The world is not lacking in versions of the story of Joan of Arc. Since her death on May 30, 1431, charged with the crime of heresy and burned at the stake for her role in the Hundred Years’ War, her story has been reshaped and reexamined by countless artists. William Shakespeare unfavorably portrayed her in “Henry VI, Part 1,” while Friedrich Schiller, countering the negative view of Joan in the work of Shakespeare and Voltaire, among others, made her a mystical hero in “The Maid of Orléans.” It was the latter that would ultimately inspire Tchaikovsky’s opera in 1878, and this perspective would continue through the 20th century, opening the door for deeply sympathetic portraits in George Bernard Shaw’s “Saint Joan,” Carl Theodor Dreyer’s film “The Passion of Joan of Arc,” and even Leonard Cohen’s simple yet affecting tribute.Arthur Honegger’s “Joan of Arc at the Stake,” a dramatic oratorio performed by the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center June 10-13, stars Academy Award-winning actress Marion Cotillard in the titular role, one that she has performed a number of times in recent years (this run of performances, however, is the first time this production has been performed in the United States). First composed in 1935, the oratorio went through many iterations, one of the most famous starring Ingrid Bergman at the San Carlo Theatre in Naples in 1953 and later released as a film directed by her then-husband, Roberto Rossellini. The current Cotillard-starring production, by French director Côme de Bellescize, was created for Japan’s Saito Kinen Festival Matsumoto in 2012 and toured the world before its arrival in New York City.The first thing you notice in this most recent production of “Joan of Arc at the Stake” is that it’s placed at a distance. The performance area, set back deep into the stage above and behind the musicians, is far enough away from the audience that it’s hard to make out anything aside from the broadest gestures of the actors. We hear Joan plead, we hear her beg, but we don’t experience the weight of her emotions. The music, wonderfully performed under the baton of Alan Gilbert, fills in the gap here, but not enough. Between the musicians, the action on stage, the chorus in the background, the lights, and the subtitles projected on a thin screen above the stage, there is an overload of information, making it hard to feel anything except that you’ve missed something along the way.Thankfully, though, the reservoir of emotions typical of previous works portraying Joan seems not to be the main interest here, at least for the most part. Less the story of Joan than the exploration of her mind, the production moves through her memories, jumping through time and space. One moment, we’re at Joan’s trial, the next we’re visiting her idyllic childhood, a few minutes later she’s on the stake, flames rising from the background — scenes don’t naturally begin and end but rather bleed into each other suddenly. There is also a heavy dose of surrealism running through the production, with Joan’s accusers played by children dressed as sheep and a man dressed as a pig, who vamps around the stage, sometimes mocking the musicians playing below. It’s colorful, and only sometimes funny, but makes you forget about the tragedy that is unfolding.What makes “Joan of Arc at the Stake” even stranger is that the production takes an abrupt turn toward the end. The silliness of the first three quarters disappears, possibly as our tour through the mind of Joan arrives at its inevitable conclusion. All of sudden everything feels smaller, even quieter. At the finale, the production aims straight at the emotions of the audience and succeeds to a large degree; the music and the amazing lighting design, by Thomas Costerg, comes together beautifully. But it’s too little, too late. The audience was already lost in a sea of conflicting memories and emotions — at this point it’s not possible to pull back from the abyss.
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