Showing posts with label Gianluca Margheri. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gianluca Margheri. Show all posts

Sunday, 30 January 2022

Vivaldi - Bajazet (Dún Laoghaire, 2022)


Antonio Vivaldi - Bajazet

Irish National Opera, 2022

Peter Whelan, Adele Thomas, James Laing, Gianluca Margheri, Niamh O’Sullivan, Eric Jurenas, Claire Booth, Aoife Miskelly

The Pavilion Theatre, Dún Laoghaire - 29 January 2022

The fact that Vivaldi's 1735 opera Bajazet has made it through to us intact through the centuries feels like something of a miracle. That's obviously partly through chance but it's also partly through design. It's by chance that this opera has survived where many, including many by Vivaldi, have not, but it's also by the fact that Vivaldi created Bajazet as a kind of greatest hits, a pasticcio where he would create recitatives to string together famous arias by other composers and add a few of its own - so yes it's bound to be good. What is also great by design as far as claiming it to be something miraculous is that it communicates its brilliance through to today, and that is by design of the director, cast and orchestra of this Irish National Opera production.

Reading the synopsis beforehand for a refresher, even knowing how the plot of baroque operas usually play out and even having seen several productions of Handel's Tamerlano, I despaired of getting my head around the characters and the typically complicated struggle for power and love between each of them. Maybe it was just the long journey down to Dún Laoghaire. Surely there must be a simpler way of getting the plot and characterisation across? Well of course there is, and after abandoning taking in more than the events of Act I, I trusted that it would all become clear in the delivery in the performance. Making the complicated simple is no easy matter of course and it's down to how good the director and the cast are, and well, this was just thrillingly put across.

Baroque opera can be dry, with not much in the way of dramatic action. There are passages of recitative and a lot of arias with flowery metaphors that have little lyrical relation to the drama. Even more so in a pasticcio, where the arias have been lifted almost wholesale from other works and dropped into a new, usually generic, plot. That is true to some extent with Bajazet, including one aria where Idaspe sings of a boat in a storm at sea, despite their being no naval scene in the opera, although evidently you can take that as a metaphor for emotional turmoil. Writing his own linking recitative for Bajazet however, Vivaldi clearly manages to tie things together very well into a tense dramatic situation.

That however is still only as tense and dramatic as it is allowed to be. The underlying sentiments, rather than being just generic expressions of love, anger, revenge and despair need to be wholly and convincingly played without operatic or period mannerisms. Here Adele Thomas has clearly worked hard to ensure that the performances are robust and related realistically to the situation, with the added bonus that every singer here manages to bring individual life and personality to the characters. It's rare that you see the drama of a baroque opera enacted as if it really mattered.

Molly O'Cathain's impressive gold box set design is also robust and it needs to be because Bajazet and Tamerlano fairly bounce off the walls in aggression and there is much slamming and bursting open of side doors. No walk-on-walk-off scenes here. The other performers wisely give the two principal figures a wide berth and when they aren't able to get out of the way, they get caught up in some rough and tumble that is more than just boisterous. There is anger and violence here that is commensurate with the nature of the figures involved and the implications of the historical drama. It's a tense situation, life or death, and you can feel it. We know what Tamerlano's fate will be, but we can't be sure in this production that his will be the only death.

That's another element of danger and unpredictability that Adele Thomas has introduced into the already tense drama. Anyone familiar with Tamerlano or many similarly themed baroque operas like this can usually expect the insensitive, misguided, proud and cruel ruler to eventually come to his senses and resolve matters, at least as far as affairs of the heart are concerned. Not so here, which is fitting as this Tamerlano is particularly cruel and irredeemable. So, while Bajazet nobly sacrifices himself to be spared the humiliation of his daughter Asteria as is traditional, the lame Tamerlano also meets a just fate through a means that has been hinted at throughout but which also feels in keeping with the amount of pent up anger that has built up.

Where do you start with a cast like this who all have significant roles to play? Probably with the two roles that have the most impact in terms of drama and singing. Stalking the stage with menace James Laing made this Tamerlano really a figure to be feared, his countertenor only adding a sinister quality. He's the only person you could imagine capable of subduing this Bajazet and even then he must have employed some dirty tricks to do it, as Gianluca Margheri's muscular bass-baritone Bajazet was only matched by his physique, straining at the bonds like a rabid dog. He practically shook the walls with every fiery utterance. 

We didn't get to hear Claire Booth's Irene until the close of the first Act, but she more than made up for the late appearance with high-flown coloratura expressing her fury - and like Bajazet you could feel that very real fury of a woman scorned and hurt. Niamh O'Sullivan's Asteria was also an impressive ball of coiled anger, spitting imprecations against her faithless lover Andronico as much as against her captor Tamerlano. The conflicted and inconstant Andronico was brilliantly characterised and sung by countertenor Eric Jurenas, skulking and diving from the formidable forces, no match for any of the forces on the stage around him. Aoife Miskelly's Idaspe also had a vital role to play here dramatically and in the delivery of challenging arias. Vital also is the role of the ensemble of voices, the six creating a stunning array of complementary and contrasting timbres and voices. All close together on the stage too, playing off on another, even when they weren't singing, all adding to the hothouse atmosphere.

I had forgotten how powerful it can be to hear live baroque opera played on period instruments. I can't blame Covid entirely for this, although it certainly delayed this production to the extent that it was almost cancelled entirely and was only allowed to play to a full house this week with the lifting of most restrictions in Ireland, but it's just rare enough to get the opportunity to hear rare works like this close up. In fact my last time might indeed have been at the Pavilion in Dún Laoghaire in 2019 when Peter Whelan led the Irish Baroque Orchestra through Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice. Once again, they provided a thrilling and revelatory experience, Vivaldi's music (and that of others) just pinging around the hall with crystal clear precision and put to good dramatic use.

This is Irish National Opera doing what it does best, taking on a challenging and wide ranging repertoire. Whether working with familiar standards, new contemporary opera or reviving rare baroque repertoire, they are equally good at bringing opera to life. That's a team effort and when that combines in actual live performance that is ultimately what makes something like Bajazet miraculous, magic or whatever you want to call it. Just 'opera' says it all, I suppose. It's about finding a way to make notes on a page written centuries ago come back to life and this Bajazet makes it into the 21st century alive and kicking.

Wednesday, 6 May 2020

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