Verdi - Il Corsaro (Valencia, 2018)

Giuseppe Verdi - Il Corsaro


Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia, Valencia, 2018


Fabio Biondi, Nicola Raab, Michael Fabiano, Kristina Mkhitaryan, Oksana Dyka, Vito Priante, Evgeny Stavinsky


OperaVision - 8th April 2018


The quality of early Verdi operas is variable, even by the composers own admission, but some are certainly worth of occasional revival, even if it's just for curiosity value. A few - very few, maybe only one (Macbeth) - are worthy of being included more often as part of the familiar Verdi canon, others are crude and forgettable (Alzira, Attila), some are flawed but redeemable through a good production and an interesting interpretation (I Due Foscari, Stiffelio, Giovanna d'Arco, Luisa Miller). Il Corsaro probably belongs in the latter category, but its qualities can be enhanced with a good staging and exceptional singing and the 2018 Valencia production goes some way towards demonstrating and achieving that.


It's rare however that you can do anything redeemable with the staging of any early Verdi opera; which in the main consist of romantic melodramas in oppressive wartime situations that don't have much in the way of subtext, nuance or depth. The singing, particularly that of the lead soprano role, can also be extremely challenging far beyond the merits of the piece without really adding to the drama. That's all part of the Verdi DNA however that comes into fruition mid-career, and it can be fascinating to explore the hints already there of the greatness to come if you have a production good enough to tease them out.

The first good sign in the Valencia production is that there's a bit of imagination and style applied to the production design rather than literal slavishness to the libretto's locations. Instead of ship anchored at a Greek island where the chief corsair Corrado is languishing in exile and reduced to piracy, we find ourselves in Act I within the mind of a broken man, sitting at writing desk remembering better times or dreaming of taking part in further exploits. His wife Medora looks on in despair at his downfall and, alarmed at the flask of what may be laudanum he is imbibing, she slips it into her pocket.


Corrado however has other vices and is clearly not adverse to a pipe of opium. In his mind the Ottoman Empire still a threat, so in Act II the bold Byronic adventurer once more visits the exotic East of delights and dangers. There he visits a harem and attracts the attention of Gulnara, the favourite of the Pasha Seid. Seid and his warriors launch into a battle with the corsairs, putting the city and the harem to flame. Corrado rescues Gulnara from the conflagration and is captured while doing so, and earns the mercy of Seid. Until Seid becomes suspicious of Gulnara's feelings for this brave corsair...


There's no need to get to clever with the concept, but there's no need for literal realism either, as combined with Verdi's bombast, the Byronic hero's romantic adventures in the exotic East could seem a little bit over the top. Il Corsaro is tremendous fun, but not particularly memorable and hard for a modern audience to take seriously. Director Nicola Raab doesn't try to get too clever by imposing an unworkable concept on top of what is a fairly straightforward romantic adventure, and without betraying the original spirit of the work she finds a good way of making it a little more 'realistic' or relatable by playing it out as an opium-induced flight of imagination, which as it was originally written by Lord Byron it may well have been.


The production doesn't need a literal depiction that takes it all seriously and literally then. There's more than enough dynamic in the music and the contrasts and colours that lie between East and West, between Christian and Muslim, between men and women. Verdi of course depicts all that in grand brush strokes, all sword and flame, blood and thunder, gods and demons. There's nothing wishy-washy about early Verdi (or middle or late Verdi either, I suppose), and Fabio Biondi's conducting of the Orquestra de la Comunitat Valenciana emphasises the sheer brio with which Verdi attacks the material, where there is also at least some measure of sophistication in the melodies and romantic sentiments.

There's a similar contrast between imagination and reality in George Souglides's production design that shows this flitting between dreams of adventure and the sudden down-to-earth shifts of reality that seep in. Projections of battles and flames are thrown onto a screen that is torn down like a sheet of paper, emphasising that it's all the projection of a troubled mind, allowing it to be taken seriously but not literally. It's a good middle-way to approach early Verdi, giving us spectacle and entertainment and permitting all the spirit of the work to come through without having to look at it ironically or indulgently. That's probably about the best you can hope for in Il Corsaro. 


Well, that and some great singing, as that can make all the difference. The Valencia production gets off to a terrific start, the clever production design and the invigorating score matched by a committed Michael Fabiano in the role of Corrado and Kristina Mkhitaryan as his wife Medora. As he showed in Dmitri Tcherniakov's radical reworking of Carmen for Aix-en-Provence 2017, Fabiano isn't thrown by contradictions between characters who are seen to be role-playing and allows a touch of bewilderment creep into the heroic sincerity of the performance. Mkhitaryan is mightily impressive as Medora, showing a fullness of voice and a deep emotional expression. Medora however is not the principal soprano role, and it's Oksana Dyka who has to struggle with that challenge as Gulnara. Inevitably she is pushed and her pitch wavers occasionally, but it's a valiant effort. Vito Priante sings well but throwing pantomime villain poses he is unable to make much of the role of Seid.


The singing performances and the full-on musical performance under Fabio Biondi carry the work though the dramatic weaknesses of Act III. There's a long scene of Corrado refusing to accept Gulnara's help of escape ("Fly from your prison to freedom, my soul") by manfully accepting his fate only to eventually agree, but as Corrado puffs on his opium pipe, the production does well to try to associate his behaviour as being captive of his addiction or the affliction of his desires and fears. Medora is also saddled with more despairing sentiments that lead up to her suicide and Corrado following, but there's no denying that Verdi provides all the thrills and spills that lead up to this heroic-romantic conclusion, and Biondi hammers it home.


