Mozart;Wolfgang Amadeus Cosi F

Admittedly, the unconventional staging of this Così performance leaves some loose ends, but I find the concept of including the women in the "joke" from the start has a certain appeal which is not completely outside the suggestions of the original libretto. For instance, the very first recitative sung by the women begins with Fiordiligi stating that she has a notion that she'd like to play a joke on Guglielmo today ("Mi par, che stamattina rolontieri farei la pazzarella: ho un certo foco, un certo pizzi cor entro le vene quando Guglielmo viene se sapessi, che burla gli vo far.").

The disadvantage to the approach is that things do get a bit muddled in the second act, as Herrmann attempts to reconcile her view of the plot with Fiordiligi's angst-ridden attempt to disguise herself and leave town to join Guglielmo at the battlefront, and to clearly portray the double-revelation of the betrayal by both the male and female lovers after the "wedding ceremony" has taken place. While to most modern viewers it should be quite obvious that both the men and the women fiancées have betrayed one another's faith, simply by the fact that Guglielmo has successfully seduced Dorabella, while Ferrando has likewise seduced Fiordiligi (whether the consummation of that seduction is delicately implied, as in many productions, or stated more blatantly, as in this one), still, most productions of this work leave the women as the betrayers and the men as the betrayed.

Herrmann's attempt to rectify this injustice requires that many of the accusations made by the women against the men come by way of angry glances and physical rebuffs, rather than spoken words, although a careful viewing reveals that the message is successfully conveyed (if perhaps a little too subtly for some viewers' tastes). The quartet, "Idol mio se questo è vero," in the final scene allows for a fairly ample amount of contrition from the men as well as the women before the entire cast takes up the final theme, "Fortunato l'uom, che prende ogni cosa pel buon verso," praising the happiness obtained from taking life as it comes with good cheer.

Da Ponte's story itself, though often treated as a buffoonish lark, displays a rather disturbingly dark view of human nature, fraught with emotional conflict, seduction, betrayal, love, hate, misogyny, and an almost sociopathic readiness to trifle with the emotions and happiness of others. Herrmann does succeed in drawing forth a great deal of that confusion, darkness and incipient violence in this stunning retake, going well beyond the light frolic of many other performances and leaving the audience with a sense of unease and a thought-provoking aura of uncertainty. There are no "pat answers" in this performance, but a good deal of entertainment, some lovely musical performances, and quite a brilliant shift in perspective.

It's increasingly amusing to see various commentators at this site vying to identify the Mozart production from M22 at Salzburg which best deserves the title of the stupidest and ugliest. My nominee for the prize is Ursel Herrmann's and Karl-Ernst Herrmann's "Cosi Fan Tutte." (I don't say Mozart's and Da Ponte's, as the Herrmanns have in this instance made the work singularly their own, and should therefore receive full credit for what they have wrought.)
In an interview accompanying the performance, while Mr. Herrmann largely sits meekly by, Ms. Herrmann enlightens us as to the rationale behind this ill-conceived eyesore of a production. She is a wholehearted supporter of the conventional idea that classics are not of a time, but instead "universal." What this means to her, unfortunately however, is that as stage director she need not bother to set "Cosi" in any specific locale or period at all. She further acknowledges that she'd never before been especially drawn to this masterpiece because it has women too easily deceived. What this encourages her to do is seriously defy the libretto and have the aforesaid women aware of the men's wager which gets the action started. What an original, necessary insight for our time! Da Ponte and Mozart constructed things differently, but what did they know?
To sum up, because we have characters still singing in Italian and reflecting 18th century social class but dressed at the same time in much uglier, more modern costumes and treading around among the absurdly minimalist scenery that has become a Eurotrash cliche, this production, far from being universal, is simply and mindlessly not taking place anywhere. Its visually unbecoming oddness calls more attention to itself than any other feature. Further, and equally far from "universal," this production to the extent it approaches ideas, fosters Ms. Herrmann's bumper-sticker-deep, sadly dated "feminism" along with her unearned cynicism about human "feelings." The most suitable locale for such a procession of stale images and ideas that complacently thinks itself "cutting edge" would be, I submit, the wall of Plato's cave, with the audience the bound prisoners and the Herrmanns the manipulators of the pantomimes projected on it. "Universal," in short, to the Herrmanns means apparently their directorial freedom to engage in the unwitting promotion of contemporary cliches in sets, costumes, and vision.

The Herrmanns agree further that fussy stage business is necessary at every moment. If clashing swords interfere with chords in the overture, for example, it makes no difference. Who after all still goes to the opera to hear the music? The audience was probably assumed by the Herrmanns to be made up instead of hyperactive types or people forced in the workplace to "multitask." If its members had to hear only miraculous music, glorious singing, and satiric wit, they might get bored.
Not only must the audience be bombarded, then, with excessive stage "business," but even some of the orchestra members have to be irrationally brought into the action, for fear that they too, by just playing their instruments, might begin to feel hopelessly non-interactive.

The saving graces of this production are in the areas where the Herrmanns would have had the most trouble interfering. The music is beautifully played and finely conducted. Despite the seeming effort to dress and make up the characters in as unattractive a manner as possible, everyone is in good to fine voice. These last features alone are what have garnered the stars in this review.

Sometimes I think Ursel & Karl-Ernst Hermann are just full of crap. But in each of their productions I have seen so far, they do something makes me go "Aha!" So, I appreciate this production for the singing, the acting, the orchestral leadership, and the artifice that makes us think beyond the surface of the (pretty ridiculous) story.

Like many modern Cosis, there's a conscious directorial decision to create confusion. The four lovers like the idea of being with someone, but it's not clear if they are really meant to be with each other. Sometimes THEY can't even remember who is who. In "Ah guarda, sorella," the sisters mix up their pictures and sing most of the duet to the "wrong" portrait. Later, in disguise, the men seem to forget which sister they are supposed to woo, and Alfonso has to remind them.

I like the twist that allows the sisters overhear their men making the bet with Alfonso and plotting to test them. Since there is nothing in the libretto to substantiate this, it puts the burden on the acting skills of the sisters. Their knowledge of Alfonso's plot is conveyed primarily by glances, smiles, and significant looks from behind their fans (which Sophie Koch and Ana Maria Martinez are very good at.) Stephane Degout and Shawn Mathey play the petulant lovers well.

This is a mature Despina. But she's the kind of woman (of a certain age) who would still call herself a girl, so I don't perceive a conflict with the text. (And Helen Donath still sounds pretty darned good in her 60s!)The continuo player is a 7th character, not only as an alter ego to each singer but as a presence right on stage with her fortepiano. I think this really works to reinforce the artifice of the production.

The finale of Cosi is ambiguous at best, and ripe for interpretation. Alfonso says the best revenge is to marry the sisters. But he never specifies who should marry whom. In the traditional interpretation, they should marry their original partners; but many have argued convincingly--based on both musical and dramatic analysis--that the new pairs are better matched; or they are better off not pairing up at all. This production definitely goes for ambiguity; as the lovers reconcile, we are not sure who is singing to whom.

Although sometimes it's a stretch to make the directors' alteration of the plot work, this Cosi Fan Tutte (one of the less weird M22 productions) is well sung and well acted. The six singers shine in their arias, and do great ensemble work. I recommend it as an alternative to more "traditional" interpretations. It's a fresh look at an ambiguous and often troublesome plot that is paired with (and often contradicted by) sublime music.