The recording companies have been doing well by Cavalli; Opus 
                  Arte have also given us a good recording of Ercole Amante 
                  on DVD and blu-ray (OA1020D/OABD7050D - review) 
                  and Dynamic have recently released CD and DVD/blu-ray recordings 
                  of Il Giasone. I enjoyed this new recording of La 
                  Didone at least as much as that of Ercole and much 
                  more than Il Giasone, where a good set of performances 
                  is vitiated for me by an over-busy production - see September 
                  2012/1 Roundup. 
                  Fortunately the subject matter of La Didone mostly precludes 
                  the foolery which spoiled Il Giasone; even the temporary 
                  madness of Iarbas is sensitively handled. 
                    
                  The title might lead you to believe that La Didone covers 
                  only the same ground as Purcell’s Dido and Æneas, 
                  the fourth book of Virgil’s Æneid, but you’ll 
                  see from the inclusion of characters such as Cassandra and Anchises 
                  that it begins with the fall of Troy, as narrated in the earlier 
                  books of that work. The Prologue and Act 1 are set amid the 
                  ruins of Troy, vaguely suggested by the background. 
                    
                  Nor does the work end as you might expect with the death of 
                  Dido - instead she marries her long-time suitor Iarbas. There 
                  is some small justification for that in that Iarbas is at least 
                  mentioned by Virgil as having sought to marry Dido (Æneid 
                  4.195-218) and by Ovid, though the latter makes him invade Carthage 
                  after the death of Dido. Cavalli’s librettist took up 
                  the rage which possessed Iarbas on hearing of Dido’s love 
                  for Æneas: “protinus ad regem cursus detorquet Iarban/incenditque 
                  animum dictis atque aggerat iras.” (soon [the rumour] 
                  made its way round to King Iarbas, inflamed his mind with what 
                  was being said and stirred up his anger.) In this production 
                  the happy ending is sensitively handled, with Dido urged to 
                  suicide by the ghost of her husband but saved at the last moment 
                  by the fidelity of Iarbas who has been divinely saved from his 
                  madness. In this production, though Dido agrees to marry Iarbas, 
                  the mood remains sombre, as if she has in fact died spiritually, 
                  a neat solution, though one that is somewhat at odds with the 
                  words and music of rejoicing at that point: 
                    
                  Godiam dunque godiamo 
                  sereni i dì, e ridenti,
                  né pur pronunciamo
                  il nome de’ tormenti.   
                  
                  If that makes it seem as if the librettist had been playing 
                  around unduly with Virgil, it’s worth remembering that 
                  Purcell’s took equally great liberties in introducing 
                  the witches and making Mercury into a creature of theirs. Mercury 
                  is in fact a very serious messenger indeed in Virgil, as he 
                  is in Cavalli where the use of the epithet pio echoes 
                  Virgil’s oft-used epithet pius Æneas, with 
                  a stern message from Jupiter to stop womanising and get on with 
                  the job of founding the Roman Empire. In another departure from 
                  Virgil in la Didone, Æneas’ father Anchises 
                  is still alive when they arrive in Carthage. 
                    
                  What Cavalli has taken on in dealing with the fall of Troy and 
                  the loves of Dido and Æneas in one opera is certainly 
                  daunting; Purcell limited himself to the second half of the 
                  story. Berlioz originally had to split the action across two 
                  operas, as Colin Davis also did with the Chelsea Opera Group 
                  production with which he made his name as a Berlioz interpreter 
                  and which was my own introduction to Les Troyens. At 
                  almost three hours, La Didone is certainly a work of 
                  heavenly length, as, indeed is Ercole Amante, but neither 
                  outstays its welcome. It’s a fine work in the tradition 
                  of his teacher Monteverdi. The blurb describes it as ‘one 
                  of the earliest operas deserving of the name’, which begs 
                  the question what the others were, but it certainly fits.  
                  
                  There is an earlier recording, edited and conducted by Fabio 
                  Biondi on Dynamic DVD 33537 and CD, CDS537. Like the present 
                  recording it was recorded live; with both you have to ignore 
                  a certain amount of stage shuffle. We don’t seem to have 
                  reviewed it on MusicWeb International but it received a mixed 
                  reception elsewhere, largely because of some vocal shortcomings. 
                  Try the audio version for yourself if you can from the Naxos 
                  Music Library. 
                    
