the outsiders
by Douglas Messerli
Claude Debussy (composer, based on
the play by Maurice Maeterlinck) Pelléas
et Mélisande / the performance I saw as a concert version with partial
staging by the Los Angeles Philharmonic, Esa-Pekka Salonen, conductor / the
performance Howard Fox and I attended was at the Walt Disney Concert Hall on
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Claude Debussy’s opera Pelléas et Mélisande is work primarily
about outsiders. The work begins with the sad Mélisande sitting near a stream
where her beautiful crown can be seen in the waters below. Is she an unhappy
princess, rejecting her kingdom, or a queen purposely abandoning her marriage?
We never know, and she remains a mystery throughout, an outsider not only
without a home but, apparently, without a family.
But even there, Golaud is still somewhat
of an outsider, having refused to marry the woman his grandfather had chosen
for him. Since he has now married Mélisande, he must beg forgiveness from his
grandfather for his disobedience and ask for their acceptance of his new bride.
Moreover, as we soon discover, Golaud’s
mother, Geneviéve is now married to another man, who is seriously ill. The
younger son, Pelléas, is his offspring, and Golaud’s beloved half-brother.
But even Pelléas, although living in the castle, clearly feels at odds
in its dark and foreboding home, wherein his grandfather lies in illness. His
youth, finally, keeps him from a leadership position, not to mention that the
castle also contains Golaud’s son, Ynoid, sired by his first wife. Is it any
wonder, accordingly, that there is a deep tension between all those who now
live within the castle walls?
By the end of the opera, we discover that all have been deeply affected
by the unhappiness that has been inflicted upon family members, which we see
played out in various journeys throughout the countryside, and into the
dangerous vaults that lie beneath the castle itself. Even a trip to a nearby
fountain, said once to heal the blind, but whose waters now are apparently
ineffective, presents certain dangers, and becomes the place of the final
destruction of the Pelléas and the beautiful Mélisande.
In this world of outsiders, each individual seeks some other being to
cling to, Golaud depending upon Mélisande to make his life meaningful, while
Mélisande becomes attracted, quite naturally, to his younger brother who
eventually returns her love. It hardly matters than the relationship between
the young Mélisande and her brother-in-law may be chaste and that their love is
closer to that of children than to a real passion that is at the center of so
many operatic works. No one, in this frightening cold and dark world, can
accept anything outside their own personal needs.
Indeed, Mélisande’s loss of her ring in the Fountain of the Blind, even
though it arises from the simple childish action of her tossing it into the air
to see it shine in the sun, parallels the first scene of the opera where she
has lost her crown. Was that too a rash action that meant far more that it
might seem? Certainly, the fact that she is spending that day with Pelléas, at
least symbolically, suggests that he has usurped Golaud’s place in her heart.
And, at the very moment that she loses the ring, Golaud’s horse throws him,
seriously injuring him. The fact that, after he ring is discovered to be
missing, the two are commanded by Golaud to undergo a dangerous night-time
voyage to a cave where she claims to have lost the ring, only brings the couple
closer together.
In short, Golaud’s increasing jealousy
and ultimate stabbing of his brother, seems almost predetermined. In order to
survive he must find a way to maintain the status quo of his life, and any
impediment to that must be sent away or destroyed, as Pelléas had already come
to perceive in his final announcement of his determination to leave.
But in many senses, this is no one’s
home except Arkel’s, who wisely determines that even Golaud and Mélisande’s
newborn child must similarly be sent away so that she can live her own life.
The Los Angeles Philharmonic concert
production of this opera, directed by Esa-Pekka Salonen, revealed all the
shimmering beauty of Debussy’s remarkable score; but in David Edwards’ somewhat
wooden direction, which featured a whole ghostlike chorus of badly sculptured
manikins, and which required each singer to move into position for their arias
from a long staircase leading to the back of the orchestra, merely reiterated
the disjunctive lives of the characters within the tale.
It is clear that in the slow-moving and minimal action of the opera that
a full performance of the work is, as always, a difficult thing to achieve.
Much like Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde,
the music tells the story far more than the singers’ actions or movements,
which, in this case, consists primarily of holding hands or sharing gentle
kisses. Accordingly, it is perhaps just as effective to present a “concert
version” such as this one. But it might have been better if the characters were
seated in from of the orchestra and simply stood for their moments of
performance than trotting them up and down the Walt Disney Concert stage.
This was, nonetheless, a memorable afternoon in the revelation of the
music and meaning of this innovative turn-of-the-century opera.
*Maeterlinck himself wrote in Ariane et Barbe-bleue that Mélisande was
one of Bluebeard’s wives, who had escaped from his castle.
Los Angeles, February 22, 2016
Reprinted from USTheater, Opera, and Performance (February 2016).
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