I guess life’s a series of detours that turn out – in the end – to be the appointed road. As I said I came to opera late – well into my senior years. Up to then my musical obsessions, many and varied, had never really included opera.
I love peplum/sword and sandal movies, Egypt and Babylon being my two favourite settings for same. As it happens, my real entry point to the world of opera was the overture to Rossini’s “Semiramide”. Having learned that this particular opera was set in ancient Babylon, I took it into my head to listen to its overture on YouTube. What I’d hoped for was some kind of precursor to the kind of score Hollywood composers had concocted for peplum epics. Huge orchestra, music swirling with minor key flourishes – fragrant exotica that instantly conjured up images of temples, palaces and peacock thrones. What I got instead was spectacular but in a completely different way. I’d expected something portentous; instead I found that wonderful mixture of the jaunty and the stately that was a key to so much baroque and early romantic music. The "Semiramide" overture was such a surprise I found myself intrigued. So I listened to a full recording of the opera (the 1992 Deutsche Grammaphon one conducted by Ion Marin starring Cheryl Studer, Jennifer Larmore, Samuel Ramey and Frank Lopardo). Ramey’s the only one I’d ever heard of before but all four principals impressed me mightily. As did the entire opera. The grandeur I’d hoped for was there – but the music also had an intoxicatingly frisky energy I wouldn’t have thought compatible with the setting and story. But it worked magnificently. That cast never filmed a performance of “Semiramide” so I acquired a DVD of a June Anderson/Marilyn Horne production from 1990 – also featuring Ramey). And one viewing sealed the deal for me. It remains one of my very favorite opera DVD.s. After that I embarked on a Rossini quest that had me exploring one after another of his works. As it turned out, it was his dramatic creations that appealed to me most. Somehow the famous comic ones, “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” and “Cenenterola” just didn’t do it for me, But things like “Ermione”, “Elisabetta Regina d’Inghilterra” and “Maometto II” pushed all my buttons in just the right way. At first I figured my opera interests would be confined to the works Signor Rossini put out during his all too brief operatic career (1812 to 1829). But eventually other composers and other eras beckoned. Now my long list of favorites stretches from 1600 well into the 20th century.
As I continued to explore, I retained some of the giddily exciting feeling that I was operating without a guidebook. Opera remains mainly a listening experience for me. Just sitting in the dark, eyes closed drinking it all in. The fact that most operas I encounter are in languages other than English carries a certain advantage. I almost always read a synopsis of the plot beforehand. But – as I listen to an opera I'm enjoying – I find it easy to convince myself that its libretto is as polished and beguiling as the music. The phonetic sound of the words – even in a language I don’t understand – can still be transporting.
I remain something of a stranger in a strange land where opera’s concerned. But it’s a land I’m excited to have encountered. With my limited knowledge, there’s still a sense that I’m listening from the other side of the door. Maybe I’ll never be able to get more than my foot into the actual auditorium. But what I’ve been able to suss out is sufficiently intoxicating that I continue to explore, enthusiasm unabated.
There are some who bemoan the fact that modern operatic composers don’t seem to be writing works in the old bel canto and baroque styles. But there are hundreds, thousands of lesser known operas that have been written in that style over the centuries. And every year more are rediscovered and - in the best case scenarios - recorded for new generations to discover. The wonderful operas of Mercadante, Mayr and countless others are now easily accessible after centuries of virtual obscurity. Music labels like Opera Rara and Bru Zane continue to revive unjustly forgotten works from past centuries with marvelous new recordings.
And if you’re interested in learning more about the worldwide
opera repertoire, I strongly advise that you check out two wonderful websites.
Phil’s Opera World and The Opera Scribe. Both are maintained by gentlemen with vast musical knowledge and the ability to
convey that knowledge in an accessible and engaging way. They’ve turned me on
to so many works I’d never have known about otherwise. For which I remain forever
grateful.
So now I’ll continue with another my own little batch of chronological observations on operas that have pleased me.
SAFFO(Mayr-1794)
German born composer Simon Mayr produced a long series of Italian operas, that being opera’s then fashionable language. “Saffo”, set in ancient Greece. was his very first – and an instant success. It’s put together with great assurance. Stately when it has to be, then gentle and introspective – but always musically attractive. The first half is good, the second even better. In 1802 Mayr relocated to Italy beginning his greatest years of creativity and accomplishment. During Rossini’s early hey-day, Mayr was widely considered to be of at least equal eminence.
