Prof. Alison Armstrong
Music Humanities
Mefistofele Review
February 26, 2000
Mefistofele at the Met
Arrigo Boito’s 1875 opera Mefistofele is one of several Romantic operas based on Goethe’s 18th-century German novel Faust, which is based in turn on Christopher Marlowe’s 16th-century English play Dr. Faustus. It is the famous story of a brilliant and curious scientist who sells his soul to the devil in exchange for ultimate power on earth. What is unique about Boito’s opera, however, is that the story is centered not on the scientist Faust but on the devil Mefistofele. Although Mefistofele is arguably the most interesting character in all the Faust stories, this is the only version that focuses primarily on him and his dilemma in finding men to seduce into evil. For that reason, in this version, Mefistofele rather than Faust is the one who makes all the major decisions and who is punished in the end.
This opera is also unusual in that the composer Boito also wrote the libretto, which is in Italian. Before composing his own operas, Boito was a successful librettist, penning the text to some of the 19th century’s most famous operas, including Ponchielli’s La Gioconda as well as his good friend Giuseppe Verdi’s Otello and Falstaff. Mefistofele was the only opera Boito composed himself, followed only by his unfinished Nerone.
Mefistofele is considered by many to be the greatest bass role in opera. The title bass role dominates this opera even more so than famous bass roles such as Don Giovanni and Boris Godunov. Because so many lines are sung by Mefistofele, many a capella, and because of the enormous vocal and physical requirements, this role has traditionally only been attempted by opera’s most talented basses. The last time this opera was performed at the Met was the 1925-26 season, when the legendary Fyodor Chaliapin sung the title role. Fortunately, Samuel Ramey is no exception to the list of great bass virtuosos who have successfully risen to the demands of this unique role.
I felt particularly lucky to see the final performance of this rarely-performed opera on Saturday evening, February 26, 2000. At the nearly sold-out performance, I was only able to buy standing room tickets high up against the back wall of the giant theatre. However, I paid only $12 to see the same magnificent performance for which many others paid $170. Furthermore, even sold-out performances always seem to have a number of empty seats which I was more than happy to keep warm for the entire three-and-a-half-hour performance.
This production was conducted by Mark Elder, produced by Robert Carsen, designed by Michael Levine, lit by Duane Schuler, and choreographed by Alphonse Poulin. The title role was performed by Samuel Ramey, Faust was played by tenor Richard Margison, and the brilliant soprano roles of Faust’s lovers Margherita and Elena (Helen of Troy) were both performed by Veronica Villarroel. Samuel Ramey’s singing was deep and flawless, though sitting in the back, I sometimes wished his low notes carried more powerfully. Richard Margison’s impressive performance was on par with Ramey’s, and although he did not get to sing any arias with the same solo power, his duets with Ramey and Villarroel provided the production’s best scenes. Veronica Villarroel’s high and focused soprano voice was a beautiful contrast with the two male voices. Interestingly, I found her singing much stronger and more confident in the second half when she was playing Elena than in the first half as Margherita, and I was initially surprised to realize it was the same singer. Since Elena is a mythical Greek goddess and Margherita is a simple peasant girl, Villarroel may have intentionally created this contrast of vocal quality.
Equally important for this performance as the named title roles above were the giant chorus and orchestra. Because this opera stars a devil and is ultimately concerned with the salvation of a man, many of the scenes take place in heaven and hell. The lighting provided the visual distinction between the two realms, with the stage lit bright red for hell and soft blue for heaven. However, the orchestra and the chorus provided the strongest sense of setting. The orchestra’s periodically dark and somber music evoked strong notions of hell, while the serene, angelic choral music complete with harp accompaniment clearly suggested a heavenly scene. Much of the music throughout the opera was sung or accompanied by the huge chorus of almost 150 singers, evenly divided into sopranos, altos, tenors, and basses. The orchestra itself had 25 violins, 10 viola, 9 cellos, 7 double-basses, 3 flutes, a piccolo, 3 oboes, 4 clarinets, a bass clarinet, 4 bassoon, a bass bassoon, 10 horns, 5 trumpets, 5 trombones, 2 bass trombones, a tuba, 6 percussionists, and notably, 2 harps. The non-traditional placement of these musicians was also important. Several times in the performance the invisible choir sang from different locations behind and to the sides of the stage. Even more dramatically, at the beginning and end of the opera, several trumpeters sounded from the very back of the theatre (where I was supposed to be standing) which dazzled the audience by literally surrounding them with heavenly horns.
