Verdi - Jérusalem (Liège, 2017)

Giuseppe Verdi - Jérusalem

L’Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège - 2017

Speranza Scappucci, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Marc Laho, Elaine Alvarez, Roberto Scandiuzzi, Ivan Thirion, Pietro Picone, Natacha Kowalski, Patrick Delcour, Victor Cousu, Benoît Delvaux, Alexei Gorbatchev, Xavier Petithan

Culturebox - 23 March 2017

Although they are not without their merits, it's becoming clearer to me at least why the revival of Verdi's early operas is usually reserved only for anniversary occasions. It's not so much that they lack the sophistication of the composer's great mature works, since they make up for that in thrilling high drama and are still head and shoulders above much of Verdi's contemporaries and a substantial proportion of the Italian bel canto repertoire that preceded it. The problem would seem to be more that, on the surface at least, there's not much to distinguish one from another. That's certainly true of one of the greater rarities in the Verdi catalogue, Jérusalem, but there are other factors that make its production here at l’Opéra Royal de Wallonie-Liège an intriguing proposition.

To put it crudely and probably not terribly meaningfully, not to mention showing my age with a comparison that is about 20 years out of date, but you could liken the early Verdi as the Oasis to Wagner's Blur. While Wagner experimented to create a new musical voice that contained a sense of national identity and poetry, Verdi was content to stick more closely to the classical model, with vigorous rhythms, crowd-pleasing catchy melodies and not terribly sophisticated lyrics in his libretti. There's not much to tell one piece apart from another, but done well Verdi's method is undoubtedly effective and incomparably thrilling.

So what are the dramatic elements that make up a typical Verdi opera? They often abound in such matters as war or political tensions, some corrupt religious authorities, an old vendetta over a family tragedy, an unjust decision by a ruler, plots and assassinations, an innocent romance that crosses political or social boundaries all related with great revelations, coincidences and cruel twists of fate. All this is musically enriched with love duets, laments, prayers, marches and patriotic choruses. The regular early Verdi opera will have quite a few of these elements. If you're talking about Verdi in French grand opéra mode, well just bung the lot of them in there, add in a few additional large choruses, a long ballet, a drinking song, maybe drop a thunderstorm in there for good measure and retain the option of a ghostly apparition.

If only it were that simple. Jérusalem makes good use of a number of these elements and Verdi scores them well, the composer already having the basis of his successful Italian opera I Lombardi alla prima crociata to rework for a French audience. In reality, Jérusalem would appear to be Verdi operating to ideas yet above his station, but that's not quite fair and the opera is a little more than that. You could even look at Jérusalem as being the first step towards true Verdi greatness. It does represent a development in the composer's style and ability, using more through-composition, showing a stronger alignment of music to character rather than just heightening emotion and dramatic expression, for pacing or simple accompaniment. Composing for the French opera would take Verdi out of his comfort zone and force him to adopt to the expectations of a new and different audience.

And it worked. In terms of French opera, Les vêpres Siciliennes is a little more of an adventurous move away from those more familiar dramatic points, if still not quite making the mark. Jérusalem's plot developments would however resurface in other guises to a much more satisfying result, the pilgrims, a war torn land and regrets over old family tragedies would come up again in La forza del destino and beyond that to Don Carlos, where there is a much more sophisticated blend of plot and characterisation. There's even a hint of Eastern exoticism in Jérusalem that would point the way towards Aida. By this stage, no one could accuse Verdi of being stretched beyond his abilities, so this opera is very much of interest for exploring where those developments arose from and how they compare.

Plot, characterisation and relative musical qualities aside, the true value of any Verdi opera - and part of the reason why even the least celebrated of the early Verdi operas can still be thrilling stage pieces - is in the performance. Often it's only when performed well and the singing challenges are met that the drama really comes to life. The stage design and concept are not so important, and indeed any attempt to derive any deeper meaning, relevance or psychology would not only be superfluous but probably quite ridiculous. The Opéra Royal de Wallonie's artistic director Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera recognises this, keeps the work grounded in the period and focuses his direction in getting the drama across as effectively as possible. He doesn't quite succeed, but whether that's a failure with the direction or the work itself is hard to say.

Despite all the elements being in place, Jérusalem just never seems to come alive or convey any real sense of urgency. It really does seem like a compendium of conventional operatic tricks and numbers with no real personality behind it at all. Jean-Guy Lecat's set designs are basic and functional, which means they provide a suitably lit and appropriate backing for the scenes in Toulouse and Palestine, but the contrast between them doesn't seem to have any real connection to the characters within these locations. The main part of the stage is necessarily left clear so that the large choruses can take their place, and there is room also for the long ballet sequence that takes up the majority of Act III. These are the kind of constraints that come with Jérusalem (it would be tempting to cut the ballet for example, but that kind of misses the point of performing the work in the first place) and the Liège company just do their best with what they are given.

They put their best efforts and resources however into the areas where it can really count, and that's in the singing and musical performances. If the characterisation is paper-thin in these earlier operas, Verdi nonetheless provides some meaty challenges that put his principal singers to the test. They all come out of that exceptionally well here, showing that there is nothing to fault in Verdi's scoring for the French voice. Marc Laho's Gaston is excellent, demonstrating a beautiful clarity in his enunciation with feeling for the underlying sentiments. He grows in strength too as the opera progresses. Verdi's lead soprano roles are killers and Hélène is no exception. Cuban-American Elaine Alvarez navigates those hair-raising bends in the vocal line well and often impressively. Roberto Scandiuzzi also makes a great impression as Roger, singing the bass role with resonant clarity.

Speranza Scappucci's contribution as conductor is also notable. She strikes what seems to me to be a perfect balance between the rough and ready nature of early Verdi and the growing sophistication of his later works. The musical performance here permits you to hear that growing elegance of melody, mood and through-composed orchestration. It can be heavy when the high drama demands, but there's a lightness of touch there also that recognises that there are individual sentiments involved, even if the characterisation doesn't really go that deep.

Jérusalem is by no means an exceptional work or even an underrated Verdi opera, or at least not different enough for a company to take on its grand opéra challenges when any other early Verdi opera would do. On the other hand, it's certainly not without musical and historical interest, and if the stage production is a fairly indifferent response to an unexceptional drama where it's hard to feel any real sense of personal involvement in its tragedy, the first-rate musical and singing performances here in Liège go some way towards making up for it.

