Cairo Opera House is currently hosting opera “Lakmé, the story of ill-fated lovers, one Indian, one British, living under the British Occupation of India.
Written in French by Leo Delibes, it is a story of love, vulnerability and betrayal inspired by the novel “The Marriage of Loti by Pierre Loti.
Premiering in Paris in 1883, “Lakmé was one of the grand operas set in the East; an extension of a Western fascination with the “exotic Orient.
Directed by Jean-Louis Pichon, the work utilizes an Egyptian cast and conductor with a French team for the costume, lights and decor. Not uncommon for the Cairo Opera House, “Lakmé is graced with a stunning set and costuming.
The simple story line can be summarized as follows: Lakmé is the daughter of a Brahman named Nilakantha. From first glance, Gerard, a British soldier, cannot resist the charms of the young Indian woman. A stream of supporting characters weaves in and about the plot, mainly decorating its melodies and libretto. These characters include servants, a sprawling choir comprised of poor Indian masses and a small entourage of British nationals.
Within the plot is a decent, though somewhat buried, commentary: The people of India stage peaceful revolts for their freedom and dignity while the British are portrayed as somewhat heartless. In the end, despite being nursed back to health by Lakmé and a deity after an attempted murder by Nilakantha, Gerard’s heart returns to the British army, leaving Lakmé to commit suicide to preserve her pride.
The music of Lakmé, well known in fragments throughout the Western world, is nurtured well under conductor Nader Abbassi. Abbassi’s hands move with an elegant subtlety over Delibes’ complex melodies. The deeply rhapsodic score is well executed by the orchestra.
In the role of Lakmé’s father Nilakantha, Reda El-Wakil gives a passionate performance, as forceful and protective as his character dictates. At the moment when he orders Lakmé to sing as a rouse to summon Gerard for his murder, El-Wakil, with his raised arm and elaborate Brahman costume, conjures a burning image in the viewer’s mind; a sort of impotent authority, an urgent but collapsing dignity.
I would have liked to see much more of Hala El-Shaboury, the honey-voiced Mezzo-soprano in the role of Lakmé’s servant Mallika. The duet she sings with Amira Selim, who plays Lakmé, in Act I is a highlight of the show.
For his role as Gerald, tenor Christophe Berry is supportive, and despite the shortcomings of what is almost always terrible acting in opera, he manages to convey a small believability to his complex character.
In the role of Lakmé, I have mixed feelings about Selim’s performance.
Unfalteringly lovely in an array of midriff baring saris, I am not sure who is responsible for the overacting and awkward movements that threatened to entirely ruin her performance. As the soprano, Selim’s voice ranges from evocative to shrill, from one in pleasant communion with the orchestra to one that unfortunately lilted beside the rich cadences of El-Shaboury.
In addition to the orchestra, it is the stage and decor that rescue the performance. Alexandre Hayraud has created a gorgeous set that sustains the audiences’ interest even in the mildest parts of the performances. Hindu statues float in mid air from the ceiling, and large jasmine flowers tumble down from silver strings. Gerard lays in a forest bed of rich colors, while the entire Indian cast is donned in striking costumes of yellow gold.
My only contention with the costuming is the representation of the British. Beautiful as their costumes are, the outfitting of the Indian characters is in no way ambiguous. Clothed exclusively in turbans, robes and saris, the Indian characters are exceedingly ethnic. Nonetheless, in staging the British colonists, the production chose to have them constantly holding some marker of their nationality: umbrellas patterned with British flags, guard posts, covered in British flags. Even Gerard, in the first time he appears on stage, is shown to have a British flag tucked into his belt.
The Victorian dresses and turn of the century soldier uniforms were sufficient enough to establish the nationality of the characters, perhaps more than enough. For their part, Miss Ellen, Miss Rose and Mistress Benson as harbingers of oppression, performed with a sort of comedic anti-heroism that didn’t completely justify the buffoonery asked of them.
All in all, Lakmé is a middle-grade operatic performance, with lush costuming and a distantly relevant plot. Gorgeous setting and costuming; performances range from compelling to unvaried in three acts that span over two and a half hours.
Lakmé runs at the Cairo Opera House’s Main Hall, 8 pm, until March 2. Tel: (02) 2739 0212.
