Leoni/Giordano - L’Oracolo/Mala vita (Wexford, 2018)

Franco Leoni - L’Oracolo
Umberto Giordano - Mala vita

Wexford Festival Opera, 2018

Francesco Cilluffo, Rodula Gaitanou, Joo Won Kang, Sergio Escobar, Leon Kim, Benjamin Cho, Elisabetta Farris, Louise Innes, Francesca Tiburzi, Dorothea Spilger, Anna Jeffers

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 25 October 2018

You can always count on some Italian verismo to give Wexford Festival Opera a bit of an edge. Alfano's Risurrezione at last year's festival packed quite a punch, and if anything the impact is even more intense in this year's double-bill of two concise little gems that Wexford with Francesco Cilluffo at the helm once again have rescued from semi-obscurity for the 2018 festival programme. Franco Leoni's L'Oracolo and Umberto Giordano's Mala vita proved to be a fine complementary pairing that doubled-up the verismo impact.

To all appearances the two works don't have that much in common. Leoni's L'Oracolo (The Oracle) is set in San Francisco's Chinatown, a sordid tale of opium dens, kidnapping, betrayal and murder all squeezed into a one-act one-hour package. Giordano's Mala vita is more Italian in its Neapolitan setting of passionate outpourings in the realm of love and betrayal. There are however a few interesting commonalities brought out by the pairing together of the two works.

Essentially, both works are about ordinary human lives where the poverty of their environment has a lot to do with their actions. With nothing left to live for, characters are forced to resort to other means to lift them out of the misery of their situation, with drugs and criminality one indication of this in the backstreets of Chinatown in L'Oracolo. In L'Oracolo however, some turn to superstition in fortune-telling, and in Mala vita others turn to religion - or superstition again, if you like. In both cases however human nature proves to be stronger and it's not the good side of it.

In terms of verismo, L'Oracolo, written in 1905 could probably be most closely associated with Puccini's Il Tabarro (from Il Trittico), not least in its shock conclusion of the fate of the victim of a murder being disguised. Musically however, Leoni is in advance of Puccini in his use of street sounds and noises feeding into the score as atmospherics. Dramatically, it's pure Grand Guignol, involving opium den owner Cim-Fen kidnapping her young brother so that he can impress Ah-Joe when he 'recovers' the child. His efforts are hampered however by a rival for Ah-Joe's affections when San-Lui discovers his plot, forcing Cim-Fen to brutally kill him.

As if this isn't colourful enough L'Oracolo also has a number of busy street scenes set around the beginning of the Chinese New Year, with partying, dancing, a dragon procession, a lantern festival and the fortune-telling scene by the oracle that gives the opera its title, predicting two deaths to come. It also embarks on a revenge killing when San-Lui's father, the owner of a Chinese medicine shop, goes off to exact bloody retribution on the murderer of his son. As if that's not enough, director Rodula Gaitanou piles on the gore in place of the attempt to hide the death from the unfortunate policeman who works on this beat.

If Leoni's score is more impressionistic and dynamic in its balance of light and shade, Giordano's goes for an all-out Italian passions in Mala vita in a manner that takes it closer to Cavalleria Rusticana. Like L'Oracolo however its tale of poverty and the law of honour killings in the countryside, but is set in the poor district of the city of Naples. Religion and community however still play an important part, and in Giordano's three-act short work, Vito who is suffering from tuberculosis is inspired to seek out and help an unfortunate woman on the streets as a way of atonement and a plea to God for a cure for his illness.

Vito pledges to take prostitute Cristina out of the den she works in and promises to marry her, much to the fury of Amalia his mistress who is married to Annetiello, a sleazy character who already 'knows' Chrstina. The fallen woman gratefully accepts Vito's promise of redemption (shades of Alfano's Risurrezione there too) but is ultimately let down by Vito, who finds that his feelings for the spiteful Amalia are greater than his sacred vows to God and to a lowly prostitute. Left destitute once again, Cristina in this production - again rather emphasising the tone of lives in desperation - kills herself.