Links: L’Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Culturebox

Donizetti - Lucia di Lammermoor (Liège, 2015 - Webcast)

Gaetano Donizetti - Lucia di Lammermoor 

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège - 2015

Jesús Lopez Cobos, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Annick Massis, Celso Albelo, Ivan Thirion, Roberto Tagliavini, Pietro Picone, Alexise Yerna, Denzil Delaere

Culturebox - 25 November 2015

Donizetti's opera adaptation of Sir Walter Scott's 'The Bride of Lammermoor' is so bound up in the period gothic themes of ghosts, revenge and madness that there seems to be little point in updating the work on the stage or seek to deconstruct it for any deeper meaning. The best that one can do is frame the work with a little historical distance from the melodrama, but as we've seen with the Royal Opera House's production of that other Scott adaptation, Rossini's La Donna del Lago (The Lady of the Lake), there's not an awful lot to be gained from such an approach either. Better surely to just present the work in its own terms.

We'll reserve judgement on that until we see Katie Mitchell's new production at Covent Garden next year, but in the meantime, the Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège under the direction of Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera decide to stick with the traditional approach for Lucia del Lammermoor, and in a big way too. Conductor Jesús Lopez Cobos even goes right back to Donizetti's original manuscript to find a purer dramatic version of the composer's vision before it and its famous mad scene became the favourite toy of the world's greatest coloratura sopranos over the ages.

Make no mistake though, whatever way you approach Lucia di Lammermoor you still need a soprano of great ability and you also need to convey the essence of the gothic, with thunderstorms and heavy mists drenching the stage in the atmosphere of its Scottish locations. It wouldn't be like Stefano Mazzonis or Liège to let us down on either front, and indeed they manage to give a fair account of the work as it is on its own terms with even a little bit of necessary flair where it is required. Rather than appear stuffily traditional then, there is a wonderful solidity to the Liège production in both the staging and the singing that anchors the opera a little more securely than might otherwise be the case.

That doesn't mean that there is any lack of distinct interpretation or personality applied to the work. There's a full three-dimensional quality to the music and to the staging here that allows us to explore the heart of the drama. Jesús Lopez Cobos sets the tone well in the moody, rumbling overture, while the stage is coloured a bruised purplish-blue to presage the gothic storm to come. The set gives us castle ramparts, a forest and a fountain, as well as a full tower that rotates to let us in on the looming crisis between rival Ashton and Ravenswood clans. Enrico has plans for his sister Lucia's marriage, but she is in love with Edgardo from the Ravenswood family and Enrico intends to put a stop to that.

The lighting in particular reflects all the moods and conflicting emotions that are bound up in the story, and the costume design of the well-wrapped clansmen is also far more realistic of what one would wear living in a Scottish castle in a 17th century winter. Even that however is not without some stylistic flair that seems to give real substance and body to a romantic melodrama. Settling for a largely traditional approach in the production then, you have to take the rough with the smooth, and there is inevitably a bit of both here, but it ultimately yields worthwhile results.

The dramatic declamations of the overheated (or hard-to-swallow) libretto and the more prosaic moments of the music would be difficult to get through if everyone was standing around and singing out to the audience, but Mazzonis manages to keep the characters engaged with one another. The upside of this is that combined with the attractive staging it's enough to keep the audience engaged and ready for the big moments when they occur. As long as you have good singers in the roles - and that's a big enough ask - you're on sure footing with this approach.

The ghost in the fountain aria ("Regnava nel silenzio"), the sextet and the ending of Act II, the mad scene in Act III and the conclusion are all vital, and fortunately the main performers and the chorus are all up to the task. Annick Massis has force and control of the coloratura, but more importantly has what Cobos demands for this production and that's the dramatic character to get the essence across without the unnecessary elaboration that has been added to the role over the years. Celso Abelo is Spanish, but he has a great Italian tenor voice and is impressive in the role of Edgardo. This is the kind of strong central singing team that is required for this work and they acquit themselves admirably.

Another original element that Cobos brings back to the work is the use of the glass harmonica for Lucia's mad scene. Along with a more restrained approach to the singing by Massis, this gives the scene more of an effective haunting quality rather than the full-blown off-her-rocker insanity with which Lucia is more often characterised. Or, depending on your expectations for this work, it could come across like the murder and decapitation scene that takes place in a room on the tower; a rather a rather bloodless affair, lacking in the kind of intensity you might expect.

There is more enough drama within the storyline and within the original musical score however for it to work on its own terms and for the purposes of this production, and it is indeed an enjoyable account of the work that clearly meets with the approval of the Liège audience. If Massis takes the role of Lucia down a step, Abelo is good enough to make up for the difference for the final scene to have all the necessary impact. Even if the blocks of masonry that he pulls down upon himself seem to bounce in rather too much of a rubbery fashion to do any real damage, the illusion of opera staging, brought together on so many other levels here, provides all the necessary weight.


Links: Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Culturebox

Verdi - Rigoletto (Liège, 2015 - Webcast)

Giuseppe Verdi - Rigoletto

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège - 2015

Renato Palumbo, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Leo Nucci, Desirée Rancatore, Gianluca Terranova, Luciano Montanaro, Carla Dirlikov, Benoît Delvaux, Roger Joakim, Alexise Yerna, Giovanni Iovino, Patrick Delcour, Laura Balidemaj, Victor Cousu

Culturebox - 28 March 2015

The Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège can be fairly adventurous in their stage presentations of lesser-known, rarely performed works, but they tend to approach the big popular works with a little more caution, undoubtedly not wanting to challenge the core audience for traditional repertoire too much. Such is the case with their 2015 production of Verdi's Rigoletto, with the ORW's colourful artistic director Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera going as far as to take the work right back to the designs for its original production at La Fenice in 1851.

Such a looking-backward approach can be a little disheartening for anyone who believes that opera can be a progressive artform and that truly classic works are strong enough to withstand reinterpretation and indeed remain so relevant that they merit such an approach. There is of course some interest in seeing how a work like Rigoletto might have looked to an audience back in 1851, even if it's only from a historical perspective. Rigoletto however is a work that also has a very specific structure and dramatic stage presence, and that would appear to be director's rationale here, seeing how the work would move and breathe if the performers are given sufficient space, since it is between the protagonists that the real drama occurs.

The old-fashioned painted backdrops don't look terribly inspiring, nor does the 19th century approach to medieval costume design. The lighting is also designed to match the colourful period look, and even the directing is very much in the traditional manner, with the singers mainly standing and singing their parts out to the audience. Fortunately this approach can still bring out the best in Rigoletto, which functions something like a relay race, the solo singer passing on the baton to the next solo performance in a handover duet that has the real dramatic conflict and drive. You take it and run with it and you're heading towards a thrilling finish ...if you have good enough individual runners, no weak links and no fumbling in the handovers.

