Seokjong Baek’s Cavaradossi is the real deal

It’s easy to forget to be shocked by it Tosca. Jonathan Kent’s impeccable production (who, like taxes, has returned to the Royal Opera since 2006) holds no surprises, and a revolving door of international stars rarely commit to something as vulgar as acting. It takes a special cast and creative team to bring this Dowager Duchess of a staging to life, and that’s exactly what we get here: a real thriller, just in time to celebrate. Puccinis 100th anniversary.

If Bryn Terfel, back to his dirty tricks as Rome’s corrupt police chief Scarpia, is the big name, there is also a healthy buzz around Seokjong Baek – the young South Korean tenor with still a lot of power – who sings the painter Cavaradossi in front of the House of Representatives of Wales. -stars most operatic export, soprano Natalya Romaniw, as Tosca. Add to that a house debut from Eun Sun Kim, music director of the San Francisco Opera, and you have something of a dream team.

Kim’s is a slow-burn approach. Puccini flips to the back page and the brutal end of his lovers in those first ominous, belching chords (It’s Scarpia’s world, and we’re all just living in it), but Kim slowly pulls back the curtain, leaving a wide (too wide, too spacious, at Times) Act I gradually gains momentum as the lovers’ quarrels give way to a manhunt and a murderous trap. There is a beautiful vertical clarity throughout her orchestra, the details of the woodwinds are clear even in the densest textures.

Terfel’s Scarpia has been refined over decades. Now rougher, more feral and almost hollow in the mid-voice in Act III, it has only gained in theatrical horror. A grotesque parody of courtesy (he takes Tosca’s hand and then sniffs his fingers in ecstasy) hardens into predatory dominance in Act II. He and Romaniw circle warily, her imperious, brittle certainty meeting his absolute authority. Sparks fly, but for once they are overshadowed by a real fire between the lovers.

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Baek is the real deal; a tenor with all the money notes and a spirited sparkle in his upper register. When he overplays the early Acts a bit, leaving not enough in the tank for his starlit farewell, he’s a natural onstage: the dashing young revolutionary in love with the consummate diva of Romaniw. The soprano seems more at ease than ever in Tosca’s tiara – more whimsical in her jealousy, more playful – and vocally it fits naturally: creamy and vibrant with emotion in “Vissi d’arte”, but with the memory still fresh of a gruff darkness at the bottom of the voice.

We know that Cavaradossi’s ‘mock execution’ is inevitably real; we know that Tosca jumps to her death rather than be captured. But Simon Iorio’s bright revival still leaves you desperately hoping. When it comes to opera, there is still no one who moves – or shocks – as much as Puccini.