Musically, Giordano's score is every bit as overpowering as Cavalleria Rusticana, filled with religious processions, singing and dancing and huge choruses that are almost declamatory in delivery. You would almost think it might be taking things a little bit over-the-top, but then you remember Mala vita is set in Naples, so it might even be considered understated in that light. Francesco Cilluffo brings the fire out of both works, with a more appropriate lighter touch for L'Oracolo, while the orchestra is boosted by a larger string section to draw out the darker tones for Mala vita.

The singing performances also exhibit a similar range and appropriateness of tone. Mala vita provides the best opportunities for the lead soloists to shine, particularly for the competitive female leads of Cristina and Amalia, which are sung superbly by Francesca Tiburzi and Dorothea Spilger. Sergio Escobar, also singing San-Lui in L'Oracolo, was really given a chance to let his ringing tenor shine as Vito in Mala vita, fearlessly and impressively hitting all the expressive high notes.

The set designs and costume design (vaguely 1930s backstreet poverty) by Cordelia Chisholm were impressive; a rotating block of tenement flats with lower-floor shops and buildings that moved fluidly form one scene to the next. How the cast managed to keep up with this from one moment to the next and get themselves into position in the crowded stage is another wonder of stage management. All that was required for the change was to turn the shop signs from Chinatown shops to Italian ones, even if it still retained more of a San Francisco feel than an authentic Neapolitan scene. More important however was that it permitted a direct comparison and transference of theme across the two works, and - with those superb musical and singing performances - both accordingly came over with tremendous power.

 

Links: Wexford Festival Opera

Giordano - Andrea Chénier (Milan, 2017)

Umberto Giordano - Andrea Chénier

Teatro alla Scala, Milan - 2017

Riccardo Chailly, Mario Martone, Yusif Eyvazov, Anna Netrebko, Luca Salsi, Annalisa Stroppa, Mariana Pentcheva, Judit Kutasi, Gabriele Sagona, Costantino Finucci, Carlo Bosi, Gianluca Breda, Francesco Verna, Manuel Pierattelli, Romano Dal Zovo 

ARTE Conccert - 7 December 2017

There aren't too many directors who carry their own guillotine around with them, but for the opening night of the new season at La Scala, Mario Martone came well-prepared. The authentic looking guillotine used for La Scala's new production of Andrea Chénier is the same one the director used for his 2010 film about the French Revolution, Noi credevamo (Frères d'Italie) and most recently it was used in a theatre production of Buchner's Danton's Death that Martone directed.

It's good to be prepared and know your ground when you're embarking on a new production of Andrea Chénier at the same venue where it was first performed in 1896, at a house where it hasn't been performed in 32 years, and for an audience as exigent and demanding as those at the first night of the new season at La Scala. There's nothing wrong then with playing relatively safe with a largely traditional production, as Andrea Chénier is after all rather historically specific. Compared to some recent opening night controversies, a strong cast and spectacular performances at least ensured that it was a memorable evening for the right reasons.

In tune with the work itself, this was very much an operatic evening rather than any attempt to make a political point or director's statement. If there was a large mirrored background on the stage for Act I, it wasn't to reflect the aristocracy in the audience at La Scala as much attempt to draw Giordano's opera in on itself. Gérard mocks the ridiculous figures in static poses and the elaborately ornamented mirrors offer a distorted reflection of the world of the French aristocracy, playing parlour games and unaware of the dark shadows of the lives of ordinary people and servants that lie behind them. Even as word arrives from Paris, they can't see beyond their own distorted view of themselves.

Elsewhere Mario Martone's production refrains from any grand statements or gestures and yet it still seems to be perfectly in keeping with the grand gestures and statements of the work itself. Even with all its elements of self-sacrifice and humanism in the face of terror that lie at the very emotional heart of the work, Martone views Andrea Chénier foremost as an opera and indeed structured as an opera narrative rather than some kind of documentary realism that offers any insight into the nature and behaviour of those caught up in the nightmare of the French Revolution.