Fortunately, that is clearly the case with the cast that Liège have assembled for this 2015 production. You know you have little to worry about when you have Leo Nucci, probably the best and most experienced Verdi baritone anywhere in the world today (over 440 performances) cast as Rigoletto. Nucci is never anything less than completely within the role and the drama of the moment, never playing to the audience, even though the open stage and traditional setting permits and even encourages such an approach. Nucci resists any temptation to grandstand and his singing remains firm, expressive and controlled. There's not a gesture, a note that you could fault or criticise anywhere. He knows the role of the Duke's jester just about better than anyone, and he's a simply a marvel here.

All of which, of course, only puts even greater pressure on your Gilda, particularly when the direction seems to focus on her role in the opera. Rigoletto, let's face it, is ostensibly a revenge drama. The curse of Count Monterone in revenge for the Duke's seduction of his daughter and Rigoletto's hiring of the assassin Sparafucile in revenge for the humiliation he has suffered at Gilda's dishonour create the tensions that drive the essence of the plot. There is however much more to the story and the characterisation than this, particularly in how Verdi scores for the characters and in how he arranges those duet confrontations.

Of particular interest to Stefano Mazzonis in this production is the development of Gilda from innocent young girl who knows nothing - not even the circumstances of her birth and parentage - to an independent young woman who acts of her own will in Act II, and out of choice, chooses to pay for the decisions she has made in Act III. As such there's a lot of pressure placed upon Desirée Rancatore in this production, and she carries it off quite impressively. There's a fine 'Caro nome' in Act I, but she only really comes into her role as this expression of innocence is left behind. Act II is challenging, all the more so for being paired with Nucci, but the two work well together. The close-up camera angle selected for Gilda's death scene is merciless on the viewer, particularly as Rancatore acts it so well. It's a measure of how far her character has come on, and a measure of how well Rancatore plays it.

Such is the success of the partnership between Nucci and Rancatore that that the Act II final duet 'Sì! Vendetta, tremenda vendetta!' is met with long and loud applause, and the audience are rewarded with an encore. It's rare to see these nowadays, but completely merited here, and the performance is just as thrilling second time around. Just to round things off to near perfection, the ORW production finds a terrific Duke in Gianluca Terranova. He has a strong, bright, clear delivery, plays up the charming seducer blithely unaware of the harm he causes other people rather than one who is cruel and heartless, but he doesn't overplay it either. Renato Palumbo's musical direction is measured and well-paced, the orchestra giving a fine performance, revealing all the power of Verdi's score as well as the subtleties and beauty that is there the characterisation.

Links: Culturebox, Opéra Royal de Wallonie

Rossini - La Gazzetta (L'Opéra Royal de Wallonie, 2014 - Webcast)

Gioachino Rossini - La Gazzetta

L'Opéra Royal de Wallonie, 2014

Jan Schultsz, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Cinzia Forte, Enrico Marabelli, Laurent Kubla, Edgardo Rocha, Julie Bailly, Monica Minarelli, Jacques Catalayud, Roger Joakim

Culturebox, Medici - Live streaming - 26 June 2014

It's not surprising, now that we are able to explore and rediscover much more of Rossini's work, to find that there are many familiar melodies in La Gazzetta that we would have heard elsewhere. The composer would often rework or reuse material written for other works, but all of the music in La Gazzetta, a comic opera based on a play by Carlo Goldoni, would all have been new to a Naples audience in 1816 when Rossini arrived there to commence what would prove to be a most productive period. Almost 200 years later, the Opéra Royal de Wallonie at Liège also manage to bring something new to the work, with the rediscovery in 2012 of the missing Act I quintet restored to the work for the first time.

The Liège company are at their best and have a good track record with productions of this kind of light comic opera, whether it's in the French and Belgian repertoire (Offenbach and Grétry) or even some of the more obscure end of the Italian comic opera repertoire in works like Galuppi's L'inimico delle donne or rarely heard early Rossini (L'equivoco stravagante). The approach is much the same with their 2014 production of La Gazzetta, and the results are equally successful and entertaining. Colourful, slightly stylised and modernised, but true to the intentions of the work without unnecessary revision.

Directed by Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera - the Artistic Director at Liège - La Gazzetta then takes into account rather more modern means of technological communications when ex-businessman Don Pomponino arrives at L'Aquila hotel in Paris and places an advert on the newspaper website lagazzetta.com that there will be a competition held at the hotel to find a suitable partner for his daughter Lisetta. Also staying at the hotel is Alberto, a wealthy young man who has unsuccessfully been searching the world to find a woman who matches his conception of beauty and perfection. Lisetta however has her own ideas about choosing the man she wants to marry.

Evidently, the arrangement and the path to finding one's perfect partner isn't as simple as that might make it might seem, and there is inevitably a lot of comic confusion over identities and a fair bit of donning of disguises. Alfredo mistakes various women for Lisetta and ends up finding the perfect match in Doralice. Lisetta meanwhile is actually in love with Filippo, an employee at the hotel, who tries to disrupt the competition by disguising himself as unlikely foreign suitors. With both fathers unhappy that their girls seem to be choosing suitors for themselves, the two couples dress up as Turks in order to escape and get married in a manner a little bit reminiscent of Così fan tutte.

With such creaky comic plot situations there's not really any call for modernising the work. There is possibly meant to be some kind of satire on the media involved in La Gazzetta, but not so much that you'd notice it or that it would distract from the fact that this is just a silly comedy at heart. So taking notes down on iPads, posting notices on the internet, and having a TV screen on up in the corner of the hotel reception doesn't really add anything, but it doesn't take anything away either. The Liège production at least looks sharp and stylish. Stylish, but maybe not fashionable as far as the ridiculous costumes go, but even this suits the farcical tone of La Gazzetta.

The set-designs by Jean-Guy Lecat also contribute perfectly to the breezy lightness of Rossini's comic touch. There's an exterior that shows the front of the hotel which rises to reveal the busy interior, with reception, lounge and even a corridor of rooms upstairs. It looks marvellous and it also gives plenty of scope for the drama to play out and flow smoothly from one scene to the next. As if this isn't enough, just for variety there are even some street-scenes that take place via projections of old Parisian streets and sights when Lisetta goes for a walk. Other than a few set-pieces that warrant it - a duel taking place using cannons - the comic exaggeration is never over-played in the direction or in the acting.

