Adriana Lecouvreur, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, November 2010

As I took my seat on the first night a young man said to his neighbour that this was better than Puccini. On the other hand I know of someone who walked out of the dress rehearsal at the first interval saying this was not opera. My opinion falls in between such strikingly different reactions.

Gheorghiu and Kaufmann

Covent Garden has not produced Adriana Lecouvreur since its first performances in 1904 and 1906, not long after the Milan premiere of 1902, so I’m delighted they have now put on such a fine production by David McVicar. Sets by Charles Edwards and costumes by Brigitte Reiffenstuel are complemented by Adam Silverman’s lighting, and the effect was excellent. Add to that two principal singers — Angela Gheorghiu and Jonas Kaufmann, both at the top of their game — who sang the same roles in concert at the Deutsche Oper Berlin last month, and we were all set for the best that this opera has to offer. Gheorghiu and Kaufmann were wonderful — she was dramatically terrific, exhibiting a lovely tone, and he sang like a god. They rose to the heights and parsed the quiet passages with superb control. Their duet towards the end of Act II was glorious, and anyone unfamiliar with opera would surely say, “This is opera”.

So much for the answer to one objection — but is it better than Puccini? I don’t think so. Puccini’s work was brilliantly theatrical, but one cannot say the same for this opera: political intrigue, mistaken identity, love triangles, jealousy, and those violets . . . oh, the violets that appear in Acts I and II, and again in deathly form in Act IV. If one of those ‘Konzept’ directors got hold of this, the flowers might be represented by a figment of the unconscious mind, but this is unlikely to happen because Adriana Lecouvreur is not an opera that attracts a multitude of different productions. I think the libretto cannot sustain an abstract production, but fortunately the music is better than the story. It’s pleasingly melodious, and from time to time it sounds as if it may really take off, but never quite does. That’s just the way it is, and no fault of Mark Elder who produced beautiful sounds and admirable tension from the orchestra. The audience were enormously enthusiastic about the singing, which helped create a buzz and must surely have helped inspire the performers.

Along with Gheorghiu and Kaufmann as Adriana and Maurizio, Alessandro Corbelli brought a wonderfully sympathetic dignity to the role of Michonnet the stage manager who loves Adriana, and acts almost as a surrogate father to her. Michaela Schuster sang beautifully in the part of the jealous Princess who sends Adriana the poisoned violets, and Maurizio Muraro sang strongly in the bass role of the Prince, with Bonaventura Bottone delightfully foppish as his servant the Abbé.

Michaela Schuster and Jonas Kaufmann

A wonderful production with superb singing and beautiful sounds from the orchestra. What more could one want? . . . Well, actually  a few cuts might not come amiss in Act III, which I found tedious. They already cut the Prince’s description of his work as an amateur chemist who has discovered a poisonous powder that induces delirium and death when inhaled, though this at least shows how the Princess gets hold of such a strange murder weapon. I would rather see the ballet cut — the music is hardly on the level of the Dance of the Hours, and it was choreographed deliberately as a mockery of bits of classical ballet, such as Ashton’s La Fille mal gardée, with its ribbon dance and cat’s cradle. In the end it was all about the singing, and I’d be glad to see the abandonment of anything that detracts from that.

Further performances are scheduled for November 22, 25, 27 and 30, and December 4, 7, 10, with Angeles Blancas Gulin taking over the role of Adriana on Nov. 25 and Dec. 10, and Olga Borodina taking over as the Princess on Nov. 30 and Dec. 4, 7, 10. For more details click here.

La Fille du Régiment, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, May 2010

To a lover of darkly dramatic operas such as Tristan, Tosca, and Trovatore, this Donizetti work might seem rather trivial, but of its type it’s brilliant, and Natalie Dessay is unsurpassable in the role of Marie. She’s vivacious, and utterly believable, as is Juan Diego Flórez in the role of Tonio. His rendering of the great tenor aria Ah! mes amis in Act I, with all its high Cs, was greeted with huge applause. These two formed a perfect match, brilliantly supported by the rest of the cast, who were all entirely at home in their roles. Alessandro Corbelli was a wonderful Sulpice, sergeant of the regiment and surrogate father to Marie. Ann Murray gave a finely nuanced portrayal of the Marquise of Berkenfeld, with Donald Maxwell perfectly fitting the role of her Major-Domo. And Dawn French in the speaking role of the Duchess of Crackentorp had excellent comic timing and stage presence.

Royal Opera photo by Bill Cooper

The performers could hardly be better, but it’s their interactions within Laurent Pelly’s wonderful production that makes these performances work so well. While the staging of Act I is cleverly done on a map of the area in Switzerland where this opera supposedly takes place, Act II is the pièce de résistance of the production. It starts with four maids cleaning, their movements choreographed in time to the music, and continues with one small nugget of comedy after another. For example it’s a rare opera production that has one singer playing a piano accompaniment for another, rather than miming what a pianist in the orchestra is playing, but that is exactly what Ann Murray did for Natalie Dessay, and it was followed by Ms. Dessay and Mr. Corbelli having a go on the piano themselves. The entrance of the wedding guests was wittily done, and the use of different languages was a delight. While the opera was performed in French, Dawn French herself occasionally made sharp comments in English, translated by French surtitles — a lovely touch. And when push came to shove and the French soldiers ousted the Major-Domo from the room, he burst into German!

