Boulez's Riveting Bluebeard

Boulez's Riveting Bluebeard

Mon, 1/18/2010 - 1:03pm — Jesse McQuarters
Jan 18, 2010

"M. Boulez at my house at 9:30,” wrote Olivier Messiaen in his diary in 1944.  “Likes modern music,” he added.  It was the understatement of the century. Pierre Boulez went on to become the perfect avatar of the postwar avant-garde, the one who permitted no compromise, no concession, no half-way, no consideration of values.
-- Alex Ross, The Rest is Noise
 
It never ceases to amaze me that Boulez, this ultra-modern, ultra-avant-garde, ultra-anti-establishment composer, whose thorny intellectual criticisms lashed out at everyone from Schoenberg to Stravinsky to Ravel over the course of his life, is a figure transfigured once he steps onto the conductor’s podium.  He led the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in a program that featured Ravel’s Tombeau de Couperin, Dalbavie’s Flute Concerto, and Bartók’s Bluebeard’s Castle last week that showed just how deeply dedicated he is to the music of those composers.
 
The concert, part of an 85th birthday celebration for the CSO’s Conductor Emeritus, kicked off with Ravel’s Tombeau, a collection of four dance movements that recall both a bygone golden age of French music and the friends that he had lost on the front lines of the first World War.  Calling the work simplistic would be a gross overgeneralization, but there was a definite naiveté at times that Boulez brought forth through his understated conducting.  Sweet music, like the menuet’s opening oboe solo over a lush bed of strings, set the stage for a climactic finale that featured the oboe and english horn particularly well as they traded phrases back and forth seamlessly.
 
Mathieu Dufour, Principal Flutist of the CSO and the current subject of a minor kerfluffle with the Chicago Sun-Times, stepped in front of the orchestra for Marc-André Dalbavie’s Flute Concerto, which had its charms despite not being a virtuosic barnburner.  Played particularly well, as is the norm with Dufour, the flute solo was more like an additional voice in the orchestral texture, interspersed among open-string quartal chords and pillars of harmonic density.
 
The main event was undoubtedly Bartók’s Bluebeard’s Castle, which takes the adage “Be careful what you wish for...” to a whole new level.  Judith (Michelle de Young) sang with vulnerability as she arrived at her new husband’s brooding castle for the first time, remarking on its damp walls and darkness.  As five doors within are opened at her insistence, the castle’s secrets are revealed, shedding light on her new husband (Bluebeard, sung by Falk Struckmann)- the walls are covered with blood, and his power and wealth have been built on cruelty and deceit.
 
As the fifth door is opened, Bluebeard’s kingdom is revealed to Judith, and the CSO’s infamous brass section burst forth in all its blazing glory.  Unsatisfied until she knows every last truth about her husband, unable to turn back, Judith demands that the remaining two doors be opened, causing a descent back into darkness and sealing her fate in Bluebeard’s imprisoning fortress.
 
Boulez never faltered as he led the CSO through this drama, and there’s no doubt that the orchestra pays closer attention and plays more cohesively under his direction.  Little touches like the spot-on supertitles and interaction between de Young and Struckmann went a long way towards making an already interesting work positively riveting.

Comments

Boulez's "Bluebeard"

'll enthusiastically agree with most of what Mr. McQuarters wrote, with a couple caveats.
First, I'll give the supertitles an A-. A couple times, Judith appeared to be asking Bluebeard if he was afraid. Bluebeard asks her that question; she never poses it to him.
Second, aside from the performance (which I agree was superb), I urge the curious to consider the possibility that the story needs to be separated from its fairy-tale antecedents, and should not be taken literally. In one fairy-tale version, the seventh door reveals the previous wives' severed heads. But in the opera, the wives are still alive.
I won't posit a specific theory of the meaning of the opera, but I will offer some food for thought. In the spoken prologue (omitted from the concert but included, and delivered magnificently by Nicholas Simon, in Boulez's CSO recording), the narrator wonders if the story is happening "within or without." Seeds of doubt having thus been planted, the listener is invited to consider a variety of interpretations, pursuing a mythological rather than literal truth.
One such view is that the work is a psychodrama, and that the characters represent either men and women in general, or different elements of the human, or specifically male, psyche. In commentary included with a reissue of the classic recording by Istvan Kertesz, the conductor states that the blood on the castle walls and elsewhere is Bluebeard's, meant to represent his suffering. Thus the torture chamber suggests pain endured by him, not inflicted by him on others.
The wives--still alive--might represent previous failed attempts at intimate companionship, undermined by suspicion and misunderstanding, during Bluebeard's evidently long life. Judith repeats this failure with her accusations of murder, causing this last collapse of the possibility of love.
It seems obvious to me that the events in the opera do not occur the the physical world, and if we accept that possibility and consider mythic alternatives, the work will grow in richness.

Fascinating and valid points

Fascinating and valid points all around.  Here are the lines you mentioned from Balázs' prologue, which undoubtedly make the case for a parallel internal psychodrama:
 
Now hear the song,
You look at me, I look at you.
Our eyes' curtain -- the eyelids -- opens
Where is the stage, inside or out,
Ladies and Gentlemen?