Liège also bring together a few regular performers who are well suited to this kind of opera. Cinzia Forte (last earlier this season on the Liège stage as Marzelline in Fidelio) stands out as Lisetta. Her voice is not a big one by any means, but she can scale up to those high notes with all the agility required of a Rossinian soprano. Just as importantly, she has a bright and sparkling personality that lights up the stage when she's on. Edgardo Rocha fulfils the same brightness on the tenor side as Alberto, and there are solid performances from Enrico Marabelli as Don Pomponino and Laurent Kubla as Filippo. The newly discovered quintet might not be considered a lost gem, but it's a critical part of the work and it's great to have it reinstated and hear it sung so well. Jan Schultsz's direction of this rare Rossini work is delightful in what is another fine and entertaining production from Liège.

Links: Culturebox, Medici.tv

Offenbach - La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein

Jacques Offenbach - La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège - 2013

Cyril Englebert, Stefano Mazzonis Di Pralafera, Patricia Fernandez, Sébastien Droy, Lionel Lhote, Sophie Junker, Jean-Philippe Corre, Giovanni Iovino, Patrick Delcour, Roger Joakim

Culturebox Live Internet Streaming - 27 December 2013

With their witty entertaining comic plots and an abundance of catchy tunes, it's easy to underestimate the cleverness of Jacques Offenbach's popular operettas. It's also easy to overlook the historical relevance of the works and the daring of the satire contained in them. A raucous opéra bouffe written for the Paris Exhibition of 1867 just three years before the Franco-Prussian war, La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein for example not only played to the crowned heads of Europe - Napoleon III, Alexander II, the Emperor Franz-Joseph of Austria and Otto von Bismark of Prussia among them - but Offenbach's comic operetta even made fun of them in this outrageous military satire.

Historical context aside, Offenbach's works are still capable today of striking home with contemporary relevance. There's no doubt much that could be made here of a war being manufactured by an influential Baron just so that a Duchess can amuse herself organising her own military regiment, causing havoc in the ranks in the process by promoting her favourite above those with merited rank. This however is not a route followed by the Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège, the company's Artistic Director Stefano Mazzonis Di Pralafera preferring to show that La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein is above all else a fine example of the kind of comic entertainment that Offenbach excelled in producing. Moving far away not only from the historical context of the work but also significantly rewriting characters and situations, the war in this version of La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein is a kind of Masterchef competition.

Here, in the Opéra Royal de Wallonie production then, Fritz is a humble dishwasher in the kitchen of a restaurant owned managed by Grand Duchess of Gérolstein. The Duchess does indeed organise her kitchen like a military operation and taking something of a fancy to the handsome dishwasher, promotes him to super-chef over the head of Chief Chef Boum. Boum is outraged and goes into competition working for a rival restaurant, but Prince Paul - recast here as the restaurant sommelier - is also extremely put out, since he's been trying to get the Duchess to marry him for ages. Fritz is a bit dumb however and doesn't realise the nature of the Duchess' intentions, so when he prepares to marry his beloved Wanda, the Duchess joins the aggrieved conspirators who are planning to launch a counter-attack against the new superchef who has cunningly won the 'Guerre des Chefs' competition through the use of strong alcohol.

There's evidently then quite a bit of rewriting here of Henry Meilhac and Ludovic Halevy's libretto for Offenbach's comedy, and it extends beyond the spoken dialogue sections through to the songs as well. It certainly stretches the intentions of the original material and dilutes the satire of the kind of situations and personal resentments that can lead to war and have much more serious consequences. Arguably however, particularly since there's not much to be gained nowadays from satirising the Franco-Prussian war, La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein must work primarily as a comedy. Despite the cleverness of a concept that is ripe for satire - presumably TV cookery shows and competitions are as popular in Belgium as they are in the UK - and some witty modern touches that get a laugh (recasting Baron Grog as Monsieur Redbul, for example), it doesn't quite come across as all that funny however without the bite of the military satire.

As it stands however, the Opéra Royal de Wallonie production of La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein is nonetheless deliciously light and entertaining. The production design is stylish in the way that is typical of how Stefano Mazzonis Di Pralafera treats such opéra comique material. Considerable attention is paid to developing distinct characters and personalities, good use is made of the space of the stage, with plenty of comic interplay, background gags and dancers providing constant movement and visual entertainment. With all the jaunty Offenbach melodies, boosted here with military-like marches, it's all entirely in keeping with the nature of the work and there's never a dull moment. There's even a 'Can-Can' thrown in for good measure at the end here.

There's also a special kind of singing required for opéra comique that requires deft performers capable of good comic interplay and timing, as well as a certain fleetness and brightness for the delivery of the often rapid-fire dialogue and fast rhythms. Sébastien Droy handles this all marvellously as the dumb but likeable Fritz, his exchanges with Boum, the Duchess and Wanda are all spot on. Patricia Fernandez is a little bit breathless and unsteady in the face of such challenges and struggles through the last act, but she has loads of personality as the Grande-Duchesse and carries the role well. The supporting roles are hard to fault with good turns from Giovanni Iovino as the speech-impaired Paul, Lionel Lhote as the self-important Boum and from Sophie Junker as a bright and vivacious Wanda.

The Opéra Royal de Wallonie production of La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein was streamed live on 27th December 2013 and is still available for viewing on the Culturebox website for France Television. There are no region restrictions but the subtitles are in French only.  They do however they extend to the revised spoken dialogue as well as the "tunes".

Grétry - Guillaume Tell

André-Modest Grétry - Guillaume Tell

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège, 2013

Claudio Scimone, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Marc Laho, Anne-Catherine Gillet, Lionel Lhote, Liesbeth Devos, Patrick Delcour, Stefan Cifolelli

ARTE Live Web, Internet Steaming, June 2013

I've been very impressed with the work that Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera has achieved over the last couple of years as director in charge of the Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège. There's been a good mix of standard repertoire done with some originality and flair, and there's also been some more adventurous programming of lesser-known but wholly accessible works deserving of rather more exposure (Haydn, Galuppi, early Rossini). This year has been no exception, but to celebrate the opera company's return to their restored home at the Théâtre Royal the 2012-13 season significantly opened and closed with rarely performed works by two composers born in Liège - César Franck (whose early work Stradella opened the new season) and André-Modeste Grétry.

