Cavalli’s ‘Statira,
Principessa di Persia’ was first performed
in Venice in 1656 to a libretto by Busannello,
who had provided the libretti for Cavalli’s
‘Gli Amori di Apollo e di Dafne’ and
‘Didone’. Quite a number of Cavalli’s
operas received performances in Naples
soon after their premieres in Venice.
This was probably planned for ‘Statira’
but plague in Naples put paid to this
plan. The opera was in fact revived
in Naples in 1666 as part of the celebrations
for the coronation of Philip 4th
of Spain, its last performances until
modern times.
The surviving manuscripts
of the opera shed some interesting light
on the operatic practices of the period.
A manuscript, connected with the 1666
Naples performances gives us a pretty
complete musical picture of the work
as performed there. Also surviving is
an incomplete manuscript relating to
the Venice performances which has no
mythological prologue or finale but
what makes it fascinating is that it
is substantially in Cavalli’s own hand.
In his notes Dinko Fabris argues that
this score was a notebook, containing
material from various versions and corresponding
to no particular performance.
For this disc, Antonio
Florio and his Cappella di Turchini
give us a complete performance of the
Naples version, complete with comic
scenes and other items which may have
been added specially for Naples by hands
other than Cavalli’s.
The story turns on
the amatory adventures of Statira, princess
of Persia (in real life a daughter of
Darius, she became Alexander the Great’s
second wife). Having nursed Cloridaspe,
King of Arabia, after he was wounded
in battle, the two have fallen in love.
This love is hindered by Statira’s two
hand-maidens. One, Floralba, is in love
with Cloridaspe herself. The other,
Ermosilla, is actually a man (Usimano)
who is masquerading as Statira’s serving
woman as he is in love with Statira.
To complicate matters Nicarco has fallen
in love with Ermosilla. The plot gradually
works itself out, with many complications
along the way. There are further battles,
Cloridaspe is captured and rescued by
Ermosilla/Usimano (initially pretending
to be a woman dressed as a man). Ermosilla/Usimano
kills Nicarco because he refuses to
kill Cloridaspe. The action is aided
(or hindered) by a group of servants.
Vaffrino, Nicarco’s black servant; Elissena,
Statira’s old nurse and played by a
man; Eurillo, Statira’s page. The principal
comic element in the opera comes from
the play that is made on the fact that
Elissena is sung by a man; this especially
when Eurillo pretends to woo her. Of
course, all ends happily with Statira
married to Cloridaspe, Floralba (revealed
to be Cloridaspe’s sister) married to
Usimano.
There is a great deal
of recitative, interspersed with some
lovely arias in Cavalli’s typical style
with charming melodies over dance rhythms.
But if you do not speak Italian, you
do have to spend a lot of time following
the opera with the libretto to come
to understand the opera. But for those
that do understand Italian, and for
those who simply love the language,
this set is a dream as it is performed
by an all Italian speaking cast who
bring the work’s language to the fore,
making really dramatic play with the
text.
Antonio Flori’s Capella
de Turchini are a small group who give
a crisp flexible performance of the
work. Cavalli does not give them many
moments to really shine, but they provide
just the capable and discreet accompaniment
needed in opera of this period and type.
Regarding the singers,
things are rather more mixed when it
comes to their voices. In the title
role, soprano Roberta Invernizzi is
simply lovely. She sings with a rich
voice, providing good, flexible ornaments.
In her aria in Scene 9 of Act 2, she
shows herself perfectly capable of delivering
a brilliant vocal part when needed.
Mezzo-soprano Dionisia
di Vico, sings Cloridaspe with lovely
firm tones, though the part sounds a
little too low for her and I did wonder
what sort of voice it was originally
written for. Still, she sings Cavalli’s
music with a fine sense of shape and
style and her duets with Statira are
quite lovely.
As Ermosilla/Usimano,
soprano Maria Ercolano has some of the
most dramatic action. The scene where
she/he kills Nicarco is brilliantly
dramatic, but Ercolano also hauntingly
sings Usimano’s lament for his native
land.
Tenor Giuseppe de Vittorio
is the travesty Elissena, making much
play with her comic by play. His is
not the most subtle of performances,
but in this sort of part who can really
complain.
As Floralba, soprano
Maria Grazia Schiavo displays some lovely
bright tones. Her aria in Scene XIII
of Act 1 is a charming, dance-like number,
but here and in other places her performance
is marred by a tendency to lose focus
in the upper register.
Bass Giuseppe Naviglio
plays three roles; Pluto in the prologue
and then the small role of Darius and
Nicarco. As Darius he displays a pleasant,
firm baritone register, but in the longer
role of Nicarco he is apt to bluster
and his ornamentation can be a little
sketchy.
As the councillor,
Brimonte, contralto Daniela del Monaco
displays rather counter-tenor-like tones
which unfortunately sometimes lack focus.
The part sometimes sounded a little
low for her and this rather marred her
delivery of ornamentation in her aria.
As the black servant,
Vaffrino, tenor Rosario Totaro provides
a voice which is rich in character,
but rather over-heavy on vibrato. His
performance is vivid, but not always
easy on the ear.
Roberta Andalo sings
the small role of Eurillo, but has the
advantage of having the funniest part
in the opera when Eurillo ‘woos’ Elisenna
in an amusing scene full of lovely verbal
conceits.
Despite their occasional
vocal uncertainties, the cast have a
pretty good grasp of the style and mood
of Cavalli’s piece and combined with
their wonderful projection of the text,
makes for an enthralling listen. A more
international cast might give us a more
musically perfect performance, but they
are unlikely to give us such a vivid
one.
Robert Hugill