Giuseppe Verdi - La Forza del Destino
Royal Opera House, London - 2019
Antonio Pappano, Christof Loy, Anna Netrebko, Jonas Kaufmann, Ludovic Tézier, Ferruccio Furlanetto, Alessandro Corbelli, Veronica Simeoni, Robert Lloyd, Roberta Alexander, Michael Mofidian, Carlo Bosi
Royal Opera House Cinema Live - 2 April 2019
Recent experiences have shown me that there's no such thing as a Verdi failure; all of his works, even the earliest works like Alzira, have the potential to be much better than their reputation allows and there are ways also to overcome apparent weaknesses in plotting in those flawed later works like Simon Boccanegra. La Forza del Destino is one of those latter works where the traditional operatic mannerisms of the plot often obscures or weakens the more sophisticated musical arrangements that Verdi was starting to deliver and would later more fully achieve with librettos from Arrigo Boito. With Christof Loy directing, the Royal Opera House's production might not entirely make La Forza del Destino work as a stage drama, but it certainly shows the potential greatness in the work.
Whatever its weaknesses in plotting and structure there's no doubting the ambition Verdi shows in this work. There's not a lot you can do with the sprawling plot, but Loy's production shows that Verdi isn't really that concerned with sticking to the superficial arrangements and conventions of a by-the-numbers romantic melodrama, but is keen to look much deeper at people caught up in forces that are greater then themselves. La Forza del Destino is a work of competing forces, each of the characters carried through their lives by their response to a tragic incident in the past that consumes them and destroys any chance they might have of happiness in the future.
This appears to be really what Verdi wants to express, and yes perhaps it does come at the cost of credibility in plot progression. The central incident comes in the prologue with the death of the Marquis of Calatrava, killed in an unfortunate accident at the family home by Don Alvaro, the South American nobleman who was planning to elope with his daughter Leonora. In the chaos following the incident, Don Alvaro and Leonora are separated (chaos being one of those forces that play a major part in the opera, also bringing them together again), each believing the other dead, while Leonora's brother Don Carlo di Vargas thereafter makes it his life's duty to track down Alvaro and kill him.
The incident affects each of the three main protagonists in different ways, totally disrupting and determining the subsequent direction of their lives. Leonora is overcome with remorse and guilt, but still consumed by her love for Alvaro she decides to become a hermit and devote herself to the Virgin Mary (an icon that Loy shows during the overture as something that imprinted itself on her subconscious from a very early age). Alvaro pours his energy into the army and becomes a war hero, but fighting, drinking and women are still not enough to blot out the loss of Leonora and the crime of her father's death. Don Carlo is single-minded in his desire for revenge, turning to fortune tellers, hoping that they will give him some satisfaction that his efforts will be rewarded.
The plot that brings their lives back together in a dramatic conclusion is perhaps not so important as understanding these forces that drive them, all of them forces beyond their power to control. Fate, fortune, misfortune, destiny, war, religion, vengeance, oaths and curses; all these things sweep them through their lives, batter them from one shore to another with no safe haven. Primarily however there are three other inescapable forces that determine their destiny; love, family and a rush towards death. Religion too plays an important role in how both Leonora and Alvaro cling to it like a life-raft, hoping that submission to God will give their lives a purpose that has been lost. Loy brings this aspect out much clearer than any other production I've seen of this work, but he also brings out exceptionally well Verdi's scepticism of religion in the figures of Fra Melitone and Padre Guardiano.
La Forza is long and disjointed, covering a lifetime because it takes a lifetime to understand what has been important, what has driven that life, and it's difficult to compress all those competing and conflicting forces into a single dramatic storyline, even one that is three hours long. There have have been brave efforts at making La Forza work convincingly, but it certainly helps when you have a director like Christof Loy on board and - something that appears to be the one indispensable element to the potential success of any of Verdi's challenging works that might not have played so well in the past - a stellar cast as capable as the one assembled for this production at the Royal Opera House.
The visual representation is variable in Christof Loy productions and sometimes minimal with little but nominal adherence to libretto directions but there are two important things you can count on in a Loy project. You always get the full-length opera without cuts, which is rarer than you might think, and you get a deeper delving into the characterisation and themes that recognises that there is more to the musical arrangements than simply underscoring the surface drama. Where the drama tends to sprawl in La Forza del Destino, Loy ensures through some early scene setting that the impact of the killing of the Marquis of Calatrava remains to the forefront of what follows, the key event in the force of destiny that connects Leonora, Alvaro and Carlo.
La Forza is indeed present as a theme throughout the opera and Verdi dresses it in various musical guises. Antonio Pappano manages those wonderfully, attuned to character, allowing it to surge forward at those moments of great emotional turmoil in the lives of each of those who were present in the room where the Marquis died. Loy accordingly shows everything taking place within the same room, a room that none of them can escape, the walls war-torn and crumbling, opening up alcoves of escape in religion, but there is no way out for them. Projections blend the past with the present, the event replayed continuously, but there's more to Loy's involvement than having a hand in the set design.
