The regal singer confers an authority and grace on Francis Poulenc's opera that, save for a couple of sublime choruses, is lacking elsewhere in the CCO's captivating production. Whether she's pondering life's great imperative, "What is it that I serve?" or championing her Carmelite sisters' staunch devotion to prayer, Castle exudes a quiet dignity that bespeaks lifelong service to a higher power. She also exerts a viselike grip when she sings her dying wish to a young nun whose decision to take up the cross reminds the Prioress of her own call to service, declaring, "You are safer in the hands of the Lord than your own." And Castle crosses over into a completely different dramatic realm when, at the height of her death scene, she threatens to rip her face off with her bare hands so as to be free of her body's agony. It's a breathtaking performance that combines superb acting with high vocal artistry.
Coming as it does in Act One, though, Castle's riveting turn sets a stratospheric standard -- one that, understandably, few of her less-experienced colleagues are capable of reaching. Still, director Ken Cazan elicits some fine portrayals, and conductor John Moriarty expertly guides the orchestra through Poulenc's challenging score. Although the production would benefit from the use of supertitles (at the composer's direction, the piece is sung in the language of the audience, but it's still difficult to comprehend some of the dialogue), the company manages to sustain a fervency that enforces respectful silence.
Set during Robespierre's infamous Reign of Terror, the opera, which premiered at La Scala in 1957, is based on a true story about a group of Carmelite nuns who went to the guillotine rather than break their religious vows. (The 206th anniversary of the event occurred two days after this production's opening night.) Following the sisters' beatification in 1906, their tale was turned into a novel upon which Poulenc based his opera. The plot centers on a fictional heroine named Blanche, an easily frightened, high-strung youth who believes she will find fulfillment by joining the Carmelite order.
In addition to Castle's performance, the opera's themes find fullest expression in a couple of exquisite chants that chorus master John Baril nicely shapes into harmonic prayers. And the disparate chorus members manage to establish believable identities while forming a cohesive ensemble. Unfortunately, raw emoting and overprojected singing transform what could be an eloquent devotional into a slice-of-religious-life melodrama; a few portrayals need to be felt more deeply, not sung more loudly.
Overwrought episodes notwithstanding, Sheryl Woods is credible as Blanche, the novitiate who tries to adapt to a new way of life even as her worldly inclinations hang round her neck like proverbial millstones. As Blanche's newfound friend, Sister Constance, Jamie Baer invests her beautifully sung portrait with luminous humanity. Geraldine McMillian commands the stage as the New Prioress, Madame Lidoine, and Emily Golden is a forceful, if sometimes heavy-handed, presence as the upright Mother Marie. The crowds of tricolor-clad revolutionaries are effective throughout, especially during Cazan's inventive staging of the final execution scene.
All in all, Carmelites doesn't have the epic scope of, say, Buchner's Danton's Death or even as thrilling a parade to the gallows as is found in Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique. But when Robespierre's thugs overrun the convent and the sisters march to the scaffold while singing a sublime "Salve Regina," faith's mysteries and war's horrors join hands in a wrenching expression of humanity's best and worst. The effect leaves one admiring a beauty too terrible to embrace yet too compelling to disregard. Even Aristotle would probably approve of that.