Grétry is another of those composers who were wildly popular in their time but whose work is now considered somewhat unfashionable and unlikely to click with a modern audience. It's true that the spoken dialogue, comic diversions and pleasant melodies of the French opéra-comique operetta form is far removed from the serious Italian or German opera styles prevalent in the standard opera repertoire, and that the humour and musicianship is far from the sophistication of Grétry's contemporary Mozart. Written in 1791 (the year Mozart died) for Paris audiences by a composer who came through the French Revolution, the timing of his version of the William Tell story at least gives it some historical interest. It gives much more than that however in this terrific production from Liège, which goes to great lengths to reproduce the authentic nature and the spirit of the work, and manages to do so to great effect.

Running to only 85 minutes in length, Grétry's version of Guillaume Tell is considerably more concise in its treatment of the historical drama than Rossini's final masterpiece, but by and large the main points are the same. The composer even finds plenty of opportunity within this short running time to introduce all those little colourful interludes and songs that seem to have little relevance to the actual drama but are so much a part of the opéra-comique style. Here, at the opening of Act I it's all to do with the wedding of Melktal, the son of the chief of the canton, to Marie, the daughter of William Tell. Despite his father being away on business, discussing the question of the high taxes that are being demanded by the Austrian governor Gessler, the wedding is going ahead, and there is inevitably much singing and dancing.

The celebrations are however abruptly halted by the news of the elder Melktal's unfortunate run-in with Gessler. A dispute has arisen over the correct form to show respect to a representative of the Emperor and as a lesson, Gessler has demanded that his hat be displayed prominently in the town square, and that respects should be paid to it by everyone who passes. Melktal's father - it is reported rather than actually acted out - indignantly responds that he would never see such a thing, and promptly has his eyes burned out by the cruel governor. William Tell nevertheless also defies the ruling - and similarly we are told this rather than shown it - and is arrested, but is given the chance to save himself from execution if he can demonstrate his ability as the greatest archer in Switzerland by shooting an apple set on the head of his son. That bit we most definitely don't miss out on.

Despite the unusual approach to the development of the drama, with many diversions of local colour and humour, Grétry's Guillaume Tell is nonetheless wonderfully constructed, hitting all the necessary dramatic points with plenty of entertainment and colour. It's also performed that way in this charming production of the work by the Opéra Royal de Wallonie. Quite why there's so much comic exaggeration in the long drawn out phrases and curious intonations of the spoken dialogue, I'm not sure. Is this an historically accurate way of performing an opéra-comique, or is it just making fun of the Swiss Alpine accent in this particular work? It takes a little getting used to, but it does add something to what might otherwise sound silly - even if that is just more silliness. Most disconcertingly, it's even used during the grave account of the elder Melktal's blinding, which makes it curiously funny and disturbing at the same time.

Elsewhere there's a similar approach to the staging, which on the one hand looks cheesy with its old-fashioned Swiss country village setting and painted backdrops (including a wheeled on cow that leaves behind a bit of a mess), but it also captures the contradictory nature of this Guillaume Tell (and perhaps Grétry's ambivalent response to the Revolution which did him little favour as a composer and citizen of Paris) and gets across the spirit of the work in a way that feels authentic, or at least appropriate. Still allowing time for diversions as the drama escalates with William Tell's actions, this tone and its effectiveness is best exemplified in the battle scene which is played out with cardboard cut-out soldiers operated by puppet strings. A little more modern technical wizardry is called for in the critical apple shooting archery scene - a neon-lit arrow flying with slow-motion sureness on the darkened stage towards its goal - but again it all fits marvellously with the tone adopted.

The acting and singing performances are all also very much on the same page. The performances never pretend to be anything other than fully theatrical, but they are taken seriously within this context and never resort to tongue-in-cheek making fun of the work or its stylisations. This has been typical of Opéra Royal de Wallonie productions under Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, and once again it proves to be the best possible way of presenting this kind of material.

Also typical of the Liège company is the use of a strong regular cast of Belgian singers (with occasional imported Italians and other nationalities in works that require a more authentic touch). Accordingly, we have the usual solid performances from Marc Laho as Tell, although his character is somewhat surprisingly not tested with any arias in this work, Anne-Catherine Gillet as his wife (taking most of the main arias and singing them wonderfully), with Lionel Lhote as Gessler and Liesbeth Devos as the Tell's daughter Marie. With this kind of presentation, Grétry's Guillaume Tell becomes more than just a fascinating historical curiosity and comes fully to life once again as a marvellous entertainment.

The Opéra Royal de Wallonie's production of Grétry's Guillaume Tell is available for viewing for free via Internet Streaming on the ARTE Live Web site. There are no subtitles for the broadcast.

Massenet - Manon

Jules Massenet - Manon

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège, 2012

Patrick Davin, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Silvia Vázquez, Ismaël Jordi, Massimiliano Gagliardo, Marcel Vanaud, Guy de Mey, Roger Joakim, Alexise Yerna, Sabine Conzen, Marie-Laure Coenjaerts

Live Internet Streaming, 20 June 2012

Manon is all about the impetuosity and the folly of youth, the love of the glamour of the here and now, living in the moment, wanting it all, making mistakes along the way and taking all that comes with it with no regrets. That at least is how it is for Manon Lescaut herself, a 16 year-old about to enter a convent and about to see those delicious possibilities put forever out of reach. For Chevalier des Grieux, the young student who sees her, falls in love with her and sweeps her away to Paris, there’s evidently some of the same youthful impetuosity, but he also has dreams and illusions about the future in a manner that isn’t quite compatible with the ambitions of Manon, and it’s in the conflict of their ideals and their experience with the realities of the world that ends up destroying the brief period of their little idyll - the innocence of youth is fleeting - and ultimately leads to tragedy.

The setting isn’t that important then, since these are universal characteristics and their consequences are all too recognisable and inevitable. What is important as far as making Massenet’s opera work on the stage is finding the right tone that captures that sense of youthful idealism, flightiness, inconstancy, innocence and flirtatiousness in the first half that develops into something darker and more substantial in the second. On that account, the orchestra of the Opéra Liège, if perhaps a little sluggish in some earlier parts of the opera, give an overall fine account of Massenet’s deceptively light five-act opera-comique in this new production for the Opéra Royal de Wallonie, conductor Patrick Davin guiding them particularly well through in the darker passions of the latter half.

