Verdi - Nabucco (Geneva, 2023)

Verdi - Nabucco

Grand Théâtre de Genève, 2023

Antonino Fogliani, Christiane Jatahy, Nicola Alaimo, Saioa Hernández, Riccardo Zanellato, Davide Giusti, Ena Pongrac, Giulia Bolcato, Omar Mancini, William Meinert

OperaVision - 17th June 2023

At my last count I have written reviews of 100 Verdi opera productions, probably more than necessary on La Traviata, Rigoletto and Aida, although I seem to see Don Carlos, Simon Boccanegra, Otello and Macbeth featuring more regularly now. Nabucco I've covered only once in the last 15 years (at Vienna in 2015), but it doesn't seem to be one quite as often performed these days. Which is surprising in some ways but - having watched this Geneva production - not surprising in others. It's surprising since it is 'pure opera' (which is a bit of a vague claim, but I'll try to clarify that), but also unsurprising in the way that it's hard to do anything with it that will allow it to connect with a modern opera audience - if that's not a contradiction with the assertion that it is pure opera. In any case, it strikes me that at least as far as the Brazilian filmmaker and director Christiane Jatahy handles it, the Geneva production of Nabucco comes across as little more than abstract 'pure opera'.

By pure opera, I of course mean classic Italian opera and Verdi is perhaps the greatest proponent of that form of opera, although claims could also be made for Rossini leading the way before him and Puccini taking it further after him. And in those early works at least, it's pure opera in as far as adherence to the conventions of the Italian opera style, where the tailoring of a familiar arrangement of numbers, arias, cabalettas, choruses were arguably more important - or at least as important - as any narrative coherence, message or personal style. Verdi of course had plenty of substance to say and frequently ran into trouble with the censors for his outspoken attacks on religion, politics and his stance on Italian independence, but the emphasis tends to sit more on the individual personal and familial conflicts within the greater scheme of the abuse of power. You can see this in Aida, La Forza del destino, Simon Boccanegra, I due Foscari and many others. It can also be seen in the shift of emphasis in his Shakespearean adaptations, and even the ambitious Don Carlos doesn't quite overcome those challenges of striking the right balance.

It's a format nonetheless that clearly inspired Verdi and gave the composer great material to work with, even when the plot development, weak libretti and inadequate character development forced to meet the conventions of grand opera numbers and expectations of a conservative opera audience didn't allow for any deep exploration of the human experience. Only latterly in his career would Verdi find strong librettists like Arrigo Boito and be presented with material that could measure up to the quality of his musical talent. Nabucco belongs to the power and passion of his early works, never quite satisfying, never really giving the audience much of a challenge. There is certainly plenty for the composer to get his teeth into however in a charged dramatic situation, but it's a lot of sound and fury, signifying not very much. 'Va, pensiero' notwithstanding.

Having failed to find any enthusiasm to put myself through a streamed viewing of Aida at the Bavarian State Opera, abandoning it after 'Celeste Aida' (never a favourite Verdi opera), I thought it might be better watching a Verdi opera I was less familiar with. The Geneva production of Nabucco up there on the OperaVision site seemed ideal, and even though I've only watched the opera once in the last 15 years, I was sure I could follow it without needing to read the synopsis. It's an early Verdi opera after all - written in 1841, only his third opera - and surely not too difficult to follow, particularly as it looked like this production has no intention of being restricted to a Biblical setting. I was however a little bit lost in the opening scenes, but fully enjoying the performance and presentation for the impact alone. This is what I consider to be pure Verdi opera; a lot of highly charged scenes with expression of high romantic melodrama in a setting of religious, political or national conflict. Without really knowing what is at stake, it's enough just to see how the main characters express their struggle to put across the power of the work.