Links: Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia, OperaVision

Rossini - Semiramide (Nancy, 2017)

Gioachino Rossini - Semiramide

L’Opéra national de Lorraine, Nancy - 2017

Domingo Hindoyan, Nicola Raab, Salome Jicia, Franco Fagioli, Matthew Grills, Nahuel Di Pierro, Fabrizio Beggi, Inna Jeskova, Ju In Yoon

Culturebox - 11 May 2017

What a difference a voice makes. If you've watched more than one production of any opera, you'll already know that's a self-evident truth, but it isn't often you get the opportunity to compare two different productions of Rossini's Semiramide in close succession to see how it applies. Even a single viewing however is enough to realise why the work isn't put on too often; if you haven't got a singer of the calibre of Joyce DiDonato to sing the role of the Babylonian Queen - as in the recent Bayerische Staatsoper production - there's always the danger of Rossini's opera seria falling completely flat. The Opéra National de Lorraine however have some other ideas of their own about how to stage this difficult work.

The production of Semiramide at Nancy does indeed show what a difference a voice makes, but surprisingly, it's not where you might think. The Opéra National de Lorraine production actually has a very capable mezzo-soprano in the shape of Salome Jicia, who proves to be quite impressive in the role even if she doesn't have the extra spark that is needed to truly bring this work to life. The stage design and the direction in this production don't really have a great deal to contribute either in that respect, and it's doubtful that the production would have the necessary impact but for its casting of another role. Where this production takes its chances in its staging of Semiramide is in the casting of a countertenor for the role of Arsace: and obviously not just any countertenor, but Franco Fagioli.

Countertenors and contraltos or mezzo-sopranos can be interchangeable of course in many other works, but those are usually older baroque works where a female takes on the role originally written for a castrato, which for obvious reasons are no longer available to an opera house. In the case of Semiramide, the role of Arsace is a trouser role written for a contralto, so it is certainly rare and unusual (in a work that itself is rarely performed) to transpose the role over to a countertenor. The rationale for this I can only guess - perhaps Franco Fagioli was looking to extend his range into later repertoire? - but the results are fascinating and do change the whole dynamic and adjust the emphasis on where the heart of the work lies.

Whether it was done to find a new challenge for Fagioli or whether it was done purely for reasons of meeting the vocal requirements (superstar contraltos are thinner on the ground these days than countertenors I suspect), Fagioli does indeed make quite an impression. The Bayerische Arsace wasn't lacking the necessary qualities with Daniela Barcellona in the role, but with Franco Fagioli you have star quality and a voice that proves to be far more flexible to meet the very distinctive tessitura of the role. Fagioli is better placed to meet the considerable demands on the lower end of the register as well as navigating those tricky fluttering Rossinian sprints. His delivery of Arsace's arias is utterly rivetting to behold, his voice blending beautifully with the arrangements and in the Act II duets with Salome Jicia's Semiramide. The true effectiveness of his performance however is in how Arsace's role comes to dominate the proceedings.

The challenges of performing Semiramide convincingly go beyond merely being a star turn for the best singers of the day - although on that level alone it has to be admitted that it is a joy to hear performed as well as it is here. With Semiramide, Rossini was moving away from a style of opera that still had its roots in the baroque opera seria, and was developing into the form of Grand Opéra, so there are specific dramatic and theatrical requirements or conventions that are expected to be met in one way or another. Spectacle and entertainment are another factor, and on this level the Nancy production doesn't deliver quite as inventively as David Alden's recent Munich production.

The production doesn't set the opera in ancient Babylon but seems to settle for a period closer to the time of composition of the opera with - as a French opera production - an eye perhaps on the intrigue and downfall of the French royal court. It also establishes something of the play-within-a-play setting or semi-staged dress rehearsal for no particular reason that can be easily determined. A smaller stage is positioned to one side of the stage, with a rope pulley system and its own curtain. lowering Egyptian pillars with hieroglyphs as the queen acts out her declamations and announcements. The intrigues of Assur, Oroe and Idreno are carried out in the wings and develop on the stage, with a large mirror used to highlight when the characters reflect on what they see in front of them in the mirror and how it measures up to the image they have of themselves.

The direction of the acting is at least a little more naturalistic, leading to convincing characterisation without the old-fashioned operatic mannerisms that a work like Semiramide might attract. The musical arrangements under Domingo Hindoyan, a graduate of the Venezuelan musical education programme El Sistema, are a little bloodless, but it's hard to fault the performance for accuracy and pacing. Aside from the two main leads, the production also benefits from an excellent Assur in Nahuel Di Pierro. His voice carries force and authority, the singing clear and commanding, making Assur feel like a proper villain and not a caricature of one. The other roles are also very well sung and played with Fabrizio Beggi's Oroe seeming to be the manipulator here in a dual role that takes up the part of the Ghost of Nino. Matthew Grills also makes a good impression as Idreno, and Azema is sung well by Inna Jeskova although her role in the drama seems reduced here.

Links: L’Opéra national de Lorraine, Culturebox