Viewing it as an opera above all else and with Riccardo Chially who conducted the last production at La Scale in 1985 again at the helm, the production and the performances consequently bring out the real musical qualities of the piece. And in fact while I often find the first act to be a little too mannered in its exposition, here I felt that this production tied it together much better than many otherwise fine productions I've seen of Andrea Chénier. Act I here doesn't set out to either vilify the aristocracy or seek sympathy for them, nor does it just show their dislocation from reality, but it actually brings together the themes raised in the parlour games relating to poetry and love, and shows them reaching their fullness of expression at the height of The Terror.

If Martone ensured that the production flowed smoothly as an opera, drawing attention to the dramatic focus of every scene perfectly while keeping it grounded in the world around it (and providing good spectacle as well), it perfectly matched the performance that Chially was drawing out of the orchestra. The La Scala orchestra were truly on fire, matching the passions of the work with a dynamic I haven't heard in this work before, alive to its shifts of tone, to the human element as much as the epic historical scale of the opera. The pacing and the balance with the singing and the drama was just masterful, revealing just how well-constructed and composed the work is even beyond its famous arias.

The challenges of the singing however are far from the least important aspect of the opera, and realistically you can't carry this work off as well as this without singers of great experience, talent and charisma. Obviously that's not going to be neglected at such an important event at La Scala, but the casting was not without some prior reservations, particularly at the suitability and capability of Yusif Eyvazov to take on a role as challenging and monumental as the poet Andrea Chénier. If there were some suspicion that he only got the role as the other half of Anna Netrebko, Eyvazov soon dispelled those reservations and proved himself to be worthy of his place in the big league with an exceptional performance here.

So perfectly is Andrea Chénier composed as an opera, that all the moments are there for the taking in each act, and my goodness, Netrebko, Eyvazov and Salsi never missed a trick. The direction of Act II's 'Ora soave' duet might not have revealed any great insights or nuances into character or situation, but it was just great opera and the pairing of Netrebko and Eyvazov revealed its worth. Netrebko was reliably impressive, impeccable in her phrasing and timing of the recitative, and explosive in her arias. Not terribly well-directed, it remained an opera diva performance, but that doesn't mean it was in any way lacking in passion, charisma or dramatic delivery.

Eyvazov however was by no means overshadowed by his wife, giving a commanding performance that was passionate and fully alive to the sentiments of the moment. It was clearly a push in some places, but Eyvazov rose to all the challenges - not least the all-important Act III trial scene at the Revolutionary Tribunal - with wonderful Italianate phrasing. Despite the large contingent of Russians and East Europeans in the cast, it's the emphasis on the Italianate that is ultimately the key aspect that make this production of Andrea Chénier at La Scala nothing less than stunning. That's not only reflected in the performance of the principals, but in the performance of Luca Salsi's Carlo Gérard and right down to Judit Kutasi's viecchia Madelon. There wasn't anything to frighten the conservative elements of the Milan audience here certainly, but there was plenty to impress and the audience responded accordingly.

Links: Teatro alla Scala, ARTE Concert

Giordano - Andrea Chénier (Munich, 2017)

Umberto Giordano - Andrea Chénier

Bayerische Staatsoper, 2017

Omer Meir Wellber, Philipp Stölzl, Jonas Kaufmann, Luca Salsi, Anja Harteros, J'Nai Bridges, Doris Soffel, Elena Zilio, Andrea Borghini, Krešimir Stražanac, Christian Rieger, Tim Kuypers, Ulrich Reß, Kevin Conners, Anatoli Sivko, Anatoli Sivko, Kristof Klorek

Staatsoper.TV Live - 18th March 2017

What can a director possibly bring to an opera like Andrea Chénier? Not an awful lot you would think (and David McVicar's recent Royal Opera House production would seem to bear this out) other than making sure that there is fidelity paid to the historical and the personal drama that lies at the heart of it. There's not much room for personal interpretation or modern revisionism in a work that has very specific application to the French Revolution and it shouldn't need any great elaboration or in-depth examination. The situation of three people caught up in its events and trying to follow the path of their hearts provides all the drama and spectacle it needs, with music and arias to match the heightened sentiments. Andrea Chénier is at least always a spectacle and that is a good starting point for Philipp Stölzl's production, but we get much more than that at the Bavarian State Opera.