And in some respects that is largely all that the Geneva production does. Avoiding the Biblical Nebuchadnezzar period, it's the kind of production style I personally enjoy; an abstract and timeless spectacle, finding a fairly unique way of presenting a work, not trying too hard to make a statement. It's early Verdi on fire, it's Nabucco and that's enough, a blockbuster writ large for the big screen. The stage production makes use of a camera for live projection of close-ups, a mirror hangs over the proceedings and a shallow pool of water with spotlights permit filmed footage and other special effects. A large cloth robe is draped over the stage that Abigaille will wrap around her in dramatic and regal fashion. The charged situation spills over from the stage, with chorus members arising out of the audience in the stalls, enveloping the theatre in the full Verdi.

All this is very impressively supported by musical direction of the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande under Antonino Fogliani, who captures the straightforward force of the work, but also its dramatic precision. This is an opera and a production to just give yourself over to, which is often what you have to do with Verdi and the rewards can be great. The musical qualities however shouldn't be underestimated, nor the challenges of the singing roles. When you have the right kind of singers who have strength, force and precision, as well as the ability to emotionally engage with these highly charged arias and scenes, the impact is like nothing else. Nabucco offers many such opportunities, and the are well taken. For the Verdian who has tired of the overplayed main three (La Traviata, Aida, Rigoletto), Nabucco (and Macbeth) offer new life for those who just want to experience the classicism of Italian opera in its purest form.

Maybe it's just lazy to say that the production offers nothing more than this; there has clearly been great effort put into every element, from the set design to the orchestration, casting and the singing. After watching the stream, I went back and checked the synopsis, read some background information, listened to the director's presentation and reconsidered the production in that light, but it didn't enlighten or improve my opinion of what I had seen. I enjoyed this purely as a - for me - not-so-familiar Verdi opera given a thoroughly skilled and entertaining performance and presentation. The nature of the modern production in everyday dress allows others to see contemporary application of the themes brought out by this work if they so want to, but you are not obliged to do so.

That's the nature of opera. It's not just notes on a page, it only lives in the moment it is performed, and a modern audience with greater familiarity of the world of opera and history in the following almost 200 years will have an entirely different response to a work like Nabucco than the audience who first saw it performed. Each individual will also respond to an opera differently, speaking to them in different ways. In fact, often it's more successful when a production allows room for personal identification and connection, rather than imposing a strict idea or over-worked concept. Verdi's full-blooded musical scores for the subjects in his early operas often go for the heart rather than for the head, but dealing with basic human emotions and struggles, they are just as capable of touching as deeply with as the grander concepts and philosophical pursuits in Wagner's operas.

Rather than impose a reading beyond the idea of an oppressed people in the abstract, Christiane Jatahy's cinematic techniques served at least to highlight the impassioned performances of the cast. I particularly liked the character that Saioa Hernández brought to Abigaille, with a performance that could pin you to your seat, fully living up to the challenging role Verdi had composed for Giuseppina Strepponi. Having seen her singing impressively in the otherwise weak Verdi opera Attila, this comes as no surprise. There were solid performances for the reliable Italian Verdian singers Nicola Alaimo as Nabucco and Riccardo Zanellato as Zaccaria. Ena Pongrac made a fine impression as Fenena, and Davide Giusti also delivered with the requisite charged singing performance. An excellent cast all-round and, of course, the all-important chorus impressed with their contribution to this work. 

It was conducted well by Antonino Fogliani, who also composed a brief closing intermezzo before a final repeat acapella version of 'Va, pensiero' from the chorus placed all around the Grand Théâtre de Genève. Perhaps they felt the opera lacked the right kind of impact at the finale - and certainly the final act doesn't measure up to the first half of Nabucco - but if you want the audience to leave the with a lasting impression of what it means to live oppressed but unbowed, with Verdi's stirring composition ringing in your head, this serves very well indeed.

