Don Pasquale, Opera Holland Park, OHP, June 2011

Don Pasquale is Donizetti’s sixty-fourth opera, and one of his most successful. The title character is a wealthy but crotchety older man who disapproves of the marital choice of his nephew Ernesto. This young man wants to marry the high-spirited, youthful widow, Norina, so Pasquale has decided to take a young wife for himself, and disinherit Ernesto.

Dr. Malatesta and Don Pasquale, all photos Fritz Curzon

The production by Stephen Barlow sets the action in modern dress, complete with the odd mobile phone, and seems to portray Don P as the owner of a run-down, seaside fish and chip shop in England. Dr. Malatesta, friend to both Pasquale and Ernesto, sets him up with his “sister”, really Norina in disguise, and she goes to town spending his money and driving him crazy so that he’ll give up the idea of marriage, and accept Norina as his nephew’s new wife. The opera is partly based on Ben Johnson’s play The Silent Woman. But I was a bit perplexed as to how the owner of a fish and chip shop would have the money to hire masses of new servants in a brand new establishment, and found Norina’s demand that, “I want a Ferrari in the garage by tomorrow” a bit over the top. Yes, I’m sure it was meant to be that way, and the tackiness of her costume in Act III surely owes something to Covent Garden’s recent Anna Nicole, but in that opera the old man really was extremely wealthy, not the owner of a seafront fish and chip shop. I’m afraid I found it all a bit lacking in coherence, and not half as good as Stephen Barlow’s Don Giovanni for OHP last year.

Norina in Act III

Musically however, Richard Bonynge, conducting the City of London Sinfonia, gave a fine account of Donizetti’s delightful score, and was hugely supportive of the singers, particularly during the quartet in Act II. Donald Maxwell held the stage well as Pasquale, giving a strong rendering of the part — he’s always so good, even in secondary roles. And Colin Lee as Ernesto was superb — his soliloquy at the start of Act II was simply wonderful. This is a tenor who took over from Juan Diego Flores at Covent Garden two years ago as Almaviva in Il Barbieri and was the tenor in Covent Garden’s Turco last year — Holland Park did extremely well to get him. Richard Burkhard sang well as Dr. Malatesta, though I would have preferred a stronger stage presence. The fast duet between Malatesta and Pasquale in Act III was partly done as a music hall comedy routine between the two, with a walking stick and umbrella, but it went inevitably a little slowly, particularly at the point when Burkhard sang while standing on one leg, balancing an umbrella on his other foot — a quite remarkable feat! Norina was sung by Majella Cullagh, who did well as Queen Elizabeth I in Holland Park’s Roberto Devereux last year, but seemed mis-cast in the role of the pretty and flirtatious young widow. Her voice lacked the strength for the flexibility and charm this role needs.

Lighting by Mark Jonathan was very good, lending a romantic atmosphere to Act III, particularly in the way the new establishment was lit, and in the illumination of the two old fashioned street lights, both of which burst their bulbs at the end of the Pasquale-Malatesta duet in Act III — a nice touch.

Performances continue until June 24 — for more details click here.

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.

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.