LEONORA(Paer-1804)
The
first decade or so of the nineteenth century stands as a relatively barren
period in the history of opera. Appearing in retrospect as a kind of stage wait
between the remarkable productivity of the late 18th century and the
meteoric rise of Rossini beginning in 1812. Even Simon Mayr, one of the leading
lights of the 1890’s went into relative hibernation until Rossini’s rise
revitalized his creative juices, inspiring him to another period of great
prominence. But there were a couple of works from the beginning of the century
that deserve to be remembered and honored much more than they are. One is
Ferdinando Paer’s “Leonora”. It’s set to the same story as Beethoven’s much
more famous “Fidelio” (the composer’s only opera). Though Paer’s opus is not
particularly well-known, those lucky enough to encounter it will find that its
music still retains the ability to beguile across the centuries. “Leonora”’s
score preserves the stately qualities of the baroque era – but infuses them
with a fresh blast of spontaneity. Or at very least an artful simulation of
same. The arias tumble past, one gem after another, each sympathetically and
creatively orchestrated. Even the recitatives spark pleasurable engagement.
Hard to single out one highlight when there are so many pleasures to be had but
the Act 1 duet “Quai pensiero”, with it sublimely bracing momentum is hard to
resist. A 2021 recording from Innsbruck, Austria (made under strict covid
regulations) is conducted with enthusiasm and expertise by Alessandro De
Marchi; the whole cast is superb, the standout being soprano Eleanora Bellocci,
stunningly assured in the marathon title role.
FERNAND CORTEZ(Spontini-1809)
On the rare occasions Spontini’s “Fernand Cortez” is discussed it’s usually written off as a grandiose stage production whose operatic score was of little substance. The piece was basically created at the behest of no less a personage than Napoleon himself. He admired Spontini’s work and encouraged the composer to write a grand-scale opera which would celebrate the idea of a magnanimous conqueror, that being pretty much Napoleon’s self-image. Spontini chose Cortez’s conquest of the Aztecs as his subject, presenting the Spanish adventurer in a light far more flattering than history generally accords him. The resultant production was extravagant on every level. Napoleon himself attended the premiere and the public received the work with clamorous enthusiasm. After the emperor’s downfall, though, performances became decidedly less frequent. Like most people on earth, I’ve never seen a production of “Fernand Cortez”. But I have heard the 1999 recording on Accord conducted by Jean-Paul Penin - and loved every minute of it. The performers are excellent; Melena Marras (as Cortez) sounds particularly great. In fact, musically there’s never a dull moment. Captivating choral sections, beautifully orchestrated ballet interludes; what’s on offer, in effect, is a breathtakingly sustained stream of captivating melody. Conductor Penin approaches Spontini’s score with passion and precision and – even without visuals to razzle dazzle us - expertly brings it to grand, glowing life.
LA PIETRA DEL PARAGONE(Rossini-1812)
This was the first Rossini opera to be professionally staged (he was just twenty at the time). Immediately appreciated, it brought the composer offers for several new commissions. And within a couple of years, he was not only at the forefront of the Italian opera scene; his music and fame had taken most of Europe by storm as well. “La Pietra del Paragone” (loosely The Paragon of Perfection) is a completely engaging work, a lighthearted piece about a man who projects levels of perfection onto his fiancée – levels she is entirely (and understandably) uncomfortable about maintaining. There’s a naturalness, an unforced variety to the music that lends the piece a wonderfully unassuming quality. Everything just flows with a happy momentum. Especially fine are the numerous ensembles involving various combinations of the principals; they’re generally upbeat and always beautifully constructed. Rossini soon had even bigger comedy successes with “Il Barbiere di Seviglia” and “Cenenterola”. But – to my ears – these have a show-offy, winking at the audience, aren’t I funny feeling that simply isn’t there in La Pietra. I myself tend to prefer the composer’s more serious operas. So did his wife and muse, the famous soprano Isabel Colbran. So those became his main focus. But of Rossini’s comedies, “La Pietra del Paragone” remains the one I continue to listen to and love.
L’ITALIANA IN ALGERI(Rossini-1813)
The tremendous success of this bright bauble marked an important step in Rossini’s meteoric rise to the top of the Italian opera scene. And he was barely 21 at the time. His music here nicely matches the merry momentum of the story. A young Italian girl is shipwrecked off the coast of North Africa; in short order she’s plunked down in the harem of a North African sultan where – through a series of adventures – she learns to take charge of her own fate. In the process, even helping set off a palace revolution. By story’s end she’s headed home. But now – empowered and confident – is happily in control of her own future.