External links: Grand Théâtre de Genève, OperaVision

Verdi - Simon Boccanegra (Paris, 2018)

Giuseppe Verdi - Simon Boccanegra

L'Opéra National de Paris, 2018

Fabio Luisi, Calixto Bieito, Ludovic Tézier, Mika Kares, Maria Agresta, Francesco Demuro, Nicola Alaimo, Mikhail Timoshenko, Cyrille Lovighi, Virginia Leva-Poncet

Paris Opera Cinema Live - 13 December 2018

Verdi's mature period operas have always been problematic, their dramatic plot lines never quite keeping up with the growing maturity and sophistication of the composer's musical writing or compromised by Verdi attempting to rework material to suit French grand opera needs. As far as Simon Boccanegra is concerned, it's another case of rewriting, but rather than revisiting an earlier work first performed in 1857 to suit a new audience 23 years later, Verdi seems to be working to his own musical imperative, drawing deeper on his own experiences of family struggles and his observations of human nature during the upheaval of the Italian Risorgimento.

As a consequence, Simon Boccanegra is quite unlike other Verdi works, seeped in a tone of deep sombre melancholy that only the darkest passages of I due Foscari and Don Carlos can come close to matching. Recognising the failings in Piave's original libretto, Verdi enlisted the services of Arrigo Boito, with whom he would craft his late masterpieces, and Boito does bring a greater poetic touch to the work and human feeling to the sentiments, but the themes remain essentially the same as those consistent throughout Verdi's operas - love versus duty and one's responsibility towards family versus the people and the nation as a whole.

The reworking of the material however leaves the problem of Simon Boccanegra consisting of a patchwork of scenes with leaps in time periods and gaps in the drama, and when staged it just never seems to flow or hold together despite the insistent tone and musical language employed by Verdi. And it really is music on another level, separated by a vast gulf from those early works. The youthful force and drive is still there, but the difference here is that it expresses internalised drama rather than underscoring melodramatic plot developments of war, vengeance, fate, padded out with popular laments, pleas to god, and drinking songs.

It's a little unfair to characterise Verdi in those terms, but it just illustrates how far Verdi's ambitions and ability have moved on from the standard template and from the necessity of writing to meet the expectations of an audience. Some of those problematic dramatic elements remain in Simon Boccanegra of course, and it seems unlikely that a director like Calixto Bieito would really want to or be able to make anything convincing out of them. Somehow however, without denying all the colour, drama, fury and sensitivity that makes up a Verdi opera somehow Bieito lays open Simon Boccanegra in his Paris Opera production in a way that somehow gets to the heart of it. It's an absolutely stunning experience.

Once you get rid of the period accoutrements and costumes of 14th century Genoa, and once you dispense with the distractions of the plot and the near impossibility of making it seem credible, there's room to look for the deeper sentiments at the heart of Simon Boccanegra. Susanne Gschwender's set designs, the stage stripped of everything but the huge skeleton of the hull of a ship that revolves to show us what would appear to be a representation of the mind of Simon Boccanegra, the Doge of Genoa. Seen lying prone on the floor, a position he also takes having been poisoned in Act II, it's tempting to see the fractured narrative and its strange outpourings of emotion and grief as that of a fevered mind of a former corsair viewing it in a heightened state.

And that works well for a narrative as fractured as Simon Boccanegra. Bieito is then able to introduce a vital element that is usually absent from the dramatic presentation of the work but which is ever-present in Verdi's music; Maria. The association of news of the death of Maria at the very moment that he is proclaimed Doge creates a fusion that haunts Boccanegra. It doesn't just cause problems with Maria's father that lead to political plotting and family feuds, but - along with the disappearance of Simon and Maria's daughter - it's also something that has a deep personal impact on him, a melancholic yearning associated with his office that remains with him all his life.

That sentiment is what you can hear when you hear the music that Verdi has composed for the opera, and it's there from the very first note, Fabio Luisi drawing the darkness out of the detail and the silences in the score. It's appropriate then that director Calixto Bieito introduces Maria as a ghostly presence throughout the work, even showing her normally off-stage reported death by having her father drag the dying woman onto the stage to confront the husband who let her down. The image is powerful, and Boccanegra cannot shake it. She haunts the ship of Simon's mind as he himself lies dying, caught up in his own melancholic reflection, sadness and regret.