To carry all this off with any kind of conviction the majority of the work has to be done by the singers, and you really need exceptional performers who can act and sing. Having Anna Netrebko, Jonas Kaufmann and Ludovic Tézier in the principal roles certainly gives this a lot more conviction than it otherwise might. It still remains a bit overwrought, but that's Verdi melodrama for you, and these guys can play it well. Tézier isn't the greatest actor, but he has gravitas and a beautiful soulful delivery and - for me personally - his interpretation of Carlo was the most interesting of the three, but perhaps that's just because we know what to expect from Kaufmann and Netrebko.
Since we expect utter professionalism and stunning delivery, that's not a complaint by any means, and if they do come across as a little too polished that's unavoidable for performers of this stature, and they certainly make up for it here with fully committed and heartfelt characterisation. Kaufmann characteristically launches himself full-force at the work, which is essentially the level that Verdi pitches Alvaro, but I'd like to see Kaufmann dial it down a little once in a while. Anna Netrebko is just Anna Netrebko, which is wonderful, but it's still Anna Netrebko. I wouldn't hold that against her though, as there are few who could sing the role of Leonora as well as this, embodying all the pain that Verdi inflicts on this character across a lifetime of suffering.
And as if that's not enough, the Royal Opera House have the luxury casting of Ferruccio Furlanetto and Alessandro Corbelli as Padre Guardiano and Fra Melitone, presenting two very different faces of the church and between them they open up the other dimensions in the work not often given as much attention. I'm sure that's partly because Loy is working from the full-length uncut version of La Forza del Destino, as these characters rarely feel so well developed, but I've no doubt it's got a lot to do with having great singers in these roles. Corbelli in particular is just marvellous. Keeping the work intact, Loy recognises that the power of La Forza del Destino is in its range and variety, with its choruses, its dancing and carnivals and he puts on a spectacular show. This is Verdi on the big scale, and the Royal Opera House give Loy the biggest canvas to work with.
Links: Royal Opera House
Giacomo Meyerbeer - L'Africaine
Teatro La Fenice, Venice - 2013
Emmanuel Villaume, Leo Muscato, Jessica Pratt, Veronica Simeoni, Gregory Kunde, Emanuele Giannino, Angelo Veccia, Luca dall’Amico, Davide Ruberti, Mattia Denti, Ruben Amoretti, Anna Bordignon
Medici Live Internet Streaming - November 2013
Just when it looked like no-one had the resources, the singers or the sheer nerve to take on another grand Meyerbeer opera and succeed in putting it across with any measure of success, along come La Fenice with L'Africaine. First performed posthumously in 1865, a year after Meyerbeer's death, La Fenice selected L'Africaine to mark that 150th anniversary, and it proves to be a good choice. Meyerbeer's final opera is a fascinating work that is not quite as richly elaborate in melodies and set-pieces as some of his more famous grand operas (Les Huguenots, Robert le Diable), but it retains the glamour in a number of key scenes even as it shows some influence of a more modern style elsewhere. By and large, with only some minor reservations, La Fenice mirror that approach in their new production and in the process prove that a Meyerbeer opera can still work on the modern stage on its own terms.
Although it has a title that makes little sense to anyone with even a rudimentary knowledge of geography - the African woman of the title actually comes from India or from an Indian island - the chief attraction of L'Africaine for audiences of the day was the foreign exoticism of its setting. For modern audiences, if the work is known at all, it's for how Meyerbeer expresses that exoticism in the opera's most famous aria, 'O Paradis', sung by Portuguese explorer Vasco de Gama on his arrival at the New World of his dreams. That revelation in Act IV doesn't come as easily as it seems and there are various trials and tribulations in the first three acts that make it all worthwhile, if not unexpectedly somewhat conventionally drawn out.
Inevitably this is mainly to incorporate romantic complications. Although she has been engaged to marry Don Pédro, Inès is in love with Vasco de Gama. Awaiting his return from sea, the news arrives that her beloved has died in a shipwreck, but this proves untrue. Vasco de Gama is actually the sole survivor of the crew, and has brought news of a new world out there somewhere. If given a ship, he promises the council an empire, "new climates, rich treasures, prosperity". As proof that this new land exists, he shows the council two examples of an unknown race of copper-skinned people, Sélika and Nélusko, who have been bought as slaves in Africa. As there is nothing written of such a land and the slaves refuse to divulge where their land lies, the council reject Vasco's claims and he is rather harshly anathemised and thrown into prison.
