Showing posts with label Gaia Petrone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gaia Petrone. Show all posts

Tuesday, 14 July 2020

Landi - La Morte d'Orfeo (Amsterdam, 2018)

Stefano Landi - La Morte d'Orfeo

Dutch National Opera, 2018

Christophe Rousset, Pierre Audi, Cecilia Molinari, Renato Dolcini, Alexander Miminoshvili, Gaia Petrone, Rosina Fabius, Magdalena Pluta, Juan Francisco Gatell, Kacper Szelążek, Emiliano Gonzales Toro, Salvo Vitali

Naxos - Blu-ray


The myth of Orpheus has not only been the inspiration to some of the greatest works of opera ever written, it could even be said to have inspired the creation of opera itself. Certainly some of operas most important key works, namely Monteverdi's L'Orfeo (1607) and Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice (1774), are works that still carry every bit of their original power, beauty and meaning from several hundred years ago through to the present day. Every new production of these works seems to find endless inspiration in them and it's not difficult to see why since the story of Orpheus is about transforming life into art that lasts through the ages. The moral that there's a high price to be paid for the artist who pours his life into immortal works is however conveniently glossed over somewhat in these early opera versions of the myth. Not so in Stefano Landi's La Morte d'Orfeo.

Orpheus's journey to the Underworld to bring back his dead wife Eurydice is not the whole story, and there is certainly no happy ending of the kind that was imposed by dramatic convention on Gluck's opera, but rather there is more to be learned in the myth that makes its meaning even more tragic and illuminating. The fate of Orpheus is taken up from where Monteverdi left off in La Morte d'Orfeo composed in 1619 by Stefano Landi who, as a Papal composer, was nonetheless likewise adapting the story for his own audience. Orpheus does indeed pay a high price for his infractions against the order of the gods, and not just though his insistence on reviving the dead Eurydice, but for the sins of pride and artistic excess. For the sinning against the purity of women and the sacred bond of marriage, he is ripped apart by the women of the maenads.



Orpheus might have the power to charm the God and the spirits of the Underworld with his music, but there are other stronger forces at work on the artist and Orpheus is torn between the Apollonian and the Dionysian. Landi personifies that struggle in the first scene of La Morte d'Orfeo, and Pierre Audi directing this Dutch National Opera production (his last production after 30 years as artistic director there) depicts that simply and directly. Fate has decreed that Orpheus die on his birthday and Orpheus is shown as helpless against the coming of the dawn, Aurora, and the breezes that sidle up against him, waking him to the fate that Fate has in store for him. All of these forces have physical form and are personified, as also is Fury.

Orpheus however is oblivious to his fate, a demigod who perhaps even believes himself exempt from the fate of ordinary mortals. Follow the path of virtue, advises his father, beware of women and their wiles. "He who does not honour love is better off dead". When Orpheus slights Bacchus however, his followers, the maenads call for vengeance. There is something typically anti-women in Laudi's depiction of this situation for his Roman Catholic commissioners, but there are two ways of looking at this and Audi turns it around for the #MeToo age where it becomes a cautionary tale not for the benefit of men to beware of women leading them into sin, but that a reckoning will come for those who mistreat and abuse women.


Up to that point much of the opera is fairly dry, delivered mostly through early opera style recititative and choruses, with little in the way of arias. There's little that Pierre Audi can do to enliven the lack of conventional dramatic action. He keeps the direction simple and doesn't clutter the smaller scale stage of the Muziekgebouw theatre in Amsterdam, restricting expression to costumes of pale colours and blood red lighting for the drama. The design has a few of the familiar Audi aesthetics but nothing that distracts from the purpose of the work, an upside down flowering tree with blood red blooms the only real symbolism on the stage.



If there's a lack of expression in the dramatic action and expression, all the colour is there however in the characters and personification of the forces of nature, and that is very much brought out by Landi's musical composition and the beautiful textures and colours of the baroque instruments. It's assisted considerably in that respect by Christophe Rousset and Les Talens Lyriques interpreting the score. There's less of the usual rhythmic drive that Rousset brings to this kind of period music, but this is not music for dance as it would be in a French tragédie lyrique. As anyone who has heard William Christie's revelatory Caen production of Landi's Il Sant'Alessio will expect, this is much more in the realm of spiritual or religious music that Landi more frequently worked in.

The greatness of the work then only really becomes evident with the death of Orpheus. Incredibly the dramatic scene of him being ripped apart by the maenads takes place off-stage and is instead recounted vividly in the music and singing of Fileno, who tells Calliope, the mother of Orpheus, how he witnessed her son destroyed even as he tried to appease the furies with his music and singing. It's by far the longest scene in the opera, the centrepiece, the emotional heart of the work and it's particularly impressive here for the lyrical singing and heartfelt delivery of Renato Dolcini. That tone is maintained for the remainder of the work, with organ music piping in behind Orpheus's funeral lament. It truly elevates the work to a thing of great beauty.




