The opera Lakmé, premiered in 1883, is one of the most famous examples of the orientalism permeating European culture in the late 19th century. The action is in India during the British occupation. Lakmé is the daughter of a Brahmin forced to perform the rites of the Hindu religion in secret, in the forest, his temple destroyed by the invaders. It is based on a classic storyline where the protagonist is torn between her impossible love for a British officer and her allegiance to the traditional values represented by her father. Edmond Gondinet and Philippe Gille’s libretto is effective in describing the racist attitude typical of the British Empire, for example in officer Frédéric’s description of the natives’ supposed emotional life: “they don’t love with sweet tenderness, like us, they are swept away with passion”. The paternalistic demeanour of the Brits towards the Indians is also part of Gérald's love for Lakmé: he treats her like a child, and at the same time as a cunning enchantress casting a love spell on him.
The opera was performed at the Opernhaus Zürich in concert form, with all spoken dialogue cut, which seemed a wise choice. The singers were all performing without reading from a score and were interacting with each other (Natasha Ursuliak was responsible for the scenic direction) so it felt like a theatrical experience, and the sets and costumes were not overly missed. The Philharmonia Zürich, under the baton of conductor Alexander Joel, graced us with a luscious, seductive sound, while the chorus was impeccable both in the Hindu prayers and in the hustle and bustle of the market scene in the second act.
Léo Delibes’ music is full of sentimentalism in the love duets, with considerable use of “exotic” instruments and melodies. It also does not shy away from a certain operetta flare in the parts assigned to the British characters. But its main feature is the extreme virtuosity required from the protagonist: her music is an explosion of coloratura, super-high notes, impossible pianissimi. The opera lives and dies by the soprano singing the role of Lakmé, which has found in Sabine Devieilhe a superb interpreter.
It’s hard to imagine a voice more suited to this role, nowadays. The brilliance of her coloratura, the sweetness of her tone come together to enliven a young girl discovering love for the first time, overwhelmed and ultimately crushed by it. Of course the Bell Song was a triumph, where Devieilhe showcased all her precision and spectacular brilliant staccato. But what I found irresistible were the more lyrical parts, where she displayed deep-felt emotion, her voice hanging from a silvery, shimmering silk thread. In particular, her first number, the prayer “Blanche Dourga”, moved me to tears.
Tenor Edgardo Rocha gave his debut as her lover, Gérald: after a rewarding career as a Rossini tenor, he is now exploring a different repertoire. His high notes were luminous and powerful, and his interpretation heartfelt. The colour of the voice is not the most beautiful, but it was definitely a successful role debut.
Nilakantha, Lakmé’s father, was Philippe Sly, whose bass-baritone was powerful and commanding. He perhaps lacked some nuance, but he successfully managed to convey the affect of the angry Brahmin, consumed by hatred for the British oppressor and by desire for vengeance against who dared raise his eyes on his daughter. The result was a bit an “Uncle Bonze” from Madama Butterfly, but this was not out of character. Mezzo-soprano Siena Licht Miller, as the servant Malika, was very appreciated in the über-famous Flower Duet, where her voice intertwined with Devieilhe’s, floating on a soft cloud of sound conjured by the orchestra, for a predictable highlight of the evening.
Björn Bürger sang Gérald's officer friend, Frédéric with a pleasant warm baritone, perhaps a bit heavy on the high notes, while tenor Saveliy Andreev made an impression in the small role of the servant Hadji. The trio of British women, sung by Sandra Hamaoui, Irène Fredli and Bożena Bunjnika, were very enjoyable in their “merry wives” chit-chat ensemble.
