Two (or more) of a Kind pt. 2

The story of Manon Lescaut has been the heroine (if that's the right word) of not just the two famous examples of Massenet and Puccini, but two less-well known, but nonetheless interesting examples. They include the first and the last (that I know of) operatic versions: one a formulaic though still worth hearing opera comique by Daniel Auber, Manon Lescaut, the other a very 20th Century one-of-a-kind modernization by Hans Werner Henze, Boulevard Solitude. (If you don't know the Massenet and Puccini operas, what's keeping you? Go listen or see them. Very good videos exist of both: The Scotto / Domingo MET Puccini, the Fleming / Alvarez Massenet.)

The Auber is hardly a work of genius but it does show what opera comique was before real geniuses took over. All the conventions are here: light romances (or cavatinas) for the leading lady which show off her versatility and lack of a heavy instrument (this was before Carmen though too many mezzos over-sing it), tenor heroes, love duets, ensembles that fit a routine of soloists with chorus, starting small but building to a big climax with plenty of high notes, runs, trills, etc. The ends were not always happy though most of the music is light and (sometimes comically) positive. Opera comique is a form few people really know and this is a good way to delve into it. This particular example is stereotypical in its form and above average in invention. The only recording I know of gives a good reading. The leading lady is a bit shrill, but versatile, and the lead tenor is stylish. If you know the two famous versions, the interest increases.

The Henze is much more interesting, well, more than that--wonderful. It caused a stir and a controversy when it was first produced, due as much to the modern touches like drugs and jazz and the greed that feeds the plot (Manon and her brother are more like grifters. She is anything but innocent. She goes to jail for murder.) The music is a very unique mixture of the aforementioned jazz, tonality, atonality, chant, and admittedly lyrical twelve tone rows. The scenes are tense and stylistically different from each other as the whole thing rolls inevitably to a hard (anti-?) climax. A recent video makes a very good case for it. The whole production is dwarfed by a railway station where people come and go and never connect. The singing is of a very high level (for once in a modern work) and the singers are good actors as well. Like the Auber, knowledge of the two famous versions makes the work even more fascinating. If you can't find the Auber, at least get the Henze.