There are few 19th Century works with as checkered a past as Berlioz’s “The Trojans.” It is a vast, sprawling opera that has been considered variously as the overblown ranting of a frustrated, aging composer with his best days long past, or the final masterpiece of one of the century’s most original minds. Based on the splendid realization of Part 1 by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, CSO Chorus and a superb cast of soloists under Zubin Mehta Thursday evening, the later assessment is surely the more astute one.
Prior to the scattered revivals in recent years, the work was usually presented (when it was presented at all) in severely truncated form. One can understand the temptation to trim generously, as the drama unfolds often at a frustratingly slow pace.
The unfortunate byproduct of this approach is that page after page of glorious music go unheard, for indeed the work is remarkable for its consistency of inspiration and endlessly inventive scoring.
Mehta’s 13 years at the New York Philharmonic were not among that orchestra’s more storied ones, but based on the results he achieved in this challenging music with our band, the fault for this flawed marriage must lie at least in part with that group of notoriously difficult musicians. Here he seemed to inspire all involved to commit themselves to a project that is surely unfamiliar to most of the musicians.
Concert versions of operas work best when the orchestra carries a significant burden in the unfolding of events and the illumination of the inner lives of its characters. This is certainly true of “The Trojans,” which in every page gives ample justification for Berlioz’s position as one of music’s most original orchestrators.
In particular he has an uncanny way with woodwinds (as do most French composers after him), and here the CSO’s principal players shined. Flutist Mathieu Dufour was a delight throughout, and Larry Comb’s lovingly sculpted extended clarinet solo provided the evening’s most poignant moment.
Considering the novelty of the project, tiny flaws in ensemble and execution were remarkably few. Duain Wolfe’s chorus was, as usual, thoroughly polished, with near perfect balance and a dynamic range that was seemingly limitless, regardless of register.
The soloists moved from strength to strength, with tenor Jon Villars’ impassioned account of Aeneas being especially noteworthy. Bass Andrew Funk impressed with his rendition of three characters, in particular his spooky portrayal of Hector’s ghost.
As consistently fine as all of the above were, the evening belonged to soprano Deborah Voigt as the moody and clairvoyant Cassandra (the name of the soprano as published has been corrected in this text). She is, quite simply, the complete package. Her technique and control are so utterly assured that one quickly takes for granted that any and all of Berlioz’s formidable vocal challenges will be effortlessly vanquished. Her voice projects above the din in all registers, and her control of pitch and vibrato never waver. With such utter command of her instrument, she is free to inhabit the character with her typically uncanny insight.
It is a consistent joy to witness this great artist at the very summit of her career.