Manon must be seen as a journey in this respect, and if the first half feels slight, that’s how Massenet composed it, with its real strength and beauty only becoming apparent by the time we get to the conclusion. It’s undoubtedly with this in mind that Liège’s current director in residence Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera structures the production to come around in a full circle, the Prologue and initial scene of Act 1 opening where the opera closes, with Manon and des Grieux meeting again at Le Havre and looking back over the happiness of their time together, the past initially behind a screen but gradually coming to life again as if it has all been ‘relived’ by Manon in her final moments at the end of Act 5. The flashback idea is by no means an original one - there was even a hint of it in Mazzonis di Pralafera’s last production for Liège, La Traviata - but there is a valid reason for it here that is echoed in the repeated musical references at the end of both works, that is vital for tying the whole work together, blending the joy with the tragedy in a manner that makes the journey all the more significant. It’s a typically perceptive response to the work on the part of Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, and it’s one that helps carry the weaker elements in the production - although, really, there are few of those in this excellent production.

There’s at least not much to be concerned about as far as the singing is concerned. Manon demands two strong and capable singers of absolute conviction and the casting of two young Spanish singers, Silvia Vázquez and Ismaël Jordi, certainly meets those requirements admirably. Both need to be capable of conveying that sense of youthful innocence and wonder, capable of being swept off their feet by the discovery of new sensations, caught up in the glamour of themselves and the possibilities open to them. They both however need to be capable of demonstrating a deeper emotional register for the second half of the work, and again, there are no serious failings there. As Manon Lescaut, Silvia Vázquez has a strong enough voice and is capable of hitting all the emotional and vocal requirements, only sounding slightly out of pitch at the highest points. She carries the transformation of Manon from the impetuous youth of Act 1 to social butterfly on the Cour-la-reine promenade in Act 3 with the absolute conviction necessary.

Ismaël Jordi, who impressed me in the alternate cast for the Liceu’s 2011-12 production of Donizetti’s Linda di Chamounix, again shows himself to be a terrific up-and-coming lyric tenor as des Grieux here. His acting isn’t always the strongest, but some responsibility for this must go to the director, who, like his La Traviata, doesn’t always find something for the principals to do other than project out to the audience. When you are getting singing however like Jordi’s Act 3 ‘Je suis seul! …Ah fuyez, douce image!‘, as fine a rendition of Manon and des Grieux’s duet ‘N’est-ce plus ma main‘ and as powerful a scene as the one here between des Grieux and his father - wonderfully sung by Marcel Vanaud - those concerns are rendered relatively minor by the quality of the vocal expression of the sentiments the characters are experiencing.

It’s actually in this magnificent performance of the second scene of Act 3 that you can really see the production and the qualities of the structure and singing start to come together, reflecting the strengths of the work itself. Placing the single interval in the middle of Act 3 proves to be most effective in this regard, as there is a natural separation there between the different tones of the two halves of the opera. The sets and costumes are, for the most part, functional, never really establishing any unique character but, always busy with characters, chorus and extras, it works perfectly well for the purposes of the work with the overall structure of the piece. It’s well enough designed however so that the first three acts flow together with scarcely a pause for a scene change, which is quite a feat. One might like a bit more time to get to know the characters and enjoy the scenes - I think there may have been a few careful cuts in the dialogue passages here and there - but in a way it reflects the rush of youth, and, in the end, you come back to see these scenes through the light of experience later, which is perfectly appropriate and indeed well-considered for achieving the maximum impact, the opera ending powerfully with Manon returning to 'notre petite table' of Act 2.

Manon is the final free Live Internet Streaming Broadcast of the Opéra Royal de Wallonie at Liège’s 2011-12 season at the temporary structure of the Palais Opéra while renovation work is being carried out at the Théâtre Royal. Recordings are available to view again in full on the Dailymotion site for one weekend, usually a few weeks after the initial broadcast. The 2012-12 Season, recently announced on their web-site, has a great deal to look forward to on their return to the main opera house, including Verdi’s I Due Foscari and rarely performed works by César Franck and André-Modeste Grétry.

Verdi - La Traviata

Giuseppe Verdi - La Traviata

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège, 2012

Luciano Acocella, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Annick Massis, Xavier Cortes, Giovanni Meoni, Alexise Yerna, Cristiano Cremonini, Julie Bailly, Roger Joakim, Ziyan Atfeh, Patrick Delcour, Marcel Arpots, Iouri Lel, Marc Tissons

Live Internet Streaming, 26 April 2012

It’s almost becoming de rigueur for nudity and topless women to feature in opera productions these days, but up until Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera’s production for the Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège, I’d never seen it done before in La Traviata. A popular repertory work, Verdi’s La Traviata is usually done in a straightforward traditional period manner, but Verdi - himself subject to gossip and rumour about his relationship with Giuseppina Strepponi at the time of writing the work - wanted the opera to challenge contemporary attitudes towards unconventional relationships, and the frank directness of the La Traviata was indeed quite shocking for its time. Now all we have to “shock” an audience is a flash of a topless woman. I don’t want to be seen to be making excuses for the practice, but you can see how it could be valid in the context of Verdi’s other shocker of this period, Rigoletto, where nudity featured during the orgies of the Duke of Mantua in David McVicar’s production at the Royal Opera House, and I suppose the same case could be made for La Traviata. When you think about it, Violetta Valéry’s profession as a courtesan - the “fallen woman” of the opera’s title, necessarily treated with circumspection due to censorship restrictions in Verdi’s time - is likewise often also delicately glossed over in stage productions. Not so here.

One could make a case then that the use of nudity in all three acts in the Liège production is not just there for shock or titillation, but that it’s relevant to the themes and tied in with the structure of La Traviata itself. Originally titled ‘Love and Death’ during its composition, these two themes are vital to the impact of the work and they are where Verdi places the most emphasis in his scoring, with Violetta considering the possibilities of true love in the beautiful ‘Ah, fors’è lui’ in Act I, and reflecting on her death in ‘Addio del passato’ in Act III. On their own, certainly, these pieces are strong enough to encompass the beauty, the tragedy and complexity of emotions that have been engendered in Violetta over the short period of her time with Alfredo, but if the staging can draw the attention of the audience to what is being expressed, then so much the better. In Act I then, the aria is set alongside beside the revelry of the guests on a huge bed during ‘Si ridesta in ciel l’aurora’, while in Act III, there is an echo of a reminder of these times as Violetta hears the revelry of party-goers from her death bed. Act II meanwhile uses the nudity effect of the “bella ritrosetta” (“saucy little beauty”) to emphasis the connection between Love and Death in the play of Gastone and the Bullfighters, which otherwise seems like a piece of entertainment unconnected with the work.

