Rossini - Armida (Ghent, 2015)

Giaochino Rossini - Armida

Opera Vlaanderen, Ghent 2015

Alberto Zedda, Mariame Clément, Carmen Romeu, Enea Scala, Robert McPherson, Dario Schmunck, Leonard Bernard, Adam Smith

Dynamic DVD

Operas set around the Crusades were popular in the 18th and 19th century and, often drawing inspiration from Ariosto's Orlando Furioso and Torquato Tasso's La Gerusalemme liberata featuring the mythical figures of Orlando/Rinaldo and the sorceress Armida, you can see the opportunities for heroism and enchantment. Composed in 1817 for the reopening of the Teatro San Carlo in Naples which had been burnt down, Rossini's Armida however, while it certainly draws on these elements for some fine musical writing and has its share of heroism and enchantment, appears to be more geared towards presenting a showcase for its leading singers than in delivering any meaningful narrative purpose or emotional truth.

That however doesn't prevent Mariame Clément from trying to impose some kind of half-baked 'concept' onto the 2015 Opera Vlaanderen production. I can understand that playing it straight with Armida is just as likely to not be very successful, but Clément's half-way house approach, aligning the idea of heroism with sporting achievement and throwing in some random elements doesn't really achieve anything. At the start of Act I, we see the celebrating Frankish soldiers in robes and chainmail, covered in the blood from their latest battle, fooling around with a blow-up doll in what looks like a sports stadium. Goffredo, on the other hand dressed in a modern suit, orders them to respect the honour of their dead commander Dudone.

In the midst of the celebration, Armida the sorceress arrives, full of Eastern mysticism, asking for help to claim the throne that has been stolen by Idraote. It's a scheme of course, but she was perhaps not counting on Rinaldo being chosen to lead a group of warriors that will be sent to help her. She and Rinaldo have history, but Armida's ability to use her magic for enchantment allows her to bind and blind Rinaldo and the other men to her wiles. What she wasn't counting on was her love for Rinaldo resurfacing or the devastation it would cause when his men help the similarly lovestruck Rinaldo escape from her clutches and return to his heroic mission.

It's not the most thrilling or dramatic of situations. Schemes are weaved, declarations are made that aren't particularly noteworthy, but they often lead up to dramatic finales with rousing choruses, huge crescendos and show stopping numbers at the end of Act I and Act III. Act II however feels rather more like a time filler and the director is unable to find any way of enlivening it. As with Act I the production doesn't resemble any visual descriptions in the libretto or synopsis. The Prince of Hell, Astarotte’s demons are the former Crusaders, still drenched in blood but now wearing black football shirts. Armida and Rinaldo wake up not in a forest on the pleasure island of Fortune but on a couch, and since Armida is a sorceress there's no reason I suppose she shouldn't make their repose a little more comfortable than on a forest floor. There's not much else in the way of enchantment spectacle, the couch merely floating up for a group of nymphs to make their entrance.

Act III doesn't get a great deal more exciting dramatically, but the interesting resonances that Armida has with operas past and to come is more evident here. On the one hand you can clearly hear Rossini's debt to Mozart's Die Zauberflöte in the enchanted forest with the return of the nymphs and there are echoes of Così fan tutte's 'Soave sia il vento' in the duet between Armida and Rinaldo. Wagner comes to mind more than once in terms of mythology and heroism, not so much musical, in the attempted seduction of knights by the Parsifal-like flower maiden nymphs and there are parallels with Tannhäuser's leaving of Venus in Rinaldo's escape from the enchantment of Armida for a more noble enterprise. Originally written to showcase the range of Isabella Colbran, it's Armida however who gets the last word here.

If Mariame Clément's direction doesn't really bring any more depth to the work, the fault is probably more with the opera than the production. The narrative might be slim and the characterisation paper thin, so the most you can hope for is that the production at least remains close enough to give you a sense of where the real qualities of the work are, which is in the music and the singing. The sporting rivalry, chainmail and football outfits don't really work, but at the same time there is no reason to take this opera seria too seriously. The rivalry of the jealous Gernando plays well with some comic elements in Act I, but Act II is rather inert and not much to look at, failing to make anything of the nymph seduction pantomime. Rossini’s 'danza' music however is wonderful. There are no new ideas floated in Act III, with simple backdrops and more imagery of the 'soul' of Rinaldo (or something) as a footballer. It definitely looks like there is a shortage of ideas with what to do with the opera, but maybe it's not the most inspiring work by Rossini. Or maybe the budget isn't there.