Then to top it all there was the beautiful musical direction of Bruno Campanella. His conducting had a rhythmic energy that received a spontaneous round of applause immediately after the overture, and kept things moving throughout the opera. This was the same cast I saw three years ago — except that Ann Murray has replaced Felicity Palmer — and it’s a cast that has to be seen. Any young lover of opera should visit these performances so that in fifty years’ time they can tell their grandchildren they once saw Natalie Dessay and Juan Diego Flórez in the roles of Marie and Tonio — a pairing that will be difficult to beat for the rest of their lives.

Student standby tickets are sometimes available, and performances continue until June 3.

Il Turco in Italia, Royal Opera, April 2010

Rossini was just 22 when he composed this delightful opera, following his great success with Tancredi and L’Italiana in Algeri when he was 20 and 21. The libretto is brilliant — the work of Felice Romani, arguably the greatest Italian librettist of his day. His texts came slightly later than those of Lorenzo da Ponte who wrote the librettos for three of Mozart’s greatest operas, including Cosi fan tutti which, like Turco, features an older man who is planning the whole story. Where Cosi has Don Alfonso, Turco has a poet and opera librettist, Don Prosdocimo, portrayed here by a charming Italian named Thomas Allen, the same name as a well-known English opera singer — perhaps they were the same person. They certainly looked the same, but the Italian was so fluent and natural . . . words fail me — he was wonderful. Added to that we had the superbly comic Alessandro Corbelli as Don Geronio, a cuckold whose younger wife, the flighty and sexy Fiorilla was delightfully played by Aleksandra Kurzak. She looked a real temptress with her mischievous manner and gorgeous dresses. No wonder she had a lover, a young fellow called Don Narciso, very ably sung by Colin Lee. But as soon as the very handsome Ildebrando d’Arcangelo landed in Italy as Selim the Turk, she went for him, and he for her. After a brief acquaintance they immediately go off to her husband’s house and jump into bed together, just below the picture of an erupting volcano.

This brings me to the sparkling production by Moshe Leiser and Patrice Courier with colourful sets by Christian Fenouillat, lit by Christophe Forey, and 1960s costumes by Agostino Cavalca. It’s La dolce vita, and at one point the Turk, Don Geronio and Don Narciso arrive on stage by taxi, Fiat Cinquecento, and motor scooter. Don Narciso sported an Elvis quiff of hair and a comb, fitting that same period when Elvis Presley was producing songs such as It’s Now or Never, with its melody taken from the old Neapolitan song O Sole Mio.

The story is full of twists and turns, and includes a gypsy girl named Zaida, well sung by Leah-Marian Jones, who has left Selim’s household but still loves him. There are scenes of two women pulling at one man, and two men competing for the same woman. There is a very funny restaurant scene with Thomas Allen and Alessandro Corbelli, which later becomes an argument between Corbelli and d’Arcangelo, lifting chairs and charging each other. When the waiter tries to intervene he is caged between the legs of the two chairs. The directors have made such hilarious incidents appear entirely natural, though of course they have had wonderful performers to work with, and earlier in the week when Alessandro Corbelli gave an extended interview at the Royal Opera House, his slight pauses before answering showed a natural comic timing.

And then of course . . . there is the music. As soon as the overture started, the conductor, Maurizio Benini gave Rossini plenty of fizz, and during the performance he allowed the singers freedom with their comic timing, while keeping the orchestra in phase with the stage action. Rossini’s music is full of fun, and this production has a sense of spontaneity, as if it were Commedia dell’arte. The stylized sea, and the evening scene with a crescent moon in an azure sky, recalled for me the song “It’s only a paper moon over a cardboard sea”. But Thomas Allen switched on the moon, and everything was magic. What a shame there was a sprinkling of empty seats in the higher price categories. Perhaps this was owing to the Easter weekend, but the Amphitheatre and the slips were full of appreciative opera lovers.

Linda di Chamounix, Royal Opera, September 2009

This late work by Donizetti was written for a Viennese audience and first performed in May 1842, then revised for Paris in November the same year. It was a great success, but its rather silly plot is now little known, so I’ll give a brief synopsis. Linda is a very pretty peasant, loved by, and in love with, an apparently impecunious artist named Carlo. Unfortunately the local Marquis has designs on Linda, and her father Antonio is dependent on him for the renewal of their lease. To add to the complication, Carlo is the nephew of the Marquis, a fact hidden from everyone. But before things can come to a head, the young men arrange to go to Paris to perform as street entertainers during the winter months when there is no work, and the local Prefect persuades Linda’s father that she should go with them to keep out of the Marquis’s clutches. Carlo follows her, reveals his true identity, and in Paris sets up a stylish home with her. Carlo’s mother hears of it and makes immediate arrangements for her son to marry a member of the aristocracy. In the meantime, the Marquis visits to persuade Linda to leave with him, but is firmly rebuffed. Then Antonio visits seeking help, and when faced with his daughter, living in luxury, he disowns her. Now comes news of Carlo’s forthcoming marriage, and Linda goes mad. Unlike Lucia di Lammermoor however, this all ends happily. Linda returns to Chamounix with her friend, the orphan Pierotto, and is cured by the sound of music, first from Pierotto, then from Carlo, who sings the words they shared when they first met. The whole village then rejoices in anticipation of their wedding. Rather like Act I of Giselle in reverse.