SIGISMONDO(Rossini-1814)
“Sigismondo”
is set in 16th century Poland with a plot that’s convoluted and
implausible even by bel canto standards. But as a listening experience it’s
rock solid. My acquaintance with the work comes via an excellent live recording
from 2019. It may be one of Rossini’s lesser known operas, but in the capable
hands of Canadian conductor Keri Lynn Wilson, “Sigismondo” registers as a work
of austere – and sustained – beauty. Unfolding with stately momentum - which is not to suggest any lack of energy.
The Hunter’s Chorus in Act 1, for example – with its blend of rich male
harmonies and hunting horns - is an especially rousing highlight. One other
thing that pleased me very much about “Sigismondo” was the virtual absence of
annoying recitatives. Already, this early in his career, Rossini was fully
embracing the concept of opera as a seamlessly flowing experience. The role of Sigismondo, King of Poland is
written to be played and sung by a female, specifically a mezzo-soprano.
Onstage, this practice – once common – doesn’t always sit comfortably with me.
Here – as a purely aural experience, it works fine. The same kind of
gender-bending casting occurs in Rossini’s later masterpiece “Semiramide”. That
opera I’ve seen in a marvelous video presentation. And the female as male thing
registered perfectly there. But – of
course – the role was performed by the great Marilyn Horne, an artist seemingly
incapable of putting a wrong foot forward.
ELENA(Mayr-1814)
A soap
bubble of an opera– light, pretty, practically iridescent at times – leaning
toward insubstantiality but not at all lacking in pleasures This is what’s known as a “rescue opera”,
built around efforts (ultimately successful) to come to the aid of someone in
danger or captivity – frequently the heroine. The same basic story was
transferred from Italy to Scotland for Meyerbeer’s “Emma di Resburgo” in 1819
with weightier results.
ELISABETTA REGINA D’INGHILTERRA(Rossini-1815)
Royals
were a popular subject for opera throughout the 1800’s and the Tudors certainly
came in for their fair share of the spotlight. Here the focus was on Good Queen
Bess herself. And Rossini honoured that
famous lady with one of his finest scores.
In this telling, the queen is romantically attracted to the dashing Duke
of Leicester. Sensing Elizabeth’s interest and reluctant to jeopardize his
position at court - – Leicester fails to reveal that he’s secretly wed to the
daughter of one her enemies. The ambitious Duke of Norfolk lets that particular
cat out of the bag and - momentarily enraged - the monarch threatens the
married pair with death. Eventually though, the couple – still loyal to their
queen – save her from an assassination attempt by none other than the ever
scheming Norfolk. Grateful, she not only decides to overlook the pair’s
previous deception but heaps Leicester with new honors. Suppressing her
romantic feelings, Elizabeth vows from now on to concentrate all her energies
on ensuring the welfare of her country and her subjects. The Philips recording I own - conducted by
Gianfranco Masini – dates from 1975. And it’s splendid. Montserrat Caballe, at
the height of her considerable powers, is Elizabeth; Jose Carreras, voice
gleaming like a newly cut diamond, makes a marvelous Leicester. And Valerie
Masterson – as Leicester’s bride - brings genuine distinction to the role. She
delivers her aria “Sento un interno voce” with such tender intimacy one hates to
hear it end. The whole opera teems with great duets – one of the best “Misera!
A quale stato” is shared by Elizabeth and Norfolk. Rossini also supplies a
wealth of choral material, sung beautifully on the Philips recording. And the
orchestral accompaniment combines dramatic enhancement and sheer beauty with
real mastery. All in all, a great performance - but it’s important to note that
“Elisabetta Regina d’Inghilterra” is splendid to begin with. No wonder
audiences reacted so rapturously to Rossini’s early operas. He shed new light
on the whole operatic scene. Suddenly there was a new sun in the sky.
TORVALDO E DORLISKA(Rossini-1815)
This
one’s a swirl of castles, complications and coloratura flourishes. Basically,
noble Dorliska is adbucted by the evil Duke of Ordow. Her husband, the knight Torvaldo, with the
help of confederates, sets about trying to rescue her. The mission is
eventually accomplished allowing the curtain to fall on rejoicing from all but
the villain. At this (fairly early) point in his career, Rossini seemed
practically incapable of writing a score that was anything but melodious. Right
from Torvaldo’s beautiful opening aria to the rousing finale, this is a
winner.
