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Louise at the Psychiatric Asylum Lyon
Opéra
01/29/2026 - & January 31, February 2, 4, 6, 8*, 2026
Gustave Charpentier: Louise
Elsa Dreisig (Louise), Sophie Koch (La mère, La première d’atelier), Marianne Croux (Irma), Eva Langeland Gjerde (Camille), Adam Smith (Julien, Un noctambule), Nicolas Courjal (Le père, Un chiffonnier), Filipp Varik (Le Pape des fous, Un marchand d’habits), Patrizia Ciofi (La balayeuse), Carol Garcia (Gertrude), Frédéric Caton (Le bricoleur), Julie Pasturaud (Marguerite, La laitière), Marion Vergez‑Pascal (Elise, La petite chiffonnière), Jenny Anne Flory (Suzanne, La glaneuse de charbon), Céleste Pinel (L’apprentie, Gavroche), Giulia Scopelliti (Blanche, La plieuse de journaux), Marie‑Thérèse Keller (Madeleine), Alexandre de Jong, Hugo Santos (Gardiens de la paix)
Chœurs de l’Opéra de Lyon, Benedict Kearns (chef des chœurs), Maîtrise de l’Opéra de Lyon, Clément Brun (chorus master), Orchestre de l’Opéra de Lyon, Giulio Cilona (conductor)
Christof Loy (stage director), Etienne Pluss (sets), Robby Duiveman (costumes), Valerio Tiberi (lights), Louis Geisler (dramaturgy)
(© Monika Rittershaus)
In the early years of the twentieth century, Gustave Charpentier (1860‑1956) seemed destined to be one of France’s leading composers. His opera Louise (1900) was widely acclaimed, especially in France, where it was performed over a hundred times in its first year, and five hundred times by 1921 at l’Opéra‑Comique, the venue which saw its debut. Like many who reach glory too early and too abruptly, the enormous success of his opera seemed to paralyze the composer. His much‑anticipated sequel, Julien, ou La vie du poète (1913), with Louise’s lover as protagonist, flopped.
Other than launching the career of Scottish-American soprano Mary Garden (1874‑1967) and being associated with American soprano Geraldine Farrar (1882‑1967) who premiered the role at New York’s Metropolitan Opera in 1921, Louise is a pivoted example of French realism in opera, a genre similar to Italian verismo. Whereas the latter flourished for several decades, the former was a fleeting phenomenon. Possibly this can be explained by the vastly different social and economic conditions of France and Italy at the time.
Louise recounts the story of a young woman who falls in love with her bohemian artist neighbour Julien, despite the staunch disapproval of her domineering parents. Louise elopes with him, but when informed by her mother of her father’s declining health, she briefly returns. When her parents attempt to reestablish their tyrannical control, Louise runs back to Julien. Basically, this is a story of a young person acquiring her independence in a changing society. Louise is a seamstress in an atelier, and hence financially capable of escaping her parents’ control. Perhaps the novelty of the topic had worn off after WWII, when more pressing matters rendered the topic trivial. This may explain why Louise has been so rarely performed since the mid 20th century, but still known to many thanks to its one popular aria, “Depuis le jour.”
Ever since Christof Loy’s staging of Arabella in Madrid, I’ve been an avid fan of the German director. It was stunning how he reinvented Strauss’s opera, freeing it from decades of tradition. Likewise, his Bergman-inspired take on Eugene Onegin, also for Madrid, was surprising and memorable. His Werther last year in Paris was likely the most intelligent staging of that opera ever. When I noticed Charpentier’s rare opera was programmed by Opéra de Lyon and directed by him, I knew I had to be there.
Loy’s production of Louise was first presented by the Aix‑en‑Provence Festival last summer. His take on the opera may be a shocker to some, but this is no lightweight attention-seeking director. Indeed, a careful reading of the libretto easily justifies Loy’s reimagining. Louise’s oppressive parents may have been a normal phenomenon over a century ago but are rather suspicious when seen with modern eyes. He makes Louise a victim of sexual abuse by her father. The unpleasant mother is the cowardly, passive observer-enabler. Furthermore, Louise’s love story and all other aspects of the opera become figments of Louise’s psychologically damaged imagination.
Etienne Pluss’s set consists of a waiting room, likely of a psychiatric hospital. Though not all scenes work in this configuration, it’s effective. The waiting room idea is à propos, as it symbolizes the damaged young woman’s life being “on hold” while she attempts to overcome the trauma.
While the cast was phenomenal dramatically, they were not outstanding vocally. Franco‑Danish lyric soprano Elsa Dreisig seems to aspire to become a dramatic soprano. It often happens that a lyric soprano matures into a spinto, but rarely a drammatico, as the process cannot be willed. Her recent portrayal of Donizetti’s Tudor Queens in Geneva is a case in point. Likewise, her Fiordiligi in Robert Carsen’s Così fan tutte at La Scala showed the limits of her voice. Louise is a less demanding role than Fiordiligi and Dreisig was overall more than adequate vocally, but again, she was pushed to her limits in the upper register, resulting in a less than perfect reading of “Depuis le jour.” Yet given Dreisig’s exceptional interpretation of Louise as seen by Loy, it was easily forgivable. One truly believed in the infantilization of Louise by her parents. Dreisig was a credible young woman in the arms of Julien, whether real or imagined, and a pathetic child‑like damaged person “in regression” in her scenes with her father.
Despite a beautiful timbre and powerful voice fitting the young Julien, British tenor Adam Smith’s style was the antithesis of French singing. He sang forte and fortissimo in a role forever marked by the great Georges Thill, who starred in Abel Gance’s film version of Louise (1939) opposite Grace Moore and André Pernet.
Sophie Koch excelled in the role of the cowardly mother, thanks to her excellent acting. Her portrayal of an uptight petite‑bourgeoise was truly memorable. As for bass Nicolas Courjal, his performance was dramatically the most powerful. Portraying an incestuous father is no easy task. He managed to give this horrific character a certain humanity that didn’t render him totally repugnant.
As with the best of verismo, such as Puccini’s Il trittico, character roles are all‑important. Here, the many minor characters were played by capable singers, including such leading singers such as Patrizia Ciofi, recently heard as Donna Anna in Geneva, and Carol Garcia, Cenerentola in Barcelona.
Young Italian conductor Giulio Cilona (b.1995), led the forces of the Orchestre de l’Opéra de Lyon without much panache. His cautious approach bothered me in the most dramatic moments, which required more élan. He should have reigned in the loud tenor and lent more support to Dreisig by adjusting the tempo.
As usual with Loy’s productions, one is likely to reconsider the opera from his perspective for a long time. This was a dramatically powerful experience, though a rather mitigated musical one. Still, it was a pleasure to have finally seen a pivotal work of twentieth century French opera live on stage.
Ossama el Naggar
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