The risk is that this internalised perspective aligned with Verdi's music could push this further over into high melodrama, but by allowing nothing extraneous to distract - much as Verdi's complete stripping away of any dramatic underscoring or ornamentation does - Bieito's production is able to focus on the sheer depth of feeling a father has for his daughter, for his family, for the regrets that have allowed political events beyond his control impinge on their natural development. It's something that Verdi would very much want to express from a personal viewpoint and Bieito's production permits this much better than any version of Simon Boccanegra I've ever seen before.

There's no effort to clarify the complexity of the plot or the gaps in credibility that come with Simon being reunited with his lost daughter, but there is every ounce of emotion put into expressing such longing and such feelings. If there's one place where the value of Bieito's work as a director shows, it's in his directing of the performers to make all those sentiments come to life. There's no opera theatrics here either in the mannerisms of the delivery of the singing; all of it comes from the heart, which might mean it's not quite naturalistic, but in the context of Verdi's music that is simply perfect, unadorned, unguarded, unredacted pure emotion.

As is ever the challenge with Verdi - even in those roles that aren't created purely to show off the abilities of the lead performers - is getting singers capable of handling the considerable vocal challenges that go along with the advances of characterisation in these later operas. If Maria Agresta couldn't always carry the fullness of sound that is needed, there aren't many who can meet the demands of the extraordinarily challenging range required for Amelia/Maria, but her performance was as intense and heartfelt as it needed to be. Ludovic Tézier continues to develop into one of the best Verdi baritones around and gave a commanding performance here, equally intense, equally heartfelt. When you add in the kind of delivery given by an outstanding Francesco Demuro as Gabriele Adorno and the contrast provided by Nicola Alaimo's Paolo, the results were truly shattering.

Links: Opéra National de Paris, Culturebox

Rossini - Guillaume Tell (Rossini Opera Festival, 2013 - Blu-ray)

Gioachino Rossini - Guillaume Tell

Rossini Opera Festival, Pesaro - 2013

Michele Mariotti, Graham Vick, Nicola Alaimo, Juan Diego Flórez, Marina Rebeka, Simon Orfilia, Amanda Forsythe, Luca Tittoto, Simone Alberghini, Allesandro Luciano, Celso Albelo, Wojtek Gierlach, Veronica Simeoni

Decca - Blu-ray

Rossini's final opera Guillaume Tell is a work of tremendous scale and ambition that even today still requires huge musical, singing and stage resources to do real justice to it. The blending of the Italian opera form that the composer had done so much to define is taken here to a new level with introduction of French opera traditions that practically invent the style of Grand Opera. For its production at Pesaro in 2013 the Rossini Opera Festival invited Graham Vick to take on the challenge of directing the work in a way that would retain its immense power and status, but at the same time present it in a new light. Inevitably with Vick, it becomes almost an entirely new opera.

It take a while to get your bearings here in the specially constructed stage at the Arena Adriatica in Pesaro for the 2013 Guillaume Tell, if you ever even get your bearings at all. You're not exactly in 14th century Switzerland, that's for sure. The opening scene in fact looks like it takes place on a sleek cruise liner, one where the divisions between the rich and the poor voyagers are nonetheless dressed like their counterparts on the Titanic. It at least marks a clear contrast between the Austrian aggressors of the original story and the oppressed people of Guillaume Tell's canton in Switzerland. Soldiers dressed in Austrian uniforms keep an eye on the natives, who look like they are cleaning the decks, while the nobles in their finery brush them aside. It's hard to relate to any of the specifics of the original setting.

The lack of specific location or period is somewhat unsettling. It could just as easily be a large temple, or a posh hotel with exquisite views of the surrounding Alps. Vick doesn't believe however that you can put nature up on the stage, so makes no attempt with the crudely painted backdrops to suggest anything naturalistic. As the clear distinctions between the rich and the poor and the clenched fist on the drop curtain indicate, the director clearly wants to use the stage as a "blank canvas" to make a bold statement on power and oppression, freedom and revolution, one that is bigger than a mythological story of uncertain origin. It's also an approach that corresponds with Rossini's impressive, almost Wagnerian musical efforts to tie mythology to larger questions of nationalism and identity.

