TV REVIEWS / OPERA ON PBS : Taymor’s ‘Oedipus Rex’ Is Close to Definitive

Last September, Seiji Ozawa led a monumental new “Oedipus Rex” at the fledgling Saito Kinen Festival in Matsumoto, Japan. Directed by Julie Taymor--she of masks, puppets and a MacArthur Foundation “genius” grant--that production of Stravinsky’s opera-oratorio seems as close to definitive as the difficult work may allow. Tonight it comes to PBS’ “Great Performances” (at 9 on KPBS-TV Channel 15 and KVCR-TV Channel 24, at 10 p.m. on KCET-TV Channel 28).

It is not simply a video record of a live performance, however. Taymor directed the piece for both stage and video, with the luxury of special filming sessions. Much thought and careful rehearsal are everywhere as apparent as the deep-pockets budget.

As filmed, the production is a surprisingly intimate “Oedipus.” Close-ups and quick cutting create a claustrophobic sense of fate, and make the familiar mythological underpinnings at once personal and universal. The masks and outsize, sculpted hands worn by the principals provide resonant symbolic cues.

George Tsypin’s massive high-tech set, with sculptures by Taymor and a reflecting pool, manages an uncanny primitive feeling. With the prevailing earth tones and the clay body makeup on the chorus and dancers, the set seems a teeming organic warren at times, suggesting some of the bravura designs of Brian Froud and Jim Henson in the film “Dark Crystal.”

In the title role, Philip Langridge sings with affecting clarity, although his vibrato tends to widen and wobble under pressure. Butoh artist Min Tanaka is the king’s dancing double, who takes over at the climactic blinding, strips of red cloth dangling from his eyes.

Jessye Norman projects the full range of conflicting emotional development in Jocasta’s great scene. The part lies very well for her, and she delivers a complete characterization, rich in vocal nuance.

Bryn Terfel provides an incisive Creon, but Harry Peeters only bluffs the lower parts of Tiresias. Michio Tatara is a bold Messenger, and Robert Swensen a rather fevered Shepherd.

Kayoko Shiraishi, in traditional costume, almost thrusts the crucial narration upon the audience with stern passion. Stravinsky intended the narration to be in the language of the audience, so subtitles for her Japanese are appropriate, while he probably would have regarded their continuation under the ritualistic Latin used in the score as redundant at best.

Ozawa conducts the Saito Kinen Orchestra and Shinyu-Kai Chorus with equal emphasis on power and mystery. His musicians respond with impressive musical flexibility and range of sonic resources.