Rossini's Armida may not be the most exciting or magical episode in the story of Orlando/Rinaldo and Armida, but as an opera seria it certainly presents opportunities for strong heroic roles and sparkling singing performances and the chance for singers to show their range. Carmen Romeu sings Armida well, but it's clear that it is an enormously challenging role and the direction never quite manages to give her much character to explore. Armida's final number 'Se al mio crudel tormento' is delivered well, but in the context of the work/production feels like it is lacking any real purpose. The other roles, the opera having no less than four tenor roles, are well taken with an impressive Enea Scala as Rinaldo contrasting well with Robert McPherson in the high tenor range as Gernando and Dario Schmunck as Goffredo. Musically, there is much to enjoy in Rossini's score and the Vlaanderen orchestra is well-conducted with delicacy and a lightness of touch by Alberto Zedda.

The quality of the Dynamic DVD release of Armida - reviewed here from a 14 DVD box set Rossini Serio (e Semiserio) - is not great when viewed on a High Definition display. Some DVD players may be able to handle the conversion better, but to me there was too much discolouration and blocky compression artefacts. The opera is spread across two DVDs, Act 1 & 2 on disc 1, Act 3 on disc 2. The uncompressed LPCM 2.0 and the Dolby Digital 5.1 audio tracks are excellent with detail and good separation in the mixing of the orchestra. Curiously two male dancers wearing very little take a curtain call who I have no recollection of appearing anywhere in the production. Perhaps my attention is lacking (it's not the most thrilling of operas) as I can't imagine that this scene was cut from the DVD release.

External links: Opera Ballet Vlaanderen

Spontini - Fernand Cortez (Florence, 2019)

Gaspare Spontini - Fernand Cortez ou la Conquète du Mexique

Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, 2019

Jean-Luc Tingaud, Cecilia Legorio, Dario Schmunck, Alexia Voulgaridou, Luca Lombardo, David Ferri Durà, André Courville, Gianluca Margheri, Lisandro Guinis, Davide Ciarrocchi, Nicolò Ayroldi, Leonardo Melani, Davide Siega Silvia Capra, Delia Palmieri

Dynamic DVD

The early-to-mid 19th Century is crowded with opera classics but those we see regularly tend to be the works of a small number of Italian composers, mostly Rossini, Donizetti and Bellini, who dominate the era and push any other notable composers into the shade. Certainly by the time that Verdi and Wagner came along, the fate of those who came before was sealed as being somewhat old-fashioned and destined to fall into neglect and obscurity. When composers like Paer, Catalani, Mercadante or Ponchielli do get some recognition, it's usually for one celebrated work that occasionally gets a revival. In Spontini's case that work is La Vestale, an opera that stands up more as an example of good craftsmanship where any real creativity has been stifled by the necessity of  formal adherence to conventional numbers, a style that means that such works have little to offer the world today. But, is it fair to judge a composer on a single work, and should we not be looking further into this neglected back catalogue?

Well, thankfully that's what the Pergolesi Spontini Foundation have been doing for two significant composers associated with the town of Jesi in the Marche region of Italy over the last decade or so. Several rare Pergolesi masterpieces have been unearthed and new critical editions established leading to some revelatory productions. The efforts of the Foundation are also aimed now at boosting the profile of Gaspare Spontini and, on the basis of this Maggio Musicale Fiorentino production of his 1809 French opera Fernand Cortez, ou La conquête du Mexique, early 19th century Spontini doesn't seem to be quite as tied to opera seria as Rossini or Donizetti but more forward looking, already pointing in the direction of Meyerbeer, Verdi and Berlioz.

There's plenty to grab the attention in the situation, plotting and aspirations towards grand-opera in the opening scenes of this almost three hour long opera. Set during of the conquest of Mexico, the forces of the Conquistador Hernán Cortés are starting to get restless, fearing that they will eventually have to pay a high price for their commander's drive for glory against the Aztec emperor Montezuma. There's inevitably a romantic angle brought into the opera through Amazily, a Mexican princess who Cortez has saved from death, and who in turn has also saved his life, and their love for each other also faces challenges. Another danger is that Montezuma has acquired weapons and is threatening to sacrifice Cortez's brother Alvaro and two of his men.

All of this in Act I provides opportunities for declarations of love, war and peace, with exotic colour, marches, large choruses and ballets, Spontini making the most of these promising situations with an explosive finale at the end of the Act that you would expect. There's nothing out of the ordinary here - as with La Vestale Spontini approaches the drama with a sense of beauty and melody that is somewhat conventional - but it certainly holds attention. The Maggio Musicale Fiorentino production likewise plays it fairly conventionally in historical period costumes and theatrical in its presentation, in the main letting the music get on with the hard work. The chorus of 'Enfants du dieu de la lumière', for example, where the Mexican women seduce the Spanish troops with their charms, is done sitting down and is very static.

