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Miss Migenes-Johnson had no trouble with her role's occasional ventures into the stratosphere, and her voice, while not large, carried well in the extensive declamation and dialogue passages. Hilda Harris scored a triple success as the Wardrobe Mistress, the Schoolboy and the Page. Lenus Carlson bounced about credibly as the Animal Tamer/Acrobat, though his macho ranting eventually became a chore to listen to and might have been treated more subtly. Even Evelyn Lear's exquisitely drawn Countess Geschwitz, mooning after Lulu and faithful in her lesbian fashion to the grimy end, is an abstraction and an absurdity. Foldi, though not above pimping for Lulu, gives the character a dimension of humanity that is missing in the others. Kenneth Riegel, as his son the composer, Alwa, made much less of an impression, but Alwa is a less theatrical role in every way, even though Berg wrote himself into his opera in this part.Īndrew Foldi is once more the enigmatic Schigolch, a disreputable old man who may or may not have been the first passion of Lulu's busy sex life. He has his comic-opera moments, but when he looks at his household and exclaims ''Filth, filth,'' we know the comedy is finished for him. Gross and foolish though he is, he makes us feel what it must be to be caught in a Lulu's web. Sch"on and the prostitute-hating Jack the Ripper is a commanding figure. Franz Mazura in the mirror-image roles of the morally tortured Dr.
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With her lithe, girlish body and chameleon face, she seemed to live the part from instant to instant, every animal instinct given its full sway.įor her bizzare menagerie of lovers and would-be lovers, the Metropolitan has rounded up a uniformly splendid group. Miss Migenes-Johnson's Lulu, sexy and pathetic at once, is a portrait drawn by a superior singing actress, a natural extension of her recent performance in the filmed ''Carmen,'' in which she brought to life another of the operatic literature's deadly females. That's life, says Berg - or, rather, death. Even Lulu's murder by Jack the Ripper in the grisly final scene carries little or no moral impact. She and her bizarre entourage of suitors were no more nor less admirable than a pack of alley cats, whose couplings and uncouplings are simply nature in action. This Lulu observed the carnage she created with a certain ingenuous interest, not so much savoring it as letting it happen. In the pit, James Levine and the Metropolitan orchestra give a gripping reading of one of opera's craggiest scores, which is, or should be, the first requirement of any presentable ''Lulu.''Īnd in Julia Migenes-Johnson, this performance had an almost perfect earth spirit, an irresistibly sensual woman who could open Pandora's box with a lift of an eyebrow, letting lovers destroy themselves in wholesale lots if that's what they were intent on doing. It manages to be both remarkably faithful to the composer's intricate 12-tone score and a theatrical coup as well, by turns mordantly ironic, broadly comical, sickeningly realistic and penetrating in its insights into the behavior of the human animal. THE Metropolitan Opera's production of Alban Berg's ''Lulu,'' which returned to the repertory Monday night for the first time since the premiere of the reconstructed full-length version in the 1980-81 season, is as fascinating a 20th-century music drama as the company has ever staged.