Director Olivier Lepelletier-Leeds explains in his program notes that his goal was to "create a world as light and bubbly as a champagne bubble, sparkling, festive, with the sole intention of entertaining and enchanting the audience." He succeeded brilliantly.
Without turning the update into something heavy-handed, he relocates the story from Vienna in the second half of the nineteenth century to 1980s Hollywood, with references to TV dramas like Dynasty or Miami Vice, fashion icons like Gaultier or Armani, and pop stars and drag performers (Alfred, Rosalinde's lover; Frosch, the major-domo at Prince Orlofsky's party; and a prison guard). Through cleverly inserted references to the Moulin Rouge, the Marseillaise, and the exuberant Viennese balls, he subtly alludes—without jarring historical notes—to the turbulent period following Vienna's major stock market crash of 1873 and the French Revolution. Lepelletier-Leeds' Die Fledermaus (by Johann Strauss Jr. [1825–1899]) is an amusing celebration where material sophistication and wealth remain the polish concealing lies and private fantasies. Disguises and intrigues intertwine into absurd situations.
At the grand ball at Prince Orlofsky's, Eisenstein enjoys himself exuberantly with the chorus girls. Eventually, he even flirts with his own wife—in disguise—singing "Dieser Anstand so manierlich." Then the deception enters a dangerous phase, only to reach a surprising resolution in the prison confrontation: through the "repetition watch" that she'd snatched from him at the ball. In this production, even the prison receives an improbable touch of luxury, complete with a gold-colored Chesterfield sofa and gilded cell doors. Once again, a refinement as ironic as it is clever, alluding to the materialistic "luxury society" in which the story unfolds. The punchline comes with the farce's resolution, where Falke finally gets his revenge on his friend Eisenstein, who once left him dressed as a bat on the street after a drunken night out.
The success of this clever production naturally depends entirely on its performers: singers, actors, dancers. We can be brief: every element is perfect. The sets are stunning, the costumes elegant. The ballet dancers overwhelm from the very first scene as they scatter flowers across the stage, through to the beautiful dance numbers at Orlofsky's party—whether polka or waltz. Creatine Price as the "introductory guest" at Orlofsky's party—an added scene—and as Frosch in prison performs her/his role with amusing authenticity! The singers were excellent as actors and remained vocally convincing as well, with Anne-Catherine Gillet leading the way. We've heard her in Liège in various roles before, but she proved once again her talent and is a wonderful Rosalinde. She sings with such passion and completely convinces in the staging, where she seems to genuinely enjoy herself.
Conductor Nikolas Nägele, a newcomer to the Opéra de Wallonie, impressed with an appropriately lively conducting style. He kept the spiraling operetta moving, with the orchestra swept along fully. A detail worth noting: being able to listen to the overture purely as music, before the curtain rises, is a rare pleasure these days, allowing us to enjoy the musical themes that we'll encounter again throughout the show.
The applause was justly exuberant, every bit as sparkling as the entire production.