By way of contrast however the subsequent scene has seven ballets. Traditionally in a modern revival of a work like this, these would likely be cut, as they often slow down the drama. Director Cecilia Legorio however doesn't take the easy option and recognises that the ballet scenes are key to the work. In this sequence the different music composed for each of the sections serves to emphasise the difference and disparity between the opposing forces. The women of the Mexican tribes are freer and closer to nature but somehow heathen and dangerously unholy with their human sacrifices. while the marching of European conquistadors, trampling underfoot, are masters of their own fate, guided by lust for power, gold and conquest, a machine that marches onward, destroying whatever stands in its way. It's a little reductive but it's meant to be, and musically at least Spontini's expression comes into its element in these scenes, creating a huge sound with large orchestral forces.

If it seems somewhat heavy-handed, it needs to be borne in mind that Spontini wrote Fernand Cortez as a commission for Napoleon who in 1808 was waging a campaign against Spain. In order to counteract this propaganda somewhat, the director adds a little of a framing device at the beginning and end of each act. It's nothing too elaborate, just extracts from the diary of Moralez, one of Cortez's officers, but it helps put into context the rationale behind those who follow Cortez on his conquest, and it's doubtless the same rationale that led to the support of Napoleon in France. That provides a necessary sense of reflection on the work, and it's notable that after fall of Napoleon, Spontini himself reworked elements of the opera in 1817 to put a different perspective on it, but work here is as close to the original performed 1809 Paris version as possible, and the first performance of it in modern times.

After the impressive set up of Act I, Act II and III hold little in the way of surprises or deviation from what we expect to see in most Conquistador operas (see Graun's Montezuma, Gomes' Lo Schiavo or Verdi's Alzira), where family concerns and romance mix with captures and hostage swaps, leading to threats of human sacrifice and offers of self-sacrifice. Spontini enlivens the conventional developments with choruses, dances, marches and a lovely unaccompanied harmonised trio from Alvaro and his two companion prisoners. Cecilia Legorio takes full advantage of the opportunities in the music however and the concluding ballets to show what might not always be evident in the work, hinting that behind the glorious image of conquest, subjugation of the savages and bringing of civilisation, there lies a darker truth and reality.

The quality of the singing is excellent in this 2019 Florence production. Dario Schmunck is solid, authoritative and impressive as Cortez. Alexia Voulgaridou has a challenging vocal line and holds her own against Schmunck, although she is pushed to her limits in more ways than one in the singing and drama of Act II. There's notable singing too from Luca Lombardo as Amazily's brother Telasco. If the family torn apart by war is conventional in many ways, the experience of Amazily, Telasco and their mother is essential to the humanising of the story beyond the typical intrigues of plot and the performers bring this out do this well. There are no weaknesses elsewhere in the singing, David Ferri Durà as Alvaro leads the beautiful trio 'Créateur de ce nouveau monde' and André Courville cuts an imposing figure as an Aztec High Priest.

Instead of the Blu-ray I picked up Dynamic's 2-DVD edition of Fernand Cortez by mistake but the presentation is excellent, the NTSC standard definition image clear, colourful and reasonably detailed. The DVD still has an uncompressed LPCM stereo track in addition to the Dolby Digital 5.1 surround track and the sound mixing on both is excellent, exhibiting a beautiful warm orchestral sound that shows the quality and detail of the composition and the performance. On the DVD are interviews with the conductor Jean-Luc Tingaud and director Cecilia Legorio. In the booklet there's a detailed tracklisting, a synopsis and good historical background info on Cortez and on the composition history of Spontini's opera.

Links: Maggio Musicale Fiorentino

Bellini - La Straniera

Vincenzo Bellini - La Straniera

Opernhaus Zürich, 2013

Fabio Luisi, Christof Loy, Edita Gruberova, Veronica Simeoni, Dario Schmunck,  Franco Vassallo, Benjamin Bernheim, Pavel Daniluk, Reinhard Mayr

Opernhaus Zürich - 2 July 2013

There's really only one reason for the existence of a work like La Straniera. Like most bel canto operas, it's a highly charged drama of limited plot credibility but it gives the lead soprano ample opportunity to demonstrate her singing abilities. There are occasionally other qualities to be found, and with Bellini the music is usually filled with glorious melodies that are a little more attuned to the dramatic content, which is fortunate since the plot of La Straniera needs all the assistance it can get. Fortunately, the production for the 2013 summer festival at the Zurich Opera House had one of the best teams imaginable to get the best out of the work with Fabio Luisi conducting, Christof Loy directing and Edita Gruberova singing the lead role of the mysterious stranger.