Vick's modern Bayreuth-like stylisations might seem out of place in Rossini, but conductor Michele Mariotti also seems to recognise the pre-Wagnerian force and dynamic that is there in the score as well. Act I plays out almost like Der fliegende Holländer, and heard this way, you can really get a sense of how far mature Rossini has come from the bel canto and opera seria constructions/constrictions of his earlier works. There's still a danger in this work of overplaying and being drawn into heavy-handed and obscure symbolism that is out of place with the real intent of the piece. Vick's approach here looks similar to his War and Peace for the Mariinsky, but as Act II of Guillaume Tell here becomes a "workers of the world unite" against slavery and oppression, you have doubts that it's enough to just reductively and abstractly treat the issues here are nothing more than a class struggle.

By Act III however, Vick's sinister imagery starts to really sink into your bones and show how it supports those bigger questions. Arnold and Mathilde's love for each other and the sacrifices they have to make must be more than just a romantic interlude added for variety and convention. Vick's production shows that it relates to wider social issues, to family, to national pride, and even to grander questions of what life means. Act III of course also brings up such matters in a way that - as seen by the recent controversial Covent Garden production - are difficult to handle effectively without overstating or diminishing the intent. There's no rape scene, but the rich Gessler's humiliation of the 'poor' in Vick's production still has an edge of sexual abuse and humiliation that seems to strike the balance somewhat better.

It's an important point to make because it's the key moment where the occupying forces overstep the mark. Tell's defiance and his feat of skill as a bowman further undermines Gessler's credibility and the people start to believe in themselves. Vick's production, as strange and abstract as it often is, never descends into absurdity but remains connected to those very real and significant human emotions, and that makes all the difference. Of equal importance to keeping the potentially overblown drama meaningful is Michele Mariotti's fantastic conducting and the outstanding performance of the orchestra that captures all the detail and sophistication of Rossini's score, driving it forward with tremendous energy.

No less challenging in Guillaume Tell is finding the right singers for a range of challenging roles. Arguably the role of Arnold Melchtal is the most difficult role to cast, and it's a challenge even for as consummate a Rossini tenor as Juan Diego Flórez. Flórez is traditionally better suited to light comedy Rossini, but there is a darkening in his voice occurring now that gives him the opportunity to approach the darker, more dramatic tenor roles. It's still a bit of a stretch, but Flórez does remarkably well. Next to that is Mathilde, and Marina Rebeka is nothing short of phenomenal here, her voice equally strong and projected out across the whole range, the high notes in particular ringing clear and firm. Rebeka pretty much carries the otherwise fairly static Act II, making it much more interesting that it might otherwise be.

There is however not a single weak link in the singing, which in this work is really something. Nicola Alaimo has good presence as Tell, not as strong in projection, but capable of navigating the switch between intimate sensitivity and pride spilling over into furious anger with real conviction. Amanda Forsythe shows how much a strong account of Jemmy can contribute to the work as a whole and Luca Tittoto gives us a fearsome Gessler who nonetheless has more personality than just being an evil villain. Personality is what this production really has going for it, Paul Brown's sets, Vick's direction, a uniformly strong cast and particularly Mariotti's conducting, really exploring the true worth of Guillaume Tell.

The 2013 Rossini Opera Festival production of Guillaume Tell is released on DVD and BD by Decca. The four-hour long work transfers well to the screen. It would seem that considerable work has been done to make the problematic acoustics of the basketball stadium of the Arena Adriatica more suitable for opera performance. The audio tracks here, in uncompressed PCM Stereo and DTS HD-Master Audio 5.1 are astonishingly good, and the bright stage production is filmed well. There is a short extra feature on the disc exploring Graham Vick's production and the challenges of putting it on stage. The Blu-ray is region-free, with subtitles in English, French, German and Korean.