The orchestra also provided many fun sound effects throughout the long performance. In the prologue, as the stage grew brighter and brighter, the tympanis rolled in an exciting crescendo reminiscent of Wagner’s Also Sprach Zarathrustra. When Mefistofele sang about God constantly chirping, the piccolo played an amusing imitation of a cricket’s chirping. When the chorus of cherubim first sang, the trombones and tympanis played a rich accompaniment to the all-boy choir. As the choir grew louder and louder, only the drums accompanied them. In the first act, Faust’s recitative was quietly accompanied only by a single cello, with an occasional additional instrument for effect.
In the second act, the orchestra was particularly effects-oriented, while it also helped to portray Mefistofele as a mischievously comic character. For example, when he descended a ladder in the second scene, the music imitated the action with a playfully falling staccato line. A similar effect gave musical description to the action when he uncoiled a rope at the edge of a balcony. Then, during his party, the percussion somehow played a sound that suggested a balloon being inflated. The party culminated at the end of the second act, halfway through the opera, with Mefistofele conducting his own choir of witches. Standing directly in front of the conductor, Ramey mimicked his arm movements perfectly, as the men and women of his demonic choir alternated phrases in a manner reminiscent of a Renaissance hocket.
Act Three completely changed the mood with slow and quiet music, while the formerly cheerful orchard had now turned to barren winter and snow lightly fell on stage. A two-note motif somberly played over and over by different instruments in different octaves, as the audience realized that Mefistofele had tricked Faust into murdering his lover’s mother, thereby dooming Margherita as well. The tone livens in the fourth act when Mefistofele takes Faust to ancient Greece. To suggest the beauty of Helen of Troy, the two harps played a sensuous duet which turned into a miniature harp concerto. After several big choir numbers with striking duets between Faust and Elena, we gradually realize that this trip is all an illusion. The strings become discordant and the flutes play a high-pitched note which sounds raw and unsettling. Finally, as Faust is dying and his eternal fate hangs in the balance, he and Mefistofele share a powerful duet which culminates with the return of the heavenly choir (and the trumpets behind the audience) as Faust is saved and taken to heaven and Mefistofele cast back to hell.
Two scenes that are particularly representative of this performance are the Prologue and Act Three. The prologue establishes the darkly comic tone of the performance as Samuel Ramey climbs on stage wearing a red tuxedo and carrying a red violin case. He then proceeds to light a cigarette and sing an aria in mocking praise of God which goes so low that on one note Ramey intentionally breaks into an irreverent cough. The angelic choir continues singing and Mefistofele wagers with God that he can seduce Faust. Almost completely opposite from this whimsical, celestial scene is the poignant, human scene in Act Three. Unlike the ironic, timeless quality of the prologue, this scene is genuinely tragic as Faust discovers his peasant lover Margherita awaiting her execution in prison. Faust pleads with her to escape with him, but she refuses and sings a mournful aria looking forward to her heavenly salvation, which foreshadows Faust’s own fate at the end of the opera.
In this era of tenors such as Pavarotti, Domingo, and Carreras hogging the limelight of male operatic roles, it is refreshing to see a tremendous and remarkably physical bass like Samuel Ramey steal the show. His humorous, witty characterization along with his deep, booming voice contrasted with the serene music of the huge choir and energized what might have otherwise been an overly episodic and protracted drama. Samuel Ramey transformed this rarely-sung opera into a delightful evening.