Unfortunately, while there is relevance in how this all fits in with the opera and its themes - scored brilliantly by Verdi at his most melodic and inventive - there’s not a great deal else that stands out in the direction of this production, which struggles to find any interesting way to respond to the challenge of staging the familiar settings of the work. The first scene of Act II in particular really drags along. As heartfelt as the emotions are during the long scene between Violetta and Alfredo’s father Giorgio Germont as he tries to persuade her to give up her love affair with his son for the sake of his reputation and his family, and as well sung as these key moments of appeal are from both sides here during ‘Pura siccome un angelo’ and ‘Ah, dite alla giovine’, they gain nothing from having the two principals sit at the front of the stage and sing out towards the audience. There needs to be a little more connection felt, or at least tension between them over their respective desires and fears, and that’s hard to achieve without some good stage direction.

Aside from the use of brief nudity, the other two acts and the second scene of Act II then are otherwise unexceptional, but the staging does at least serve its function reasonably well. Even if the budget doesn’t always stretch to elaborate sets and designs, the Opéra at Liège under the direction of Mazzonis di Pralafera, seem to me at least to always manage to include a few original touches that allow them to strike a strong balance between traditional theatricality and some personal character. There are a few other minor touches here - Alfredo clutching Violetta’s bloodstained white nightgown during the overture, the guests at the society parties seated as if to watching the unfolding of the latest theatrical developments in society - which are interesting without straining the traditional narrative too much. The same principal would apply, it would seem, to the casting of singers who more than meet the demands of the work if not perhaps with any great distinction. As Alfredo, Xavier Cortes sings well - clear, strong and resonant, and Giovanni Meoni is a grave and dignified Germont Snr., but neither bring any great interpretation to the roles and they don’t look like they have been given a great deal of acting direction either.

Demonstrating however, in line with the rest of the production, that they know exactly the right places to place the emphasis, the performance of the orchestra under Luciano Acocella is marvellous and Annick Massis stands out as an exceptional Violetta Valéry. Even during the otherwise dull staging of the Germont/Violetta duets in Act II, the tempo and balance is considered throughout to give the performers the opportunity to really enter into the emotions of this critical scene. If the staging doesn’t work in favour of the singers there, elsewhere it has all the necessary impact, particularly in those aforementioned key moments of Act I and III, and their fine delivery by Annick Massis. She perhaps doesn’t have the fragile delicacy of Violetta in Act I, hitching up her skirt, hopping on a table with a glass of champagne and kicking off her shoes for her ‘Sempre libera’, but it captures the nature of the extraordinary new sensations awakened within her and it’s sung with strength, passion and character. On the flipside of those emotions, her ‘Addio del passato’ is filled with all the longing and heartrending emotion that likewise underpins the strength of the third Act. It’s a superb performance.

If the Opéra Royal de Wallonie’s production then doesn’t always demonstrate great originality, it does nonetheless manage to find its own character within the limitations of the setting, but more significantly, it knows exactly where to place the emphasis for the maximum impact and it takes great care with the casting to ensure that those moments can be achieved. With Annick Massis as an impressive Violetta Valéry, particularly strong in the Act III conclusion, and with Luciano Acocella directing the orchestra through a terrific performance that draws all those considerable qualities out of Verdi’s great score, this production, broadcast live via the website of the Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège, amounted to a very fine and occasionally impressive La Traviata.

Rossini - L’Equivoco Stravagante

Gioachino Rossini - L’Equivoco Stravagante

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège, 2012

Jan Schultsz, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Sabina Willeit, Daniele Zanfardino, Enrico Marabelli, Laurent Kubla, Julie Bailly, Daniele Maniscalchi

Live Internet Streaming, 28 February 2012

Written when the composer was only nineteen years of age, Rossini’s third opera L’Equivoco Stravagante (“The Curious Misunderstanding”), a drama giocoso, premiered in Bologna in 1811, playing only for three performances before it was banned by the police. It hasn’t been performed very many times in the intervening 200 years, so it’s wonderful to have the opportunity to see this rare early Rossini opera performed at the Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège (via internet streaming during its run there in February 2012), see it performed so well, and have the chance to consider the curious nature of the work and its history.

One thing that is immediately evident from this production is that even at this very early stage, the Rossini style is immediately recognisable in L’Equivoco Stravagante. It romps along with jaunty melodies and individual arias, the arrangements gradually building up to entertaining group finales with tricky vocal deliveries that match the content of the comic drama. The drama itself is, depending on your viewpoint, the typical nonsense of Italian opera buffa or a delightful farce, but it’s one that in this case is particularly outrageous – the material controversial enough to have the work censured and banned. Initially, it seems straightforward, the usual romantic complications ensuing from a situation where a wealthy landowner, Gamberotto, hoping to make a suitable marriage for his daughter – ie. one that is beneficial towards elevating his social position – has promised the hand of Ernestina to the wealthy but stupid Buralicchio. Ernestina has another suitor, Ermanno, but the penniless and timid young man would seem to have little chance of winning the favour of the bookish young woman, or persuading her father that he would make a good match.

That’s until the servant Frontino, hoping to assist Ermanno in his endeavours, comes up with an outrageous idea that is to lead to the “curious misunderstanding” of the opera’s title and, as it happens, the idea that also would lead to the work being banned. Buralicchio is fooled into believing that Ernestina is actually a man, Ernesto, the castrated son of Gamberotto, who only dresses as a woman as a means of evading military service. Buralicchio, incredibly, buys this rather implausible suggestion (he is extremely stupid after all), but when the military forces turn up at the Gamberotto household looking for the army deserter, it looks like Frontino’s plan could have backfired (and the composer’s when the police similarly brought down the curtain on the opera itself) .

Whether the libretto, by Gaetano Gasbarri, is as funny as it is supposed to be is difficult to say – there is a great deal of play on words and double meanings in the original Italian, but there were no subtitles on the performance of this production that I viewed when broadcast through the Opéra Liège web streaming service. The subject itself however is risqué enough, taking on two subjects that would have been controversial for its time through suggestions of castration (which was illegal), and dealing with desertion from the army. Without the ability to follow the original Italian libretto, it’s hard to say therefore whether the plot and libretto of L’Equivoco Stravagante is as funny as it is supposed to be or whether it’s just plain silly. All I can go on is the performances, and while they are all entertaining to watch and listen to, it’s obvious that the characters are broad buffo types – none of them particularly bright, and none of them entirely what they appear to be on the surface.