Verdi - Luisa Miller (Liège, 2014 - Webcast)

Giuseppe Verdi - Luisa Miller

Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège, 2014

Massimo Zanetti, Jean-Claude Fall, Patrizia Ciofi, Gregory Kunde, Nicola Alaimo, Bálint Szabó, Luciano Montanaro, Alexise Yerna, Cristina Melis

Culturebox, Medici.tv - 4 December 2014

The subject of Luisa Miller is a typical one for Verdi, almost prototypical in fact in the manner in which Friedrich Schiller's original story has been reduced in scope from a more political and social intrigue down into a domestic drama that best suits Verdi's requirements. Luisa Miller is almost opera semiseria in nature, with its Tyrolean setting and overprotective fathers concerned about the reputations of their daughters, but there's nothing backward looking in Verdi's musical treatment of the subject. It's not perfect, but Luisa Miller is a work that is leading the way towards some of the composer's greatest achievements.

At the heart of Verdi's opera is indeed that familiar configuration of fathers who want the best for their children, and there are two of them here. Miller wants his pure and beautiful daughter Luisa to marry a man worthy of her and hopes she has chosen well in Carlo, but he can't help but worry about the stranger's unknown origins, and wishes she'd marry a stable, ambitious man like the Count's steward Wurm instead. For his part, Count Walter wants his son Rodolfo (who is indeed the same Carlo who is engaged to Luisa) to marry well into wealth and prestige, and has even arranged a suitable match for him with the Duchess Federica.

There's a further dark secret yet to be uncovered of course, but essentially the drama of Luisa Miller centres around this unfortunate complication of romantic interests and family responsibilities. True, everyone is acting out of consideration for what they believe are the best interests for themselves and the ones they love, but it only needs a despicable figure like Wurm (Wurm by name, worm by nature), and of course the aforementioned dark secret, to stir this up into the kind of boiling melodrama that Verdi does so well. Discovering through Wurm that Carlo is really the Count's son, Miller is convinced that he is just a heartless seducer whose intentions can't possibly be honourable. He's obviously familiar with opera semiseria works set in Tyrolean locations (Linda di Chamounix, Clari), where that would usually be the case.

That's still not much of a subject for a composer like Verdi who at this stage was approaching his best mature works in Rigoletto and La Traviata. Luisa Miller in many ways resembles and could almost be seen as a dry run for Rigoletto, where the Duke is indeed a seducer in disguise.  The closing scene in particular where Miller regrets his over-protectiveness while holding his dying daughter in his arms has strong echoes with the conclusion of Rigoletto, and to be honest, his setting and scoring for this scene, as well as the dark moments leading up to it, are scarcely any less stirring than Verdi's arrangements for the more famous work.

Verdi's strengths as a composer are already in place on the family and domestic drama, but what works much better here than in some of Verdi's earlier works is how he integrates or makes use of the political side of the drama. The overt political references might have been dropped from Schiller's 'Kabale und Liebe', but with censorship always a problem that Verdi had to work around, the composer was able to cleverly find other ways to put real contemporary social and revolutionary sentiments into his work in a way that sets them apart from the ancient historical subjects of earlier works like Nabucco, Attila and Joan of Arc. In Rodolfo and Luisa's situation there is a struggle against social class prejudices and the injustice of a controlling patriarchy that ends up only causing division and suffering for all. Without needing to make explicit references, Verdi is nonetheless able to convey the full strength of feeling that lies behind these sentiments.

Pouring all those sentiments into a small family drama does admittedly risk turning the work into an overblown melodrama.  There's not quite the same scale or sensitivity of handling here in Luisa Miller that you will find in Verdi's mature works and particularly in later ones like Don Carlos and Aida where the characterisation is more nuanced, where the subjects of love, injustice and the abuse of authority are more fully integrated into the whole. Played right however, with an eye towards how Verdi gives voice to those small dramas writ large in the eyes of the people concerned, and bearing in mind where the composer is heading towards, Luisa Miller can be played effectively on the stage. The Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège are traditionally very strong at giving lesser-known and under-appreciated Verdi and Rossini sympathetic productions that play to the strengths in such works, and their Luisa Miller is no exception.

