Tancredi and L’Italiana in Algeri, Rossini’s
tenth and eleventh operas, both premiered in Venice, launched
the composer on an unstoppable career. They saw him become the
most prestigious opera composer of his time. The formidable impresario
Domenico Barbaja summoned Rossini to Naples and offered him the
position of musical director of the city’s two Royal Theatres,
the San Carlo and Fondo. Barbaja’s proposals appealed to Rossini
for several reasons. Not only was his annual fee generous and
guaranteed, but also the San Carlo had a professional orchestra,
unlike the theatres of Venice and Rome. The composer also saw
this as a considerable advantage as he aspired to push the boundaries
of his opera composition in more adventurous directions. Under
the terms of the contract, Rossini was to provide two operas each
year for Naples whilst being permitted to compose occasional works
for other cities. The composer tended to test the limits of this
contract and in the first two years composed no fewer than five
operas for other venues, including four for Rome.
Only three weeks
after the premiere of La Cenerentola at Teatro Valle,
Rome, on 25 January 1817, Rossini went to fill yet another new
commission. This was for La Scala, Milan who, like Naples, also
boasted a professional orchestra. Here he was given the libretto
of La gazza ladra (The Thieving Magpie). It was to be
his twenty-first opera and was premiered to great enthusiasm
on 31 May 1817. It quickly spread across Europe reaching England
in 1821 and America six years later. With its opening drum-rolls,
the overture made appropriate demands on the orchestra of La
Scala and nowadays features as a concert-piece in its own right.
La gazza ladra
is significantly longer than any of Rossini’s previous
operas. Whilst it is termed a melodrama it really belongs, like
his Torvaldo e Dorliska, (see
review) to the genre of semi-serious opera. These works
are so called because the basic pattern of the plot involves
the principal character, without being guilty of any wrong,
falling into mortal danger before being rescued at the last
moment. Available audio recordings of La gazza ladra
have, for some time, been limited to a live performance of the
1989 Pesaro Festival production conducted by Gianluigi Gelmetti
(Sony 45850) and an extended highlight version in English from
Chandos, largely derived from a production first staged by Opera
North. On DVD the only other version available originates from
a Michael Hempe production from Cologne in 1987 featuring Ileana
Cotrubas as Ninetta. Despite her appealing stage presence and
convincing acting she cannot disguise her age and the effect
of heavier roles in large theatres (see review).
The plot of La
gazza ladra is well known and simple in outline. The libretto
is full of minor diversionary details that serve to provide
situations and set-pieces for the main soloists. Away from the
San Carlo at Naples, with its roster of the dramatic coloratura
singers such as Isobel Colbran, Giovanni David and Andrea Nozzari
to cater for, Rossini was able to extend his musical creativity
on the basis of a more mainstream operatic cast. The Cologne
production benefited from the direct production style of Michael
Hempe aided by the natural stage designs and period costumes.
For this new production at Pesaro in 2008, the Rossini Foundation
appointed the avant-garde Damiano Michieletto to direct. He
is full of ideas and so is his set designer Paolo Fantin.
During the overture a young girl is seen preparing for bed.
As she falls asleep it appears she has a nightmare and dreams
she is a magpie. A large drape descends which she converts into
a sling and is carried aloft perched like an acrobat. Thereafter
she flitters around the stage doing the magpie’s business. It
would have been a better idea if the hoops of her modern dress
top had been black and white with a touch of blue rather than
red and white. At the conclusion of the overture this magpie
girl sets a series of large candle tubes into a matrix frame.
This is the model for the set with large versions of the tubes
descending in a vertical position to comprise the act one set
in a shoebox stage. At the end of the first act, as Ninetta
is accused and finds herself in dire trouble, the tubes become
horizontal, pointing towards the audience and smoking like artillery
guns.
