Here is a charming
light-hearted, early Italian comic opera
– concerning a ferocious yet hilarious
battle of the sexes. Its format is typical
of its period, principally arias and
recitatives. The ensemble, I Barocchisti
(directed with much verve and spirit
by Diego Fasolis) is small: seven violins,
one each of viola, cello and double
bass plus two oboes, one bassoon, two
horns, a lute and a busy harpsichord
continuo.
Niccolò Piccinni
was born in Bari and studied at the
Conservatory in Naples. His early successes
swept him to prominence in Rome where
he achieved great popularity – especially
with La Cecchina o sia La buona figliuola
- and received a multitude of commissions.
Alas he could not sustain his early
promise and he was forced to return
to Naples to assume posts in the Cathedral
and at the Bourbon Court. Later, his
career took him, none too successfully,
to Paris where he became embroiled in
musical politics. He unintentionally
became the representative of the anti-Gluckians.
He returned to Naples when the French
Revolution broke only to fall foul of
politics again; this time of a revolutionary
nature when his daughter married a French
Jacobin. He was placed under house arrest
but managed to escape and returned to
Paris where, this time, he was fêted.
He died in Passy on 7th May
1800.
Roman society gave
Piccinni’s little farce, The Revenge
of the Women an enthusiastic welcome.
It was first performed in the Teatro
alla Valle, Rome during the Roman Carnival
in 1763. The action takes place in and
around a pretty country villa near Bologna.
Briefly the story concerns the love
of two young girls: the simpering (yet
ultimately more enterprising) Lindora
and the bookish Aurelia for Count Belleza.
To say that Belleza is vain would be
an understatement; he would make Narcissus
look modest. When the girls try to woo
him with flowers and laurels, he scorns
them swearing that all women are mendacious,
untruthful, deceitful and insincere.
Of course the girls are furious and
swear vengeance. They enlist the cowardly
Ferramonte, Lindora’s uncle, who adores
Aurelia, to be their champion. The Count
and Ferramonte try all sorts of excuses
not to fight and at length the headstrong
Aurelia seizes Ferramonte’s sword and
attacks the hapless count who cringes
under her ferocity. Of course love wins
out in the end and the ladies get their
men as they all finally chorus: "…
three cheers for women, the bringers
of joy."
The comic opera opens
with a light, bright and breezy Sinfonia,
quite Italianate in character and with
a decorative elegance. The pace is brisk,
the atmosphere sparkling and the arias
amusing. The two soprano voices blend
nicely but the lighter lyric voice of
Sylva Pozzer might have lent itself
better to the part of Lindora. That
must not detract, however, from Castellani’s
impressive coloratura singing in her
arias notably her Part I ‘Le povera
donne’ (Ladies poor souls are so loving)
in which she angrily reproaches the
Count for his discourtesy; and in her
amusing Part II warning to the ladies
that "we are like the nightingale
believing what men say; men are toads
who would bamboozle us!" Piccinni’s
orchestral writing for this aria is
brilliantly, wittily evocative of both
bird and reptile. Pozzer as Aurelia
is fiery enough and she shines in her
defiant, triumphant aria ‘Infelici,
pover’uomini’ (Wretched, foolish men
mannerless boors the lot of you..) Vincenzo
Di Donato as the hapless Count is excellent,
pompously vain as he suggests that no
woman can possibly resist him and foppishly
disdainful of women’s (so he imagines)
weaknesses. Baritone Mauro Buda is also
good as the clownish champion Ferramonte,
especially feigning valour (against
a twittering ironic accompaniment) in
his ‘Per esempio, se il nemico’ (If
my opponent comes at me with his rapier
look at me, my dearest and you shall
see this sword flash like lightning
descending upon the villain’s head!).
A delightful, fast-moving
witty farce with a strong cast.
Ian Lace