What is evident however, brought out particularly in the fine production by Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera which sets it in Hollywood during the 1920s or 1930s, is that there is some amount of social satire here on the class pretensions of the nouveau riche. The setting, in a Hollywood mansion adorned with fine art and a swimming pool at least makes that aspect of the aspirations for glamour and status from the non-hereditary wealthy more evident than it would have been if it were set during the Napoleonic era in which it was written, but it also means that the production looks wonderful. The casting is also good for the necessary appearances, and the singers, without exception, are marvellously adept at the buffo roles, as well as singing this particular work with the requisite Rossinian spirit and verve. Like most works of this type, it can be dramatically rather static on the stage, but the director and cast do their best to keep it all highly entertaining, as does the terrific performance of the music score by the Orchestra of the Opéra Royal de Wallonie under the musical direction of Jan Schultsz.

Galuppi - L’inimico delle donne

Baldassare Galuppi - L’inimico delle donne

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège 2011

Rinaldo Alessandrini, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Filippo Adami, Federica Carnevale, Liesbeth Devos, Juri Gorodezki, Priscille Laplace, Anna Maria Panzarella, Alberto Rinaldi, Daniele Zanfardino

Dynamic

Born on the island of Burano in the Venetian Republic, Baldassare Galuppi (1706 – 1785) is another case of a composer who was highly popular and successful in his own lifetime, but whose work soon fell into obscurity after his death. After a spell in London at the Kings Theatre, Galuppi, nonetheless served two terms as maestro di capella at St Marks in Venice, spent several years in Russia in-between as court composer for Catherine the Great, and left behind over a hundred operas, few of which have ever been revived. L’inimico delle donne is therefore a welcome opportunity to hear performed one of the later works for which Galuppi was celebrated in his day, the opera buffa.

Galuppi’s early work was in the fashionable opera seria style of the day, like everyone else working to librettos by Metastasio, but it was in the dramma giocoso, working in collaboration with the playwright Carlo Goldoni that Galuppi found a form more in tune with his style of composition that not only achieved great success and popularity, but left behind a certain amount of influence that can be seen in the works of Haydn (Lo Speziale, with a libretto also by Goldoni, and Il mondo della luna, for example) and Mozart, particularly on the style of Die Entführung Aus Dem Serail. It’s the latter than comes to mind often in L’inimico delle donne’s exploits of a lady who has arrived on an exotic foreign land and becomes embroiled in the romantic and political affairs of its ruler, but influential musical touches – particularly the ensemble finales, a characteristic that Galuppi would become known for – are also delightfully evident here.

It’s not Goldoni, but Giovanni Bertati (known also as the librettist for Cimarosa’sThe Secret Wedding) who adapted the Zon-zon, principe di Kibin-kanka for Galuppi’s 1771 opera, and indeed, much of the buffa conventions are all in place here in L’inimico delle donne (“The Enemy of Women”). Agensina has been shipwrecked on the oriental land of Kibin-kan-ka with her father, escaping from rich noble suitors that pursue her, since she has a profound dislike for men. Zon-zon, the prince of Kibin-kan-ka, is obliged by the law of the land to get married, but similarly he doesn’t like women, finds their scent revolting and considers them about as attractive as toads. Inevitably, after squaring up to each other when they are introduced, Zon-zon begins to find Agnesina not quite as disgusting as the suitable women lined-up for him by his retainers, while Agnesina for her part finds herself strangely flattered by the attentions of this foreign prince.

I say inevitably, but clearly there’s nothing inevitable about it except in terms of convention. There’s no real reason why Zon-zon would find Agnesina any more attractive than the other women presented to him, and there’s no reason why Agnesina would put aside her lifelong distaste for men either, but it’s just accepted that this is the natural course of events. As characters, they are far from fully-formed or convincing, and the situations – for all the comic potential they hold – are likewise scarcely developed and simply just resolve themselves. The most amusing moments occur when Agnesina’s father, Geminiano, is called upon to pretend to be the Idol Kakakinkara Kinkanaka in order to announce the marriage of Zon-zon and Agnesina as being the will of the gods – a deus ex machina which helps out Zon-zon as well as helping to make the plot work – and there is some entertaining rivalry when Xunchia is called upon to instruct the innocent foreign girl in the arts of love (she could do with some fashion tips too), but little of this is really exploited or even carried through to a satisfactory conclusion.

Surprisingly, the potential isn’t really exploited in musical terms either. The opera is spritely paced, with lively Baroque dance rhythms, but it’s all fairly conventional and not greatly aligned to emotional expression other than through slight variations of tempo. There’s very little recitative and even arias are brief and restrained, with no high-flown sentiments or great displays of vocal dexterity, but this treatment seems well-suited to the light-hearted subject. It’s also possible that Baroque music specialist Rinaldo Alessandrini has cut back on some of the excesses in his arrangement of the work to make this a bit more accessible in a modern context. Even so, the opera remains musically interesting, particularly in how horns and woodwind are employed in the score.

L’inimico delle donne is a modest affair then that in itself is not particularly funny, but there’s a lot of fun that can be drawn from it with the right kind of staging, and every effort is certainly put into it in this rare 2011 production by the Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège. The stage direction by Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera respects the period, the tone and the buffa conventions with its colourful Mikado-like Oriental setting, though it introduces a few twists of its own in the form of shadow projections in the background. These work well for the shipwreck sequence at the start, but rather strangely set the futile Turandot-like (song instead of riddle) attempts of the Court ladies to win the hand of Prince Zon-zon to back-projected sporting events. Overall however, the tone is perfect, the costumes appropriately outlandish and exaggerated, with some fun and imaginative props.

The music and the staging are well judged then, but what helps carry it all off are the performances. The singing is terrific from Anna Maria Panzarella (who will be familiar from various Rameau productions) as Agnesina and from Filippo Adami and Zon-zon, who both enter into the spirit of it in their acting performances without over-egging it. It’s Agnesina’s father Geminiano however who has some of the best lines and comic moments in the opera, and he’s wonderfully played by Alberto Rinaldi. There are no weak elements either in the Court ladies or retainers to the prince, with Liesbeth Devos standing out as the feisty Xunchia.

Released by Dynamic on DVD only, the quality of the image is generally good but not all that impressive. It doesn’t look like the production was shot in HD, but presented in Standard Definition NTSC it’s still quite good. Contrast is high, and there is some slight shimmering breaking up lines, but the colourful staging looks good and the camera work captures the occasion well. Audio tracks are LPCM stereo and Dolby Digital 5.1 and there’s a lovely tone to the orchestration and clarity in the singing. There is a little bit of ambient noise and stage clatter and one or two pops on the recording, but nothing that detracts from the overall quality. Subtitles are in Italian, English, French, German and Spanish.