Regarding himself primarily a filmmaker, even though he has done more notable work in the opera house at Salzburg and the Deutsche Oper, Stölzl's detailed storytelling risks over-complicating a work that is already quite densely and carefully designed. It overlaps and layers contrasting situations of love, revolution and poetry on the same page and at the same level of intensity. A more cautious director might strive for a different balance or a more restrained approach on at least one of those levels, but then it probably wouldn't be entirely Giordano's Andrea Chénier. The work itself, its enduring popularity and continued success stands on its own merits in that respect.

Even then the subject of the opera never seems terribly appealing. The first Act in particular is intense, deeply serious and not a little bleak at the prospect of the social 'reforms' taking place under the law of the Third Estate. It hardly seems like the best place to set a love story, but this is verismo opera and as such it's hard-hitting and unsparing in its approach to the flame of love briefly flaring up in a cold and inhospitable environment. Philipp Stölzl seems intent on making all those layers and complications visible right up there on the stage at all times and almost simultaneously; the servants and common people down below, the aristos above in a huge cross-section of the Château de Coigny.

I recall a similar multi-level approach in Stölzl's Rienzi, but the layering of different lives and underlying realities is also evident in his Parsifal, where the overture played out to a detailed scene of the crucifixion of Christ and the laughter that seals Kundry's fate. It's not a detail that normally needs to be elaborated on in that opera, nor is the backstory described by Gurnemanz usually shown as if there are Stations of the Cross. The director takes such literalism and over-elaboration to new lengths here, but it works. The extraordinary set rolls the building along to reveal new wings, more buildings and more rooms filled with little detailed miniatures that look like scenes from period revolutionary paintings.

The handling of each little scene however is superb, adding to the bigger picture of the opera without diminishing the impact of the main drama. Act II culminates with a superbly choreographed chase through the Paris sewer system where Chénier and Maddalena are pursued by revolutionary soldiers, the intensity of the dramatic staging matched by the delivery of the singing. It does much to enliven the difficult scene-setting first act considerably and set things up for the latter half of the work which provides much more scope to explore the contrasts and contradictions of the revolution, the characters, their beliefs and their personalities.

It's a world of contradictions and Stölzl does well to highlight them. Having Gérard sing of transforming the world and embracing all men with love while we can see Chénier being tortured in a cellar below him is not just a matter of heavy-handed irony, but it actually brings nuance to the contrast between ideals and actions, something that Gérard at this stage probably already recognises. It can certainly come across as heavy-handed when you add a romantic triangle into this, but again, this is another case of ideals not matching actions. The heart is a contradictory thing and love can quickly turn to hate.

For this reason it's also possible to see Gérard as just as important a figure in the opera as Andrea Chénier or Maddalena, or perhaps that is indeed a matter of emphasis and context that can be applied to the opera. Or perhaps it is a side of the opera that can become more meaningful depending on the times we are living in, which proves that Andrea Chénier can be about far more than a tale of the French Revolution, and it doesn't need any modernisation for its more universal meaning to extend beyond the historical events of the past.

The casting in Andrea Chénier can have much to do with where that balance lies and you can hardly say that the Bayerische Staatsoper cut any corners here. Jonas Kaufmann and Anja Harteros are the big attractions and they don't disappoint in either singing or acting performances. It's difficult to pin just how good they are down to one scene, as every moment is entirely in character with few of the traditional operatic mannerisms. It might be better if Kaufmann could hold back a little occasionally, and it might save his voice from further problems, but in the same way as Andrea Chénier wouldn't be Andrea Chénier if it was half-hearted, Kaufmann wouldn't be Kaufmann if he wasn't giving it everything. This is a character that he really believes in however, and you can't fault his commitment, performance or ability.

