Faust, Royal Opera House, review

I grew up thinking it was fashionable to denigrate Gounod’s Faust as a creaky, overblown relic of vulgar Victorian schmaltz. But here we are, well into the 21st century, and the old thing seems to be holding on tight, its hit tunes and sheer bravado more than compensating for the score’s goo and sludge.

David McVicar’s much-travelled production is doing much to buttress its reputation. First seen in 2004, it remains a smashing show, brilliantly designed by Charles Edwards to suggest Second Empire Paris, and evoking its repressions and hypocrisies as well as its theatrical styles and operatic conventions. The Walpurgis Night ballet may be way over the top and jarring in tone, but it’s pretty gripping, especially when Bryn Terfel queens it over the orgy in spectacular jet black drag and diamantine tiara.

The staging has been well-rehearsed by Bruno Ravella, and the experienced Maurizio Benini presides astutely over the pit. The chorus was rousing, and there were nice cameos from Diana Montague (Dame Marthe) and Renata Pokupic (Siebel), as well as some terrific renversés tours en l’air from the Royal Ballet’s Eric Underwood in the divertissement.

But all ears and eyes were on the four stars. As Mephistopheles, Terfel got off to a rough start vocally, then pulled things together for the rapturous invocation to night in the third act. His characterisation was electrifying throughout: what a wonderful operatic actor he is.

Joseph Calleja was his antagonist Faust. Nobody could accuse him of being a supersubtle singer, and the Gallic elegance that Piotr Bezcala brought to the role was distinctly lacking. But Calleja has a Caruso-like warmth and generosity which count for much, and he can certainly deliver the money notes.

Although Simon Keenlyside is far too mature for Valentin – “Avant de quitter” was disappointingly shouty – he came into his own with a vividly enacted death scene. I do wish he didn’t rely so much on sturdy forte.

The bigger news of the evening was Sonia Yoncheva’s Marguerite. The management did well to book this upcoming Bulgarian soprano when the originally scheduled Anna Netrebko chickened out. True, the Jewel Song didn’t glitter as Madame Castafiore would have liked and in the final trio she started shrieking, but in between she produced some truly lovely sound, warm in timbre and gracefully shaped, which whetted appetites for her return to Covent Garden next season for La Traviata.

Until April 25. Phone 020 7304 4000; roh.org.uk

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