In terms of plot, well if you're a member of the chorus playing the townspeople, you're thinking would go along something like this. Who is that mysterious stranger seen moping around town, dressed in black? We've always known she's up to no good and now we have something on her. She's been seen as a threat to the forthcoming marriage of Arturo to Isoletta, and now she's only gone and actually killed Baron Valdeburgo. Let's put her to death! Oh, hold on - here's Arturo and he's claiming it was he who killed the baron. And now here's the baron and he says he's not dead after all. Well, she must still be guilty of something since she's keeping her identity secret. Can we still not just put her to death? Oh wait, she's the Queen! What!?

It takes a lot to make that kind of plot work. It goes without saying that you need a soprano of extraordinary ability to sing the role of Alaide, but you also need a strong singer who can also act and have sufficient personality of her own to lend to the role, and you need a director who can actually give them something to work with. You have all the necessary qualities in Edita Gruberova and Christof Loy. Having worked together in recent years on Donizetti's Roberto Devereux and Lucrezia Borgia to spectacular results, the prospect of them working together on Bellini's opera was to say the least mouthwatering, but not without a certain amount of trepidation as to whether they could pull it off again. Thankfully, after a few initial doubts, they did.

Loy's concept wasn't the clearest, but at least it wasn't one of the minimalist chairs and dinner jackets productions that he's been fond of recently. He could do that and make it work I suspect, but instead he aims for a fairly traditional period setting, with real costumes and backdrops and everything. There are a few quirks inevitably, most of them involving ropes. Is it because there's such a mournful pall of death hanging over the start of the opera? Isoletta concerned about the likelihood of her marriage tomorrow turning into a fiasco because of Arturo's love for 'la straniera'. Is Arturo's impossible situation likely to lead to him hanging himself? Or are the ropes representative of the townspeople, who are just puppets of the suspicious Osburgo? Or does it reflect their mood and their desire to string up the dark evil woman in their midst?

Whatever the purpose of the ropes, Loy nonetheless sets the mood well, contrasting the black mourning clothes and mysterious veil of the stranger with the wedding dress that Isoletta wears in preparation for her wedding. La Straniera's dramatic content turns on the question of whether we going to have a wedding or a wake, and that's well covered. Or a coronation. Bellini nearly gives the game away early on, Auturo having a vision of the mysterious woman wearing a crown and Loy has a little bit of fun by having Gruberova as Alaide walk on stage in the second act wearing her crown before realising that everyone is actually waiting for the bride and slipping off-stage again.

Setting the appropriate mood is one thing, but dramatic conviction is all important and Loy makes that work too. There's no standing around here. Every ounce of emotional charge to be found in the situation, in the score and in the singing is made to count. It's the singing which is paramount however and as in those previous cases of Loy working with Gruberova in the bel canto repertoire, every note and gesture is put in service of making what is a ludicrous plot actually feel like a matter of vast life-or-death importance.

There were a few early concerns over how long Edita Gruberova can continue to carry roles like this, but they too were soon completely banished. There were a few slight wobbles early on and her pitch wasn't quite there in her duet with Dario Schmunck, but when it came to delivering the coloratura in those frequent scenes of great emotional anguish, Gruberova was beyond reproach. I've heard the great Slovak soprano many times but never before live in the theatre, and her voice is simply remarkable. Without microphones and mixing involved, her voice just dominates everything with that distinct timbre that is clear and resonant. She not only carried the singing honours however, but - particularly in the hands of Christof Loy - her acting ability was just as impressive. From the moment she walks on the stage, she is carrying the weight of her character's background and status - regal and mournful - and expressing it in gesture and in every nuance of her vocal coloratura.  

La Straniera may to all intents and purposes be a one woman show, but the supporting elements built around the lead all need to be in place as well and the supporting cast were all very fine. Isoletta only appears at the beginning and the end of the work, but mezzo-soprano Veronica Simeoni ensured that her character's predicament contributed to the setting and made a strong impression. Dario Schmunck was a rather dishevelled-looking Arturo, but supplied all the fire that is necessary to charge the drama. Franco Vassallo's Valdeburgo was well received and rock solid, even if his diction wasn't always the clearest. Even with such reliable support, with Loy's strong dramatic focus and Fabio Luisi working it from the orchestra pit, it's still a challenge for anyone to make the ending of La Straniera work. An air of disbelief at the plot twists inevitably remains here, but just as much admiration for the attempt to carry it off. If Edita Gruberova can't quite do it then no-one can.