I haven't always felt that Anja Harteros was right for every role I've seen her in - and Verdi can definitely be a strain on her voice - but there's no question she has the voice for verismo and the acting ability to go with it. Again, it hardly serves to look at any one scene in isolation as this is a performance that grows and develops along with the drama, but you can't ignore her 'La mamma morta' scene. Her reaction to Gérard's advances are superb, the hatred, disgust and disdain mixed with passionate determination is palpable. Stölzl certainly sets up the scene well, not unexpectedly showing the actual dead mother vividly in a movie-like cutaway, but Harteros is more than capable of giving this aria all the poignancy it needs. She even seems to look directly into the camera during the live broadcast and it really feels like one of those 'moments'. She nearly brings the house down.

What most impressed me about the Bayerische Staatsoper's production - and really you have your choice of impressive qualities here - is that not content with having Kaufmann and Harteros, they matched Chénier and Maddalena with an equally impressive Gérard in Luca Salsi. It's by no means a lesser role, and may even be a more complex character than the other two, but giving equal weight to Gérard (in the same way that Stölzl gives equal weight to the smallest detail in each of the scenes) really brings out the true value of the opera. With a Gérard like this you have an impregnable, solid triangle that can support all the tensions of the drama, the politics, the romance and the tragedy.

The Bayerische Staatsoper really are operating at the highest levels of artistry at the moment. Their current live broadcast season at least shows them as one of the best houses in Europe at the moment, and this Andrea Chénier is no exception. It's not a favourite work of mine, but there is no denying its power when it is done well. My only complaint would be that Stölzl's staging is more of a 'big screen' production that would have more impact live than it would on a reduced streamed internet broadcast. I'm sure in the theatre that the orchestral performance would have matched the scale of the production, because it came across clearly even in the live stream. Omer Meir Wellber conducted another powerhouse performance from the Bavarian orchestra that was dynamic, intense and sensitive, faultless in its musical and dramatic pacing, everything flowing towards that devastating conclusion. I'd be reluctant to describe any production as 'definitive' but this is an Andrea Chénier that is as good as it gets.

Links: Bayerische Staatsoper, Staatsoper.TV

Giordano - Fedora (Genoa, 2015 - Webcast)

Umberto Giordano - Fedora

Teatro Carlo Felice di Genova, 2015

Valerio Galli, Rosetta Cucchi, Irene Cerboncini, Rubens Pelizzari, Sergio Bologna, Paola Santucci, Margherita Rotondi, Manuel Pierattelli, Alessandro Fantoni, Luigi Roni, Claudio Ottino, Roberto Maietta, Davide Mura

Carlo Felici Web Streaming - 24 March 2015
 
The spirit of Victorien Sardou weighs heavily upon Umberto Giordano's Fedora (1898). Adapted from Sardou's play, it has much in common with Tosca, even though Puccini's opera version of that work wouldn't come until two later. History has made judgement on the relative value of the two works and undoubtedly Puccini's particularly visceral treatment of similar romantic-historical material has ensured that the later work would eclipse not just Fedora but the only other well-known work by Giordano, the revolutionary drama of Andrea Chénier.

Unless you have a complete aversion to Puccini - and there are many in the opera world who are at least agnostic as far as the composer is concerned - it would be hard to argue that either of Giordano's best known works rates well alongside almost anything by Puccini, and not just Tosca. A fine production of Fedora by the Teatro Carlo Felice in Genoa (broadcast live from their web-streaming service) however gives us an opportunity to consider whether history, and the love of Puccini's admittedly more populist treatment of the subject, has been unkind to this particular work.

It might resemble Tosca in its dramatic format, but Giordano's approach to verismo opera is rather more purist. There are no familiar numbers, the music arising out of the drama, if not quite flowing in easy through-composition. There is only one real aria, a very short one ('Amor ti vieta di non amar'), but a famous one nonetheless, sung not by the leading lady of the title, Fedora, but by her lover Loris. The real problem with Giordano's treatment however is that it doesn't propose any significant distinguishing character of its own.