This was a concert performance, brilliantly conducted by Mark Elder, and the cast, headed by Elise Gutierrez as Linda, and Stephen Costello as a gloriously voiced Carlo, was excellent. The father and mother, Antonio and Maddalena were strongly sung by Ludovic Tezier and Elizabeth Sikora, with Balint Szabo singing a firm bass as the Prefect, and Marianna Pizzolato in the contralto part of Pierotto. But the star of the show for me was Alessandro Corbelli as the Marquis. His voice expressed so well the pomposity of the role, and even his entrances and exits were comic masterpieces. He and the young American, Stephen Costello, who was making his debut at Covent Garden, were a delight to watch with their body language helping to express their feelings, even in this concert performance.

Finally it’s worth mentioning that the stage was beautifully lit for the orchestra and chorus, and the dimmed lighting of the auditorium added to the effect, with the dome lit in blue from two lights in the orchestra pit. A very attractive ‘production’, even if it was merely a concert, and I would gladly see more unusual operas like this. An excellent start to the new season for the Royal Opera House.

Review — Il Barbiere di Siviglia, Royal Opera, July 2009

“Give us more Barbers”, said Beethoven to Rossini, and he was quite right. This opera is unsurpassable of its type, and its type is what Rossini was so good at. In this 2005 production by Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier we had a marvellous cast. Unfortunately Juan Diego Flores did not perform, but Colin Lee took over his role as Almaviva, and with Alessandro Corbelli as Doctor Bartolo, Ferruccio Furlanetto as Don Basilio, and Pietro Spagnoli as Figaro we had an excellent complement of male singers, who all sang extremely well. Ferruccio Furlanetto and Alessandro Corbelli are terrific singing actors with perfect comic timing, but what really made the evening was Joyce DiDonato as Rosina. Having broken her leg on the first nght, she was reduced to a wheelchair, but this did nothing to spoil her charm, her voice, or her ability to move around stage in anxious coquettishness. In fact the wheelchair was a most effective prop, amply demonstrating her entrapment. Who knows that it might not be used deliberately in another production!

The costumes by Agostino Cavalca are quite delightful, and match the stage design by Christian Fenouillat, which has hidden sliding doors that when closed make the house a box-like prison. It is a very clever production and I applaud the Royal Opera for bringing in such excellent directors for this and other popular operas. I only wish they could do the same for some of the twentieth century operas that they delight in putting on to bizarre productions by directors who are trying to be too clever by half.

The conducting by Antonio Pappano was very good as usual, though I felt it dragged a bit towards the end. The lighting design by Christoph Forey is wonderful, but the spot on Rosina, forced to be at the front of the stage in her wheelchair, was frequently absent. This is something that should have been fixed in earlier performances, since it is not the first one in which she was stage-front in a wheelchair.

La Cenerentola, live relay from the Metropolitan Opera, New York, May 2009

As the pompous father, Don Magnifico we had the incomparable Alessandro Corbelli, whom I saw at Covent Garden and at Glyndebourne in 2007. He is simply wonderful, playing the part quite straight because, as he said in an intermission interview, these ridiculous people do not realise they are ridiculous. His two fancy daughters, the ‘ugly sisters’ were well played by Rachelle Durkin and Patricia Risley, again without overdoing the farce. As Dandini the valet we had Simone Alberghini, doing a great job of playing up to the idea of being prince for a couple of days, and loving it. As to the serious characters, John Relyea’s commanding voice and strong stage presence made him an unusually powerful prince’s tutor. Lawrence Brownlee was a beautifully voiced prince who sang like a god, though his short stature was an awkward disadvantage as he couldn’t measure up to the poise and beauty of Elina Garanča as Cenerentola, the household slave and third daughter of Don Magnifico who is roundly abused by her half sisters and father. While she was the star of the show, Alessandro Corbelli was superb with his perfect comic timing, particularly in the wine tasting scene, and later when dispossessed of his illusions in the duet with Dandini.

The production by Cesare Lievi, with set and costume designs by Maurizio Balo and lighting by Gigi Saccomandi, worked very well, and the camera work was excellent. The conducting by Maurizio Benini was full of élan and the ensemble pieces were sung to perfection. There was just one serious glitch, at least in the cinema I was in, because the sound was slightly behind the camera work, making the performers look as if they were miming their parts to pre-recorded vocalizations. Let us hope this never happens again.