Pass the Preparation-H, Please

“Big” is the only word to describe it. The Met’s hemorrhoid-inducing 4 1/2 hour production of War and Peace, complete with 52 soloists singing 68 roles, 118 choristers, 41 dancers, 227 supernumeraries and 1,200 costumes (not to mention four chickens, one horse and a goat), was a mixed bag of theatrically exciting moments sprinkled throughout a rather ho-hum canvas of uninspired singing and mostly hideous set pieces. If you prescribe to the sentiment that size matters, this may be the perfect production for you. The cavernous stage at the Met housed a full-scale battle, scenes of Moscow burning to the ground, sweeping ballrooms of the Russian court, and a blizzard.

The singing throughout was adequate. Irina Mataeva’s Natasha was pleasant; large for a lyric, but bland. She appeared to be overcompensating for her lack of vocal color with extreme overacting, nearly drawing audible giggles from my fellow nose-bleeders. Vasili Ladyuk’s Prince Andrei fared better. Coming off a bit mechanical in the opening scene, his voice and acting warmed up considerably as the evening progressed culminating in a unsuspectedly moving death scene. Sam Ramey, though still a commanding presence, now possesses an uncomfortably wide wobble in his voice. Although the cast offered uniformly solid singing, there were no notable standouts. Not really a complaint I guess, considering that with so many soloists and even two covers on last night, there certainly could have been many opportunities for a train wreck. The chorus, as per usual this entire season, sounded gorgeous and precise.


















I understand that with the huge cast combined with quick, diverse scene changes, a minimalist approach to production design seems like a no-brainer. But with few exceptions, the set was just plain ugly. The enormous, raked first act turntable, painted to mirror the arched domes in Russian architecture, was impressive enough. But why then use all extremely realistic, period set pieces except for the obviously not-period, retro-70's mirrored columns in the Ballroom? The battlefield in the second act looked like a huge, garbage bag-covered tortilla chip. The large, red, cloth “Phoenix” in the second act, surely meant to be imposing and inspire patriotic fervor, resembled a giant chicken. The one truly inspired moment where singing, staging and music converged to successfully raise the arm hairs was when the cyclorama was finally lit at the end of Act 2 to reveal Moscow’s skyline burning as the oppressed hordes belted out an anthem to mother Russia.

The music was more lush and tonal than I had expected. The first act music (Peace) was appropriately sweeping in its romantic lyricism and melodic sweep. The second act music (War) certainly conveyed bombast and patriotism although perhaps a bit too literally and clunky at times. The general's hymn, later picked up as the nationalistic closing theme of the people was quite a stirring finale, but sounded oddly familiar (James Horner better watch out for pending law suit - Glory theme anyone?)

I don't want to seem as though I didn't appreciate the Met's efforts. I'm sure there is simply no way to make this sprawling, huge work anymore accessible or interesting without pouring in millions more in funding and many more months of rehearsal. So I guess this will probably be as good as it gets, which isn't all that bad.

Incidentally, I must note the mysterious disappearance of the couple sitting next to me. The two stepped away for intermission sans coats and bags and never returned. I thought for sure they would show up at curtain call to reclaim their items, but no. So Trish and I finally left at the conductor's bow since it was well after midnight and I was tired. Where did they go? Did they despise the production so much that they ran from the theater forsaking their belongings (and it was freezing outside!)? So wierd. F307 and F308, where are you???