Giordano's music and approach to opera is unfortunately and all too apparently, no great advance upon the work of the undisputed master of Italian opera, Verdi. Puccini made his mark in his melodies and in storytelling that touches the heart in his early work and he even extend his techniques into impressionism and through-composition in his later operas, but on the strength of Fedora (and Andrea Chénier), Giordano might have the musical ability, but the chosen subject matter of his operas, and in particular the influence here of Sardou, don't really provide the kind of material that is going to break any new ground.

Although Giordano's musical approach to the subject doesn't really bear any comparison with Verdi, Fedora does however resemble the structure and nature of La Traviata more closely than any similarity with Tosca. It's a tragic story of a woman who falls for the wrong man (twice!), and because of actions in the past, is unable to find happiness and love, and is doomed to die a terrible tragic death in her lover's arms, believing that she cannot live with the betrayal. As melodramatic as the story is, it's typically well constructed for dramatic effect, getting straight to the romantic heart of the story, complicating it with some political involvement, and indicating early on that there are going to be tragic consequences later.

Set in St. Petersburg during the troubled late years of Czarist Russia, the tragic heroine here is the Princess Fedora Romazov. She is about to be married to Count Vladimir Andrejevich, but the first we see of the count is him being carried onto the stage wounded and dying. Suspicion for his murder falls upon Count Loris Ipanov, and to try to obtain proof, Fedora travels to Paris where she hopes to lure the Count into a confession. Unfortunately, when she learns the nature of the truth - that Loris did indeed kill Vladimir, but only because he was a dissolute wretch who seduced his wife - she really does fall in love with him. Their happiness together would be threatened if Loris knew of Fedora's connection to the Count, and indeed, Nihilist attacks on the Romanov family bring events and revelations tragically to their door.

Giordano's treatment of the subject is earnest, not overly distracted by the melodrama or seeking to overplay it (as you could accuse Puccini of doing in Tosca). One lovely touch, for example, is to set the key confession and revelation scene of Fedora's confrontation with Loris not to any great orchestral arrangement or with any kind of flair that would beg comparison with La Traviata, but rather setting it in contrast to a piano piece being played in the background at the Paris reception by an invited Polish musician Lazinski. It's wonderfully effective, as is the simplicity and placement of the beautiful short aria 'Amor ti vieta') in this act.

As fine as this is, there's still not dramatically or musically distinctive enough, but Fedora nonetheless remains a work that places big demands on its soprano and tenor leads (the role of Loris famously created by Caruso), and it can still be effective when it is sung well. If you want to see this work in its true Italian character moreover, you want to see it put on at an Italian opera company, and that's done rather well here in Genoa with Valerio Galli conducting the very capable Carlo Felice Orchestra and the principal roles well taken on the web broadcast performance of 24th March, by Irene Cerboncini as Fedora and Rubens Pelizzari as Loris. Technical problems prevented a viewing on the 21st of the principal cast of Daniela Dessì as Fedora, illness preventing her partner Fabio Armiliato from singing Loris that evening in any case. That's an indication of the kind of singers required for these roles, and the alternate cast didn't disappoint.

There's really only so much you can do with a drama like this however and Rosetta Cucchi doesn't really find any way to make it feel more relevant or contemporary. There is an attempt to frame the opera in flashback, an aged Loris seen at the beginning of each of the acts and at the conclusion. As such the production extends the scope of the drama to take in subsequent political upheaval that would have occurred in Loris's lifetime - silent scenes from WWI play out in the background at the start of the acts, but it's not to any great effect. The main part of the opera remains hard to distinguish from a production of La Traviata, with its period dress, ballroom scene and tragic finale. Attention to characterisation was strong however, and with good singing performances, this was a fine way to re-evaluate one of the many forgotten works of Italian verismo.

Forthcoming operas streamed from the Teatro Carlo Felice are BILLY BUDD on 17th April, CARMEN on the 8th and 12th May and THE MERRY WIDOW on 18th July.

