Lights, Fog, and Fire
8 – 14 November 2025
Saturday 8 November
Flew to Copenhagen to attend Kander & Ebb’s Chicago at the Malmö Opera. As in Walter Bobbie’s long-running Broadway staging, the show began with the orchestra on stage — but the theatre’s formidable machinery soon took over, and the turntable whisked the musicians away. My inner geek was delighted when the orchestra pit sank and rose again as a stage elevator.
True to Malmö tradition, some costuming and choreography choices verged on questionable taste. Still, the impeccable work of cast and orchestra alike made the performance thoroughly satisfying. Curiously, the English supertitles seemed not to reflect the original text but to translate the Swedish adaptation. I wonder why that was deemed useful.
I always enjoy visiting the 1944 Sigurd Lewerentz building, with its monumental artworks and 1,500-seat auditorium, adaptable to four different configurations. Near the box office, a 1959 poster by Marcel Jacno recalls the days when Ingmar Bergman, then head of the Malmö City Theatre, took his production of Hjalmar Bergman’s Saga, starring Bibi Andersson, to Paris’s Théâtre des Nations (today’s Théâtre de la Ville).
And as if “adulteress” wasn’t awkward enough in English, have a look at the Swedish translation: äktenskapsbryterska.
Sunday 9 November
Flew back to Paris. On the flight, finished reading Asako Yuzuki’s Butter, a novel that begins as a crime story but soon pivots toward a sociological commentary on Japanese food culture, fat-phobia, and the unrealistic expectations placed on women. Polly Barton’s English translation makes for a palatable read — the meal descriptions made my mouth water — but the overall experience felt a little hefty after the novelty wore off.
At the Lido de Paris, the stage adaptation of Jacques Demy’s Les Demoiselles de Rochefort (1967) proved irresistible. Michel Legrand’s score was lovingly recreated by a superb, swinging orchestra, while a combination of clever physical sets, dynamic projections and colourful costumes did wonders in replicating the film’s visual charm. The playful complicity between the two leading ladies uncannily echoed Deneuve and Dorléac’s memorable chemistry.
At La Comédie-Française’s Salle Richelieu, Clément Hervieu-Léger’s staging of Le Misanthrope returned with the same talented principal cast that created it ten years before, save for one exception. My reaction was much the same as it had been then: physical intensity is not always the surest marker of psychological tension. Here, all the running and shouting jammed the play’s dramatic gears rather than setting them in motion.
Monday 10 November
Paris – At the Philharmonie de Paris, Argentinian pianists Martha Argerich and Nelson Goerner paid homage to their departed friend and colleague Maurizio Pollini — although exactly how remains unclear. I failed to be touched by the first half, consisting of Beethoven’s own arrangement of his Grosse Fuge op. 133/134 and Mozart’s Sonata K. 521. The second half, on the other hand, offered a deluge of colourful images and entrancing rhythms, with Shostakovich’s Concertino op. 94 and two masterpieces by Maurice Ravel, Ma Mère L’Oye and La Valse — the latter ending the programme on an intoxicating sonic whirlwind.
Tuesday 11 November
Paris – At the Opéra-Bastille, Calixto Bieito’s staging of Die Walküre confirmed a post-apocalyptic approach to Wagner’s Ring. Hardly novel, the realisation of his vision was hit-and-miss — the dramatic tension sagged at times, and I was particularly annoyed by the number of stagehands working in full view in Act III. The musical execution, on the other hand, was highly satisfactory. Pablo Heras-Casado probably benefitted from the in-depth work the orchestra did under Philippe Jordan. In a cast with no weak link, Christopher Maltman gave a commanding and devastating performance as Wotan, the proud and wounded god of gods.
Wednesday 12 November
Paris – At the Philharmonie de Paris, Esa-Pekka Salonen and the Orchestre de Paris felt like a match made in heaven in a thoughtfully designed programme. The concert opened with the Prelude from Bach’s Partita No. 3, played from the upper tier of the auditorium by Iris Scialom, which segued seamlessly into Salonen’s own Fog, a 2019 piece that feeds from and extends on Bach’s theme. Then Yuja Wang set the keyboard ablaze performing Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in a performance of jaw-dropping vision, precision, and energy. After a much-needed intermission, Scriabin’s Poem of Ecstasy, introduced by a seamless segue from Tristan und Isolde’s Prelude and Liebestod, was a feast of colour and collective drive.
Thursday 13 November
Paris – At the Théâtre du Rond-Point, Céline Fuhrer and Jean-Luc Vincent’s Polar(e) turned out to be a strange medley of slapstick comedy, improvisational randomness and free-style humour. More than once, the play freed itself from the plot and offered a running commentary on theatrical conventions. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, and yet I ended up feeling happily entertained by the sheer absurdity of it all.
Friday 14 November
Paris – At the Philharmonie de Paris again, Simon Rattle led the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks in a mishmash programme consisting of Schumann’s Symphony No. 2 and Stravinsky’s Firebird. The lushness of the orchestra did little to connect me with the Schumann, which doesn’t really “speak” to me. However, the Firebird gave me lengthy goose-flesh such were the phenomenal intensity and infinite nuances of the players. Right before the final apotheosis, the string players managed one of the quietest pianissimi I’ve ever heard.
And so, for now, the lights dim… until the next act.