The structure and arrangement of the drama is not conventional then, and it doesn't put Orpheus at the centre of the opera - he actually has a lesser role in a small cast that play multiple roles - but rather as the title of the opera makes evident, it puts the death of Orpheus at the centre. Even the idea of Orpheus having some consolation that he might be reunited in death with his lost love Eurydice is taken from him. Charon and Mercury have bad news for him on that score, as Eurydice has taken the waters of Lethe, the river of forgetfulness. If the artist is to live on it is through his legacy and Orpheus urged to drink the same waters, leave behind his earthly desires and become a star in the heavenly firmament.

The 2018 DNO production of Stefano Landi's La Morte d'Orfeo is released on Blu-ray and DVD by Naxos. It's a fine production and a good recording that really serves this beautiful rare work well, particularly on the High Definition Blu-ray release with its lossless High Resolution stereo and surround soundtracks. The DTS HD-Master Audio 5.1 surround in particular gives space to that beautiful open percussive sound of the period instruments. The booklet included contains a full tracklist, a brief synopsis and an informative and insightful commentary on the work by Pierre Audi, who clearly understands the intentions of the work and brings those across wonderfully in this production. The disc includes subtitles in Italian, English, German, French, Japanese and Korean.


Links: Dutch National Opera

Monday, 10 June 2013

Handel - Orlando

George Frideric Handel - Orlando

Theater an der Wien, Vienna - 2013

Rubén Dubrovsky, Stefania Panighini, Rupert Enticknap, Cigdem Soyarsian, Gaia Petrone, Anna Maria Sarra, Igor Bakan

Sonostream.tv Internet Streaming, 31 May 2013

There are limitations to what you can do theatrically with a work like Handel's Orlando, particularly in a small venue like the Theater an der Wien.  The work itself doesn't seem to present many opportunities for dramatic action, and even the arias often seem to be poetically allusive and darkly melancholic, full of characters wrapped up in their own torments of anger, jealousy and fear.  Presented here in Vienna at the Vienna Chamber Opera and a young ensemble of singers from the JET, the intricacies of Handel's musical writing and the powerful imagery of the libretto were however fully explored and brought to the fore.

Much of the strength of Handel's Orlando lies not so much within the conventional beauty of the melodies as in how they meet the expressive qualities of the setting for the libretto.  It's not just an opportunity to string together a series of interchangeable arias expressing deep but generic emotional turmoil - even Handel would often reuse and recycle his own work - but an integral work with strong consistent imagery, symbolism and themes.  Even as a magic opera, the intentions are not to produce stage craft and spectacle, but to explore the extremes of the human condition.  Those themes are fully recognised in the stage production - directed by Stefania Panighini with sets by Federica Parolini - which is minimally dressed, but fully integrated with the tone and the intentions of the work.


The areas that Orlando explores then are very dark ones indeed.  There are the familiar Baroque opera themes of love, betrayal and jealousy, with unfaithful lovers or unrequited sentiments.  In Orlando however those sentiments take a darker turn into madness as Orlando, a knight in the Crusades, reacts with violence to the discovery that Angelica, the Queen of Cathay, doesn't love him but Medoro.  He discovers that they are in the house of the shepherdess Dorinda, and burns the house down.  It is only through the intervention of the magician Zoroastro that the situation is resolved and Orlando's mind put at ease, allowing him to return to the holy wars.

There are numerous references that express the conflict within Orlando's mind, his soul and his spirit in terms of the divisions between nature and science, between peace and war.  They are not the standard references of tumultuous raging of the soul - allowing the composer to whip up musical storm effects - but to "tender flakes of falling snow melted in the sunny ray", to streams, trees, flowers, "feather'd choirs" and balmy gales in a setting of fountains and gardens conjured up by the magician Zorastro in an attempt to give Orlando respite from the violence of war and the deranged thoughts that torment him.  It's even on a tree that Orlando finds the entwined engraved names of Angelica and Medoro that tips him over into madness.


The stage set used for this production at the Chamber Opera of the Theater and der Wien then is a simple one that reflects the division that has been introduced between man and nature, an outline frame representing Dorinda's house that can be reconfigured to look like a greenhouse or a birdcage depending on the context, the house adorned with plants that grow out of the heads of busts.  Zoroastro's domain is also alluded to through objects that suggest a temple to magic, science, time and learning, with an anatomy model that straddles the themes of science and nature, particularly in relation to the spiritual nature of the human heart and mind.  In many ways this represents the essential conflict at the core of Orlando, between the soul in love and the soul in torment.

The purity and simplicity of the stage expression of the work is reflected in the musical performance of the Bach Consort Wien conducted by Rubén Dubrovsky, and in the fresh singing of the young performers from the JET.  Countertenor Rupert Enticknap is a sweet-voiced Orlando capable of great expression, if not quite reaching the extremes of the Paladin's condition.  Cigdem Soyarsian, a green-haired Angelica (all the performers had punky-coloured hairstyles), also sang the role well, delivering a particularly good 'Così giusta è questa speme'.  The other roles were also well presented, Anna Maria Sarra's Dorinda combining sweetness and melancholy in regard to Medoro and anguish defeat at the hands of Orlando.  Medoro's role in the opera was slightly trimmed here, but Gaia Petrone made a very good impression, and Igor Bakan was a solid Zoroastro.