Links: Teatro Carlo Felice Streaming

Giordano - Andrea Chénier

Umberto Giordano - Andrea Chénier

Armel Opera Festival, Sgezed, Hungary 2012

Tamás Pal, Géza Bodolay, Leïla Zlassi, Eduardo Aladrén, Attila Reti, Júlia Vajda, Zsófia Kalnay, Tamás Altorjay, Antal Cseh, Éva Szonda, János Szerekován, Szilveszter Szelpal, Ferenc Herczeg, Milán Taletovics, Zoltán Lorincz

Internet streaming - ARTE Live Web, 6 October 2012

There is only one standard repertory opera in the 5th Armel Opera Festival competition at Sgezed in Hungary - and even then Giordano’s verismo French Revolution piece Andrea Chénier is not that commonly performed - but it’s one that at least gives two of the competition finalists the opportunity to sing in a style that is a little more traditional than the other four modern works produced here. Although the demands of the work might be different, Andrea Chénier is however no less challenging in terms of the singing and acting ability that can only be measured in competition by performance in a fully staged work, and fortunately both competitors here proved capable and well suited here to the more classic style of performance.

Géza Bodolay’s staging of the work for the Szeged National Theatre obviously had to work with a budget considerably less than the one available to the Bregenz Festival for their 2011 lake staging (the entire stage modelled on a giant construction of the famous painting of the Death of Marat), but with good period costumes and making good use of the chorus for party-goers and crowd scenes, the director was able with the minimum of props and sets to get a sense nonetheless of the final decadence of the French aristocrats and the horrendous fate that awaits them in the coming Terror. The use of a dark silent figure with a white face to represent the Terror and the guillotine (although one of those was present on the stage as well) also served to heighten the reality and horror of the situation. It was the small touches that counted here, like the use of revolving panels at the back of the stage to depict the imprisonment and torture of Bersi and Chénier, but they also allowed crowds to quickly swarm onto the set. This would have been an effective strategy for the Act I confrontation organised by Gérard between the common people and the aristocrats, but the director chose to set the people among the audience for this key scene.

The choice of opera and the stage direction then provided a more than adequate platform to show the skills of Leïla Zlassi in the role of Maddalena and Eduardo Aladrén as Chénier. There were perhaps a few minor problems in with pitch and range in the Act 1 arias, but by-and-large both singers coped well with the singing and acting demands of the roles. Eduardo Aladrén made the necessary strong and charismatic impression as Chénier in Act I, and sustained this well in collaboration with Zlassi through the subsequent acts, the duets at the end of Act II and Act IV in particular being well presented. Zlassi’s Act III aria, ‘La mamma morta‘ was excellent, performed with real feeling and good technique. If there was anything lacking in the performances of both singers, it was perhaps that they lacked the necessary force and stamina required for the roles, but they were clearly capable of making the roles come to life and achieve the necessary impact.

The role of Gérard is no less vital for the work than Maddalena or Chénier however, and it needs a little more charisma and dynamism than Attila Reti’s was able to provide. Capably sung and performed, his baritone lacked any real colour and his acting was all directed out towards the audience. A strong overall production, the Szeged Symphony Orchestra directed by Tamás Pal giving a good account of the work, the strength of the performances right across the board in all the little colourful secondary characters and in the chorus work, provided a strong base for the work and demonstrated that it’s the little details that count and which give Andrea Chénierall the dynamic and character that lies within its verismo subject.

The Armel Opera Festival production of Andrea Chénier is currently available to view on-line from the ARTE Live Web site.

Giordano - Andrea Chénier

Umberto Giordano - Andrea Chénier

Bregenzer Festspiele, 2011

Ulf Schirmer, Keith Warner, David Fielding, Héctor Sandoval, Norma Fantini, Scott Hendricks, Tania Kross, Rosalind Plowright

Unitel Classica – C-Major

If you want to convey a sense of the outrageous decadence of pre-Revolutionary France and blithe ignorance of the rich with regards to the reality of conditions for the poor in a production of Giordano’s Andrea Chénier, you would be hard pressed to match the extravagance of the one staged on the lake at Bregenz in 2011, where a huge head and upper torso of Marat, based on Jacques-Louis David’s famous painting ‘The Death of Marat’, seems to rise out of the water with Lake Constance as his bathtub. The open-air lake stage at the Bregenz is traditionally an opportunity for spectacles to rival the Arena di Verona, but that doesn’t mean that it comes at the cost of attention to detail in the direction of the opera itself or towards the quality of the singing, and that’s certainly the case with this production.