ALFREDO IL GRANDE(Mayr-1819)
A
thoroughly marvelous score from Simon Mayr, virtually the only opera composer
popular in the 18th century to continue his winning streak decades
into the 19th. “Alfredo il Grande” retold the familiar legend of 9th
century Saxon king Alfred the Great being pursued into hiding by Viking
enemies. This forces him to spend a good deal of the opera on the run and
incognito. That incognito element is strongly reinforced by the fact that – in
Mayr’s version - the part’s played by a woman. These so-called “trouser roles”
were still a common feature of operas at the time. In fact, the genre regularly
demonstrated a sort of gender fluidity. In the preceding century castrati had
often played women’s roles. And throughout the 1800’s the sight of women in
trousers wooing women in gowns seldom seemed to pose a problem for opera
audiences. Perhaps some felt a degree of titillation but most seem to have just
accepted it as one more element of theatrical glamour. As for “Alfredo il
Grande”’s score, it opens with a pleasantly quirky overture then quickly segues
into a rousing male choral number. The air of pastoral woodland charm is kept
alive throughout with the judicious use of hunting horns and lots more male
choral material. But then everything in the score – start to finish -bristles
with an engaging fresh air quality.
Rossini produced three fine – and very popular - opera scores in 1819.
But Mayr’s opus, which appeared around Christmas that year, was as good as any
of them.
EMMA DI RESBURGO(Meyerbeer-1819)
Set in
Scotland, this one’s a complete pleasure.
In the Rossini style – but still full of lovely musical surprises. I
particularly remember a sprinkling of harp near the beginning that quietly
dazzles. This was an early success for Meyerbeer – but for whatever reasons –
was hardly ever revived after the composer’s lifetime. A live recording (on CD)
from 2010 does real justice to the work. German soprano Simone Kermes is
particularly impressive in the title role.
BIANCA E FALLIERO(Rossini-1819)
Though
not without its unexpected moments (the recurrent single instrumental chord
repeated at jackhammer speed during the otherwise placidly lilting “Pace Alfin”
section in Act 1), Rossini’s score here tends to value consistency over
showstopping moments. There are several ensemble numbers with cleverly
intersecting vocal parts; the stately quartet near the end of Act 2 is admired
by many. But for the most part the story is modestly enhanced – rather than
transfigured - by the music. That story, by the way, involves a young Venetian
noblewoman (Bianca) who – after the man she loves has reportedly died in battle
– is committed by her ambitious father to a politically advantageous marriage.
When Bianca’s beloved (Falliero) turns up alive, she refuses to continue with
plans for the arranged marriage. Causing much in the way of ruffled feathers,
hand-wringing and devious plotting on the parts of her father and other
concerned parties. All ends happily, though, when Bianca’s unwanted bridegroom
becomes convinced that the bond between Bianca and Falliero is simply too
strong and noble to ignore and he withdraws his claim.
LA DONNA DEL LAGO(Rossini-1819)
The novels and stories of author Sir Walter Scott enjoyed a great wave of popularity in early 19th century Italy. Heroes like Ivanhoe and Rob Roy, highland settings and Scottish motifs suddenly captured the public’s imagination in a gigantic way. The success of Rossini’s “La Donna del Lago” (based on Scott’s epic narrative poem “The Lady in the Lake”) inspired other composers to look to Scott for operatic inspiration. Donizetti alone wrote two (“Il Castello di Kenilworth” and “Lucia di Lammermoor”). “La Donna del Lago” is easily one of Rossini’s most consistently melodious works, an impressive statement considering the man’s prodigiously applied gift for melody. A brief, beguilingly energized instrumental opening quickly morphs into a jubilant choral outburst, peppered with a sprinkling of hunting horns. The outdoor setting bracingly established, the heroine (the Lady of the Lake herself) drifts into view on a small boat singing the ethereal “O mattutini albori”, a melody that will make frequent and welcome reappearances as the play progresses. She encounters a handsome fugitive (not knowing he’s the young King of Scotland incognito) and offers him her family’s protection. But not, of course, before the two have shared the first of many lovely duets. The chorus gets plenty of opportunities to shine throughout the evening. And Rossini’s music manages a lovely balance between galloping gaiety and quiet contemplation. Transitions always seem organic, never jarring. In fact, the entire work seems to operate like an elegant, gracefully spinning mechanism that always finds just the right tempo for every moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment