Last night it was time to leave the Liceu having decided if you belonged to your father or your mother. If you voted for the production by Calixto Bieito and his stark and bloody reading of the human condition, in L'incoronazione di Poppea, or for the musical beauty of Monteverdi that Jordi Savall had served in an incorruptible way –and somewhat oblivious to what was happening in scene–, with 17 musicians from Le Concert des Nations. It was necessary to see if from that story of the psychopathic Nero and the social climber Poppea he came out with a thirst for humanity moved by lyrical emotion or by the cruelty that the scene recreates.
They did not serve the half measures, nor the yes but no. Neutrality was for cowards. Each high school student returned home formulating, even to herself, her personal arguments in favor of one of them (more than the other), or at least having taken advantage of the best of each artist. Well, rarely do you have the opportunity to see two true Catalan priests from the world of opera –Bieito is from Burgos by birth, but Catalan by adoption– defending antagonistic positions to offer the same production. And so it was from the moment the maestro declared himself opposed to the stage director's manners –sex, violence and a plus of murders and physical abuse– having already worked on the piece on the stage of the Gran Teatre.
It must be said that the scale of applause/whistles could not contribute to making the public's feelings clear, given that in the absence of Bieito –occupied with the premiere of Händel's Resurrezione in Manheim and with some Sicilian Vespri waiting for him in Zurich–, no one from his team came out to say hello (too well known to replace him, they argued). So the final nine minutes of applause went to the fifteen artists – there was great recognition for the work of Magdalena Kozená as the heartbroken Ottavia, and also for the sensual Julie Fuchs (Poppea), the deranged David Hansen (Nerón) and the piece of an actor that is Xavier Sabata (Ottone)– but especially Savall was applauded, who ended up taking the cat to water.
Would there have been boos if Bieito had gone on stage? We will never know. Four well-projected buuus can give the impression that half the room is against it, as happened on the opening night of Norma or Il Trovatore by Àlex Ollé, last year. In addition, it is possible that they still have it in store for Bieito since two decades ago he turned the theater upside down with Un ballo in maschera (2000-2001) and Don Giovanni (2002-2003), which was seen again in 2008 .
It will be the sign of the times, the conservatism that is coming or simply the unconditional love that Jordi Savall arouses in Barcelona, but, although there was no doubt that the musical excellence would be warmly greeted by the public, the stage audacity could have aroused some complaints ...
“I don't know, I find it a bit vulgar for a Liceu”, commented a couple of spectators during the intermission.
And it is that the function had begun with Fortuna (interpreted by the Portuguese soprano Rita Morais) taking off a succession of panties – up to ten were counted – that she was throwing at the public mischievously. "Honey, they threw them at me at the Liceu, I swear," some would say at home. His underwear even ended up in the central pit built for the orchestra...
But let's go in parts. The Liceu audience attended yesterday a caustic catwalk of vanities by Calixto Bieito, who if there is one thing wrong with this Monteverdi is to overturn the entire script by Giovanni Francesco Busenello –member of the libertine Accademia degli Incogniti– in a way unbearably true and worthy of Oscars for acting. The irresistible Poppea working on a subdued Nerone provoked a modesty in the nearby audience (the one who was sitting on stage) that prevented them from looking directly at her voluptuous action...
Bieito applies his committed recipe: make a contemporary approach to the work looking for what is current in the original score. And he always ends up finding that central issue that somehow concerns us, everyone. Power and its abuse, violence, contempt, sex... are part of his approach to a contemporary lyricism to make people understand –and force people to think– forcefully. Because Bieito cannot be avoided. He forces us to carry everything we have seen with us... and it is perhaps the last chance that opera has to continue having meaning.
"I expected it to be much bloodier," said a fan at the start. Yes, but who has heard a final love duet, that beautiful Pur ti miro, so loaded with cynicism? After Nero's brutality, psychopathy and lack of mercy, and after Poppea's shameless careerism, this duo arrives (which is not even from Monteverdi) as a bad omen of what will happen to them in that marriage. The triumph of evil.
The catwalk, that television catwalk, with its cameras to greet and take selfies with the characters, was the arena that Bieito used to touch on the burning dilemma of today's society: vanity, looking in the mirror and always offering what he believes is the best version. of oneself... a dilemma that urgently needs to be rethought. In any case, it also served to enjoy excessively and in close-ups of the great direction of actors. Brutal!
