No-one would hold up Adriana Lecouvreur as an example of
great musical theatre, and it has all but disappeared from our
modern stage mostly, I suspect, due to its laughable plot which
culminates in the heroine dying by poisoned violets! This old-school
DVD, however, serves it as well as you could imagine with the
singers treating this load of old tosh far more seriously than
some would say it deserves.
This is another one of the remarkable series
of Lirica Italiana films, showing Japanese TV relays
of big Italian troupes on tour in Tokyo. VAI have cornered
the niche in releasing these, and there are some truly astonishing
titles in the series. This one came later than most, which
means that at least it’s in stereo, even if the sound is rather
boxy. The picture quality is pretty grainy, however, and as
with all these VAI Japanese relays, there are Japanese subtitles
embedded into the picture which you cannot remove. The
best you can hope for is to mask them with the English translation
over the top, and after a while you can just about zone them
out.
No need to go into the story of this opera
here: it’s famously inconsistent due to cuts that Cilea made
during the rehearsal period, and the nonsensical plot twists
would challenge even the most enthusiastic devotee of verismo.
Let’s focus on the performances, which are absolutely tremendous.
In the title role Caballé is on cracking form. Somewhat like
Callas, Caballé live is preferable to Caballé in the studio:
she rises to the excitement of the occasion producing (almost)
convincing acting as well as great singing. The “Caballé swoop”
is all but absent from this performance, barring an unfortunate
intrusion in Io son l’umille ancella. She is commanding
yet vulnerable as the heroine, at one point the majestic Melpomene,
at another the betrayed lover. Her voice is clear and unmannered
almost throughout, and she shows some gorgeous dynamic shading
at the end of her first aria that rightly draws enthusiastic
applause from the audience. Poveri fiori, in particular,
is solid, clear and quite touching.
1976 saw Carreras in his prime, and here
his young, ardent voice suits Maurizio to a T. He produces
some glorious ringing top notes in his solos, and his duets
with his two lovers are all marvellous. He too manages an impressive
graded diminuendo at Adriana’s death. This is a fitting tribute
to the artist before the publicity machine took over. Most
characterful of all, however, is the fire-eating Fiorenza Cossotto,
who chews up the scenery as the Princess. She is a formidable,
imperious stage presence with a full, rich voice to match.
Her first aria in Act 2 is really exciting, and she clearly
loves the excitement of the live occasion; her vengeful fury
in Act 3 is entirely believable. In short, the three principals
strike sparks off each other and raise this melodrama to the
level of great music which it can miss in the hands of lesser
mortals. D’Orazi is a well-rounded Michonnet, curmudgeonly
in the opening scene, but touching in his not-quite-declarations-of-love
for Adriana. The comprimario roles are all taken very well,
especially the Abbé if Piero de Palma.
Sensibly, the production is ultra-traditional
with well designed period costumes and sets. One down side
is the daft-as-a-brush Judgement of Paris ballet which
just looks naff, but otherwise the sets are pleasing on the
eye, though the stage does feel a bit small. And let’s not
forget the marvellous tunes with which this opera is packed:
Adriana’s two big arias, Maurizio’s military tale in Act 3,
the Actors’ song in Act 4 and the glorious love music, to name
but a few.
So let’s hear it for this opera, in spite
of its faults. The chances of seeing it on the stage any time
soon are fairly small, so enjoy great performance of the past
in the meantime, and if you can bear the subtitles then this is
a good a one as any.
Simon Thompson