The key to the success of this production is in the casting. There are some notable names in the main roles - Patrizia Ciofi, Gregory Kunde and Nicola Alaimo - but the secondary roles are also marvellously played and sung. While the principals evidently have important parts to play, there's a recognition that some sympathy towards the fathers Count Walter and Miller, and a little understanding of their position, gives the drama a little more conviction. Both fathers are well-meaning, convinced that nothing good will come of their offspring's scorn for their wisdom. This is the conflict that drives Luisa Miller, and it helps if you have singers who can bring that out. You can see that Luciano Montanaro's Count is motivated by love for his son, while Nicola Alaimo's light, lyrical delivery has all the necessary warmth and feeling for his daughter, particularly in the critical closing scene.

Wurm is basically a cartoon villain and doesn't need to have the same consideration applied, but Bálint Szabó's performance is nicely understated and supportive of the overall tone of the production, never letting it slip over into caricature. Again, smaller details count as well for the Duchess and Cristina Melis gives a well-measured performance that makes Federica's transition from seductiveness to the bitterness of a woman scorned seem perfectly natural. And what a great Verdi singer Gregory Kunde proves to be as Rodolfo. It's rare to get the right mix of sheer passion balanced with perfect control of the technical requirements for such a role, but Kunde has all that and the acting ability to bring them together to really make you care about what happens. Ciofi's performance as Luisa is also heartfelt, although as I've found before, her voice is a little too light to carry the lower end weight of such an intensely dramatic role.

Musically, Massimo Zanetti's conducting pitches the work perfectly in terms of its dramatic and its emotional content. Every scene carries the necessary impact. Jean-Claude Fall's stage direction and the sets emphasise the divisions well, the bright open blue skies and Tyrolean woodland exteriors contrasted with the dark rooms of the Count's mansion (a hydraulic system very smoothly and cleverly flipping over from one scene to the next). There's no big concept here, the period aiming for modern without stretching beyond the requirements of the libretto. Guns are used instead of swords, but this doesn't present much of an issue, and with pistols brandished in those dark interiors, it even gives a tense Godfather-like feel to the work which is not out of place. It also helps deliver a powerful conclusion which recognises the importance of Verdi ending on a note of high drama.

Links: Culturebox, Medici.tv, Opéra Royal de Wallonie

Pergolesi - Lo frate 'nnamorato

Giovanni Battista Pergolesi - Lo frate 'nnamorato

Teatro G.B Pergolesi, Jesi - 2011

Fabio Biondi, Willy Landin, Nicola Alaimo, Elena Belfiore, Patrizia Biccirè, Jurgita Adamonyte, Barbara di Castri, David Alegret, Laura Cherici, Rosa Bove, Filippo Morace

Arthaus Musik - Blu-ray

It's remarkable.  Up until only a year or two ago, Pergolesi's reputation rested mainly on a few important sacred compositions (notably his Stabat Mater) and a few comic opera works that were perhaps more famous for the historical significance than for their musical qualities.  Now, thanks to the work of the Pergolesi-Spontini Foundation and the release of all his operas on DVD (only his earliest religious drama Le conversione e morte di S. Guglielmo has yet to be released), we have a much more complete picture of a composer who tragically died in 1736 at the age of only 26.  It's been something of a revelation.

The two most famous Pergolesi operas prior to these new editions of his other work - La Serva Padrona and Lo frate 'nnamorato - now actually prove to be among the lesser of Pergolesi's compositions when compared to his achievements in the opera seria style (particularly his incomparable version of L'Olimpiade).  The place of these two works in opera history however is still assured and significant on account of the part they played in the Querelle des buffons, with the Italian opera buffa style moving away from the rigid formalism of royal entertainments on classical themes.  Dealing with subjects relating to common people, they can undoubtedly be seen to have had an important influence on Mozart in this respect.  Written in the Neapolitan dialect, the 'commedia per musica' Lo frate 'nnamorato has an even more down-to-earth quality and a more complex arrangement than the Intermezzo origins and the domestic revolutionary sentiments of La Serva Padrona.

The plot of Lo frate 'nnamorato - which is one of Pergolesi's earliest works - now seems quite typical of the genre that he helped create.  There's a complicated web of romantic entanglements where everyone is in love with someone who doesn't love them, a situation that would likely end in unhappiness for all concerned were it not for some late revelations about lost relatives, secret identities and unexplained mysterious backgrounds.  The social context however doesn't appear to be particularly significant - the marriages being arranged are more for convenience than for gaining of social status.  The primary mover, for example, is an elderly gentleman, Marcaniello who hopes to marry one of his friend Carlo's nieces Nina along with his son Don Pietro marrying the other niece Nena, in exchange for a match being made for Carlo with his own daughter Luggrezia.  Unfortunately Luggrezia is in love with Ascanio, so that messes up the arrangement somewhat, particularly since Ascanio is more drawn to Carlo's nieces.

The significance of Lo frate 'nnamorato of course is that this complicated set of affairs is played not for the sentiments of melancholy and despair over betrayal and unrequited love, but for the humour implicit in the situation.  Little of that however comes from the main characters, although Don Pietro is certainly a bit of a joker who likes to flirt with the maids and tries certain unconventional methods of romantic persuasion while the others just seem to prefer bemoaning the lot that fate has drawn for them.  It's actually the maids Vanella and Cardella however who are the real heart of the work - down-to-earth, a little more realistic about life, taking no nonsense from Don Pietro or indeed any of the other men and masters, two "serva padronas" irreverently making fun of their self-indulgence, false hopes, illusions and self-deceptions.

Without the seemingly minor contributions of Vanella and Cardella, Lo frate 'nnamorato would indeed be a rather conventional account of characters in the throes of despair over the trials of unrequited love, but the work also gains from Pergolesi's musical arrangements, his inventive comic writing and the earthy character of the libretto's Neapolitan dialect.  That's given a fine account here in the 2011 production at Jesi by Fabio Biondi leading his Europa Galante ensemble on violin.  It's a small ensemble of about 12 musicians, but as such the precision playing is all the more evident, as is the inherent warmth and lyricism within the score itself.  It's a beautiful performance of the work that, unfortunately, isn't entirely matched by the production itself or the singing, which often feels rather lacking in life.

The singing on all the Pergolesi performances from Jesi so far has been of an exceptional standard, but their Lo frate 'nnamorato isn't the strongest.  The problem could be that there are quite a number of demanding roles to fill here that require strong singers experienced and capable enough to handle the lyrical coloratura, and that's a bit lacking in some places.  The young cast however are all good, the voices fresh, lyrical and distinctive, particularly in the roles where it counts.  Patrizia Biccirè's Nena is one of the best performers here and Elena Belfiore - the mezzo-soprano used for the Ascanio countertenor/castrato role - is also excellent.  The Act II trio between Ascanio, Nena and Nina ('Se 'l foco mio t' infiamma') is accordingly one of the highlights.

If the coloratura is tricky and shows up weaknesses in some of the singers, the staging itself isn't particularly helpful.  The sets for Willy Landin's production are attractive however and the updating of the period to what looks like the 1950s doesn't do the work any harm at all.  It's beautifully lit and coloured with warm sepias, oranges and browns, a provincial Italian village with gossipy neighbours and maids looking on and flirting with Don Pietro who arrives on the set on his moped.  The stage directions however, although they try to keep the singers involved in some occupation, don't really succeed in making it come to life.  The best performances then tend to be the ones then who manage to strike a good balance between the singing requirements and entering into the spirit of the work.  Fortunately, in that respect the maids Vanella and Cardella played by Laura Cherici and Rosa Bove are both excellent, keeping the work vital and entertaining to such an extent that it drags a little when they are not on the stage.

Arthaus provide another quality BD release for Lo frate 'nnamorato.  The image quality is superb, clear with warm colouration, and the audio tracks capture all the detail of the musical arrangements and the singing.  The disc is a BD50, compatible for all regions.  Subtitles are in Italian, English, German, French, Spanish and Korean.  There are no extra features other than Trailers for the other Arthaus Pergolesi titles and a booklet with an essay on the work.  There is no synopsis, but the plot is covered briefly in the essay and there is a full track listing that helps initially identify all the characters.