Languishing in his cell, poor Vasco de Gama also has woman trouble to contend with. Unknown to him, Sélika, who is actually the Queen of her island kingdom, is in love with the Portuguese sailor and furious when he mentions the name Inès in his sleep. For her part, Inès is jealous of the beautiful woman that de Gama has brought back with him, even though he denies that there could possibly be anything between them and even offers her Sélika and Nélusko as slaves. That obviously doesn't go down well with Sélika either. Of more pressing concern however is rescuing her beloved from prison, and the only way Inès can do that is by agreeing to marry Don Pédro.
Strange as it might seem since they rejected Vasco de Gama's claims, the ruling council have decided to let Don Pédro lead an expedition instead. Even stranger, the released Vasco de Gama has managed to get a ship, follows them and boards Don Pédro's ship only for it to be attacked by Indian pirates, the ship burnt and all the crew killed. The only survivors are Inès, her maid and Vasco de Gama, who has been found in chains in the depths of the captured ship. A prisoner still, Vasco de Gama is nonetheless enraptured with the discovery of the land of his dreams. His delight is short-lived however, as the Brahman priest commands that a foreigner cannot be allowed to live. Now crowned Queen again, Sélika, much to Nélusko's anger, saves him by claiming that she and the explorer are married. Discovering for the first time that she loves him de Gama rejoices in their union, but only until he discovers that his beloved Inès is not dead. Rejected again, Sélika inhales the poison of the Manchineel tree and is joined in death by her ever faithful Nélusko.
Already ahead of the fashionable French love for exoticism that would be expressed later in Delibes' similarly themed Lakmé, (although it can even be seen as far back as Rameau's Les Indes Galantes), Meyerbeer's L'Africaine revels in the colour, the richness of melody and the drama suggested by the romance and the danger of the Asian setting. Surprisingly however, although it is a 5-Act grand opera, there is little of the extravagance of melody, airs and ballets in set-piece numbers that usually characterise the genre of which Meyerbeer was the master. All those elements are in place of course but to a lesser degree here, with only one Grand Air, a short ballet in Act IV and a couple of set-piece spectacles - one of the boarding of the ship and the other of splendour of the New World paradise. Showing perhaps some Wagnerian or Germanic influence, there is more through composition in this Meyerbeer work, less stop-starting for arias, and some cutting back on repetition.
Emmanuel Villaume presents a thoughtful account of the score here with the orchestra of La Fenice. Running to three-and-a-quarter hours there are evidently trims applied, but as they are mostly towards the end of the work they seem to be made out of consideration for the performers rather than really moving the drama forward. There's nothing substantial missing from the first three acts. The first ensemble of Act II is cut, but the all-important closing ensemble is there. Act III opens with the sailor's prayer, but that seems more logical than opening the act at sea with a female chorus. There are a greater number of the small trims in Act IV and there's a major cut in the removal of the confrontation between Inès and Sélika at the start of Act V, but in both cases it tightens the focus of the drama on the highlights of these acts.
Leo Muscato's stage direction and basic period setting strips the presentation for La Fenice back even further in a way that emphasises the dramatic element of the work without necessarily losing any of its musical colour. Those key scenes could certainly be a little more colourfully decorated - the New World Paradise shown for example as merely warm diffused light and some lightly floating blossom leaves, but reducing the excess works well enough in this case when you have the aria 'Pays merveilleux... O Paradis' to say all that needs to be said, particularly when it's given a fine rendition, as it is here by Gregory Kunde singing Vasco de Gama.
It's in this kind of casting then that La Fenice truly proves that it is possible to successfully stage a Meyerbeer opera. Clearly, despite weaknesses seen in this area in other productions, there actually are good Meyerbeer singers out there, and their lineage would seem to come from the more heavy dramatic Rossini operas. Gregory Kunde is certainly one of them. He handles the principal tenor role marvellously, with a strong, confident delivery and he has the stamina to maintain it right through to his Act IV Grand Aria. He makes his exit at this stage, but Sélika has to carry right through all five Acts while keeping enough in reserve to almost single-handedly deliver the whole of Act V, and Veronica Simeoni keeps the dramatic intensity there throughout. She seems to flag slightly with some pitch inconsistency at the start of Act IV, but only briefly, rallying through to a beautiful duet with Kunde and managing to bring about that essential conclusion with all the necessary feeling and impact.
The challenges of having the right type of voice to sing Meyerbeer are evident in the casting of Jessica Pratt for Inès. Pratt is a coloratura singer of immense range and ability, well-suited and even greatly impressive in those intense Rossini bel canto roles, but the dramatic force of Inès is a different challenge altogether. It's a relatively small role, cut back even further here, but the strain shows on the Australian soprano. She plays the part with considerable personality however and comes into the role well after a slightly shaky opening. The baritone roles of Nélusko and Don Pédro are handed well by Angelo Veccia and Luca dall’Amico.
La Fenice's 2013 production of Meyerbeer's L'Africaine can be viewed free for a limited period via internet streaming on the Medici web site. The work is performed in the original French without subtitles.
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.
