Giuseppe Verdi - Un giorno di regno
Garsington Opera, 2024
Chris Hopkins, Christopher Alden, Joshua Hopkins, Henry Waddington, Grant Doyle, Madison Leonard, Christine Rice, James Micklethwaite, Oliver Sewell, Daniel Vening, Robert Murray
OperaVision - 5th July 2024
One of the great things about opera, or an opera, is that it is never something done, recorded, wrapped up and archived, but always something waiting to be rediscovered and revitalised for a new age. An opera that is deemed a failure by the critics and public on its opening night two centuries ago can be revived and lauded as a masterpiece today. Similarly, an opera that once drew acclaim and sold out theatres for years can fall out of fashion or get lost and forgotten as musical tastes and style moves elsewhere. Verdi's Un giorno di regno, ossia Il finto Stanislao, the composer's second opera, was by any measure a complete failure, its initial run at La Scala in Milan in 1840 cancelled after one performance. Written in the period following the death of his wife and two children, the composer himself disavowed the work, but although it is unlikely to ever be considered a masterpiece today, that doesn't necessarily mean that we should accept an initial judgement of the work as final.
Another early Verdi opera Alzira (1845) was also judged by the public, critics and composer alike as a failure, but I've certainly seen one successful production (Buxton, 2018) that if not revealing it to be a lost masterpiece, at least shows it is better than the reputation that has clung to it, and is at least as good as any of Verdi’s early works. The difference between Alzira and Un giorno di regno however is that the former - albeit in an exotic location - is very much in the familiar Verdi idiom of a nation under an oppressive rule, while latter is the composer’s first attempt at writing comedy, something he concluded he just wasn't very good at. It would only be at the end of his career over 50 years later that he would attempt comedy again in his final opera Falstaff, and at that stage there is little dispute that he was able to create a comic masterpiece.
But in 1840 it's clear that in Un giorno di regno ('A One-Day Reign', or 'King for a Day') Verdi was working outside of his yet to be fully established comfort zone. The plot isn't really worth relating in any detail or indeed following closely as the opera itself progresses. It involves a French officer Cavaliere di Belfiore "for complex reasons of state" impersonating the Polish king Stanislaus for the day as a guest at the home of the Baron of Kelbar, where a double wedding is soon to be held. His daughter Giulietta is to be married against her will to the financier La Rocca, separating her from the distraught but penniless Edoardo. The Baron's niece, the Marchesa del Poggio, is also to be married to a mystery groom since her lover Belfiore seems to have disappeared, but doesn't the king look suspiciously like him?… In the tradition of such tangled relationships and disguised identities, chaos and hilarity ensue. Except of course historically we know that wasn't the case.
Where you might expect a lightness of comic touch in the situations of the fake Stanislaus sorting out the romantic complications and making fools of the greedy rich elite, Verdi wades straightaway into Un giorno di regno with highly dramatic scoring, heroic proclamations and booming choruses. Any good production of an opera however (as with the Buxton Alzira) can choose to shift the focus over to the strengths of the work and mitigate against its weaknesses. You would presume that would have to be the intention and approach of any company brave enough to tackle Un giorno di regno, and that indeed is exactly what Garsington do here under the direction of Christopher Alden.
The strengths of this opera however are actually in the music, it's just that the weakness in the plot or perhaps it's the unsuitability and disparity between the tone of the music and the comic plot that makes things a little difficult for a director. But clearly not insurmountable and the way the Garsington production handles this is quite clever and entertaining. You can do a lot by playing up the visual comedy, all the actors well-directed here to puff up the absurdity of their characters - not in a parodic way (well, just a little), but rather as a broad comedy. It's not meant to be subtle; it is still early Verdi after all. As for the huge choruses, the early chorus of nationalistic pride here is depicted as the king's secret service bodyguards, dressed in black suits and sunglasses, all donning the colours of the national team to celebrate a news report of the Polish football team’s success. That fits perfectly. The TV news reports (the channel Forte News with its amusingly tag line of 'Loud. In 4/4 time. All the time.') are also very effective for filling in details of the plot that could otherwise be missed.
Character definition goes a long way to making this tongue-in-cheek update workable. When we are introduced to her, the Baron’s rebellious daughter Giulietta, who has been separated from her Edoardo for a more advantageous marriage and is thereby “suffering in mortal anguish”, wears long unkempt threaded hair, is dressed in grungy tracksuit and flipflops, and has a 'Not My King' poster on the wall. Her rebellious nature is underlined (very heavily here) as she deal awkwardly with a delivery guy who has just delivered an online order of a self-assembly bomb and detonator. Giulietta is perfectly defined by the production design even before she sings a note, since you can't totally trust Verdi to get it right at this stage in his second opera. Musically it's wonderful, but the tone and libretto all feel wrong for the situation - Giulietta's ladies-in-waiting cooing a chorus (not that anyone coos in a Verdi opera) of "Why does sorrow cloud her angelic features?" - unless it's delivered with heavy sarcasm.
The Garsington production doesn't stoop to making fun of such expressions, but sets Verdi's music more in character with the visual comedy of the production design than the silly/earnest 19th century libretto. It helps that the characterisation and singing performances are strong enough to carry it. In this scene for example, beautifully sung by Madison Leonard, her delivery is spot-on, striking the balance between sorrow and angry defiance; "Inclined to melancholy" she can pout with the best of them. Likewise the defining of the Treasurer La Rocca as a financier whose greed is turned against him when he seeks a more advantageous 'promotion' over the promise of marriage to the Marchesa fits nicely, as does the characterisation of the Baron as a ruthless oligarch and arms dealer. All have a surprising relevance to mocking the totalitaritechnocapitalist (© First Dog on the Moon) powers we see continuing to rise even in the aftermath of this 2024 production. Not so funny in real life, that bit.
Charles Edwards' set design for this 21st century visualisation of the opera is marvellous. The large stage at Garsington is employed to show-off a modern mansion of fashionable minimalism and expensive good taste, albeit one that doesn't necessarily extend to the choice of attire of those within. The Baron, CEO of Kelbar Defence industries, gives the king a boardroom presentation of the latest models of weaponry and helicopters, all ready to sell. Somehow it also helps to sell this adventurous scene of Verdi's where the business meeting on war goes on simultaneously with Edoardo and Giulia romancing in the next room. As an arms dealer moreover, the idea of a 'shotgun wedding' takes on a new meaning when the Baron learns that La Rocca has declined the offer to marry the Baron's daughter after the better offer that has been made by the pretend king.
All of this suitably amplifies the plot to rise to the level of the music, but inevitably it all becomes a bit silly: the opera and the production both. Or fun if you like, with Henry Waddington's Barone di Kelbar and Grant Doyle's La Rocca not only delivering superb singing performances, but also while engaging in comic slapstick and a duel as a food fight with spaghetti bolognese at five paces. There is plenty of entertainment like this in the singing and performances of Christine Rice as the Marchesa del Poggio and Joshua Hopkins as Belfiore, some of it distracting, some of it a welcome distraction that helps lifts the slow movement towards reconciliation and resolution in the second act. It's never less than entertaining and as good a production as you are ever likely to see of Un giorno di regno.
External links: Garsington opera, OperaVision