All the cast is
in modern dress, and to add to the fear of totalitarian-type
justice the Podesta looks as if he is an uber-Scarpia escaped
from a modern dress production of Tosca. He is flanked
by armalite- or kalashnikov-toting henchmen! By the time of
Podesta’s entrance, and his attempts to try and force his attentions
on an unwilling Ninetta, the general strength of the singing
was clearly evident. As Ninetta the rather buxom Mariola Canterero
sings with a full tone, particularly in the lower registers,
but lacks something of an easy and flexible top. Dmitry Korchak
as Gianetto seems yet another welcome addition to the list of
lyric tenors. He sings strongly and with good expression and
diction. Among the lower male voices the strengths of Alex Esposito
as Fernando in particular, and Paola Bordogna as Fabrizio, were
rather overshadowed by the acting and singing of Michele Pertusi
as a saturnine Podesta, his lean bass having an appropriate
cruel bite to it. Kleopatra Papatheologou sings expressively
and with good variety of colour as Lucia, but looks rather too
young. Manuela Custer’s superbly acted and sung portrayal of
Pippo, who has to carry the burden of unrequited love of Ninetta
as well as getting her innocence proved, is a world class portrayal
in all respects. She sings with a wide variety of tonal colour,
verbal nuance and excellent expression and legato as well as
acting the role to perfection.
Act two opens with
the magpie standing in a rainstorm and becoming increasingly
bedraggled. The water was retained several centimetres deep
on the stage throughout the act. Wet and bedraggled was the
lot of several of the singers as they were put into situations
of having to wallow in it! I have not worked out what this water-play
was supposed to represent. Maybe it was significant that the
Podesta did not have to crawl in it. Meanwhile the large tubes,
stacked horizontally, represent Ninetta’s gaol. By now she is
in a sackcloth shift and bare-footed; appropriate as she is
paddling in the onstage water throughout the act. Careful camera
work causes the removal of the tubes to be a mystery whilst
an upper gantry is flown from which the judges enter, remain
dry, and pass their sentence on Ninetta. It later serves as
the bell tower where the missing goods are discovered, with
loss of dramatic effect. The earlier dénouement of the magpie
stealing Pippo’s sparkling silver coin goes for nothing. The
entrance of Lucia with her long elegant skirt swishing through
the water detracts from the powerful emotion of her words (Disc
2 Ch 6). Somehow, Kleopatra Papatheologou’s singing maintains
the dignity, drama and expression of the words although it is,
perhaps, one of the examples when some of the cast seem lost
as to what they are doing and why. I specifically exempt Alex
Esposito from any criticism in this respect. He acts with conviction
whilst kneeling, or worse, in the water whilst singing with
power and variety of expression (Disc 2 Ch. 4). The singers
and conductor are well received at the curtain-calls, as doubtless
would Rossini have been for the quality of his music.
As I watched this
production I thought of a perhaps apocryphal story of Rossini.
When accosted by a friend in the street and asked if he had
enjoyed the performance of his opera the night before, he is
reputed to have replied along the lines of yes, at least those
parts of it he recognised as having written. This comment refers
to the habit of singers of the day bringing and performing their
own elaborate vocal decorations and even interpolating arias
by other composers to better show off their skills. In those
days singers were in charge, now it is the director who is in
the driving seat. If Rossini had seen this production, he would
have recognised his music, given in full in the Critical Edition
by Alberto Zedda, but if he saw it without sound he would never
relate it to his own work. The scholar Philip Gossett, who along
with Zedda has been instrumental in the creation of the Pesaro
Rossini Foundation, as well as being artistic advisor and editor
of the Rossini Critical Edition, parted company with the Foundation
a few years ago on the basis of disagreements over artistic
policy. Whilst not a purist in respect of updating, I suspect
the kind of producer concept that this production exemplifies
may have had an influence on his parting. The credits indicate
a connection with Helsinki. If this production is to transfer
there, let singers beware. I suspect paddling in Finnish cold
water will produce more cases of rheumatics than might have
been the case at Pesaro where the August temperatures often
climb into the thirties Celsius and a cooling paddle might have
been welcomed!
The booklet synopsis
could gainfully be Chapter-related, particularly as there are
errors in who is singing as noted in the Chapter list. The number
of Chapter divisions is too small in number, at sixteen, for
over three hours of music with many distinct scenes, arias,
duets and ensembles. The rival Arthaus Music issue referred
to has fifty-seven.
Robert J Farr