It’s vital of course to set the tone right from the outset, since Act I of Andrea Chénier sets the scene for everything that is to follow since. Dressed in colourful, gaudy costumes and balancing enormous wigs on their heads, it’s here that the guests of a soirée at the Château de Coigny are to have their cozy little gathering interrupted and their privileged position challenged by the first stirrings of revolution. Attending the event is the humanitarian and poet André Chénier, who is goaded by Madeleine de Coigny into reciting a verse as a party piece. The beauty of Chénier’s words shames Madeleine and the company, showing them up as being detached from reality and sincere feelings. But there is worse to come when their dancing is rudely interrupted by the butler Gérard who turns up with a bunch of beggars and speaks up for the suffering and mistreatment his family and fellow servants have suffered at the hands of the noble hosts and their kind. All these ominous signs of discontent confirm the Abbé’s warnings and his admonitions that all is not well at the Royal Court.

Act II takes place four years later in the aftermath of the revolution, and the opera develops – inevitably – into a romantic situation between Chénier and a contrite Madeleine de Coigny who comes to him looking for help. In a situation that Puccini would mirror to some extent later in Tosca – the similarities not surprising since Luigi Illica wrote the libretto for both – their happiness is threatened not only by an inescapable involvement in the politics of the revolution (Chénier disillusioned by the Reign of Terror is being urged to flee Paris), but also by Gérard, who is now one of the main figures of the Revolution and in love with Madeleine himself. Romance is to the fore in Andrea Chénier, but it’s aligned very closely with the history, politics and sensibilities of the period. Even Gérard has come to doubt the cause, or at least the methods used by the Revolutionary Tribunal, and questions whether there can be redemption in love or in giving oneself over to sensuality, again not so different from the dilemma faced by Scarpia and the choice he has to make between God and Tosca. The situation, taken similarly to arrest and execution, is however scarcely any less dramatic here in Andrea Chénier.

Despite the opportunities to rather over-play the drama, Keith Warner’s production is relatively restrained and in keeping with the content. It is grand spectacle certainly, but the designs are well used for the purpose of keeping the drama moving. Not only is the extraordinary set by David Fielding decorated with several platforms so that action can play out simultaneously on different stages, but there are several other hidden recesses that open up on occasion to disgorge additional horrors as the Reign of Terror takes hold over the course of the opera. Performers even have to travel by rowing boat from the main stage to another floating platform that represents the St Lazare prison. There are a few stunts where extras and doubles plunge into the lake itself, but it doesn’t feel excessive in the context. Additional Interludes – the end of Act I for example showing the popular uprising set to a screeching electric guitar playing the Marseillaise – may however be taking things a little too far.

In this context, climbing staircases from one level to the next, you’d be forgiven for thinking that the performers in the main roles might have been chosen for their level of fitness and for having a head for heights (both of which are undoubtedly necessary here), but they are also fine singers. Mexican tenor Héctor Sandoval is in the classic romantic tenor mould as Chénier, and he is well matched with Norma Fantini’s Madeleine. Baritone Scott Hendricks however almost steals the show as a spirited Gérard. None of them seem at all disconcerted or the least put-out by the tricky manoeuvring and stage placements that are required. Radio mics are inevitable on a set like this and are not so discreet, but while it’s not ideal the sound recording is good and well mixed for both the singing and the orchestra on the Blu-ray disc, which also boasts a fine High Definition image. There are no extra features on the disc other than trailers for other releases, but the enclosed booklet has a synopsis and a brief interview with Keith Warner on the production.