                  There need be no serious reservations about any of the performances 
                  on this Opus Arte recording. You can judge for yourself because 
                  large chunks of this performance, one of just under an hour 
                  - here 
                  - and one of almost two hours - here 
                  - are available on YouTube. Anna Bonitatibus’ performance 
                  of Dido’s lament, with French subtitles, is here; 
                  neither sound nor picture is much to write home about by comparison 
                  with the finished product on DVD and blu-ray but these generous 
                  extracts will give you a good idea of the merits not only of 
                  her singing but also of the quality of that lament - a serious 
                  challenge to Purcell’s When I am laid in earth 
                  and even to Monteverdi’s Lamento d’Arianna. 
                  
                    
                  Let me say at the outset that one major recommendation for this 
                  production is the lack of gimmicks in the production. All too 
                  often recent productions of opera have been spoiled by tomfoolery, 
                  such as the shift of the action of the Glyndebourne Rinaldo 
                  to a boarding school, thereby diminishing the value of some 
                  very good singing. There’s very little of that here, though 
                  I’m not sure why Venus has to depart from Troy and arrive 
                  in Carthage lugging a modern suitcase, or why Dido from the 
                  outset is not wearing the dark mourning clothes which Anna begs 
                  her to put aside. Worst of all, though mild by comparison with 
                  that Rinaldo, why does the same dead stag grace the stage 
                  in Troy and in Carthage? Why a dead stag when the hunters have 
                  been exclaiming about catching a boar? It’s handily placed 
                  to provide the blood which Dido smears on herself - and, apparently 
                  on the conductor during the curtain call. 
                    
                  Anna Bonitatibus as Dido is first-class; her powerful mezzo 
                  voice is as resplendent as her wonderful name and Krešimir 
                  špicer’s Æneas is hardly far behind - just 
                  occasionally I thought that he pushed the tone a little too 
                  hard as he was warming up at the start of Act 1. In quieter 
                  moments he sounds mellifluous right from the beginning, especially 
                  when he bids farewell to Dido. I’d encountered Ms Bonitatibus 
                  before as Juno in Ercole Amante and Krešimir špicer 
                  as an effective Ulysses in the Virgin Classics DVD of Monteverdi’s 
                  Il Ritorno d’Ulisse (4906129). They lead a strong 
                  cast here and I hope to hear both again. 
                    
                  There are absolutely no weak spots in the singing; the only 
                  time I had even the slightest concern was when Francesco Javier 
                  Borda as Jupiter failed to be quite convincing with the cruelly 
                  deep notes which Cavalli has given him. Otherwise he manages 
                  the very different roles of Jupiter and Sinon extremely well, 
                  exulting in the wicked deception which he has wrought in the 
                  latter role. Cavalli’s audience would be classically savvy 
                  enough to recall that he was the inventor of the Trojan horse. 
                  
                    
                  Of the other dual roles, Ascanius and Cupid are required to 
                  double by the plot and Terry Wey, boyish in appearance and tone 
                  of voice, carries off both excellently. Only the combination 
                  of Creusa and Juno is problematic - no sooner have we got used 
                  to seeing Tehila Nini Goldstein as the first than she has to 
                  change gear considerably as the exulting goddess. Claire Debono 
                  doubles Iris in the Prologue and Venus. Having played the former 
                  pretty straight, I thought her just a little too coquettish 
                  as Venus. That does at least mirror her reputation in the renaissance, 
                  as depicted in Boticelli’s Venus and Mars. 
                    
                  One other small reservation concerns Anchises; he’s frequently 
                  referred to as decrepit - in Virgil Æneas has to carry 
                  him on his back and in Cavalli’s libretto he calls himself 
                  decrepito - yet he looks rather too sprightly here. We 
                  wouldn’t want him to sing in a comic old-man’s voice 
                  - this is La Didone not La Calisto, where Hugues 
                  Cuénod had such a field day - so it’s just a convention 
                  that we have to respond to with willing disbelief. Similarly, 
                  the abruptness of Creusa’s death, her dying exclamation, 
                  subsequent ghostly reappearance, and the expiration of Coroebus 
                  must be thought of as theatrical conventions just like similar 
                  abrupt deaths and reappearances in Jacobean Revenge Plays and 
                  Victorian melodrama. By and large, there’s nothing here 
                  that has to be taken as convention that we are not likely to 
                  find in a Handel opera. There is some scope for comic relief 
                  in the form of Iarbas’s madness, but it’s hardly 
                  slapstick; it’s less emotive than Vivaldi and Handel were 
                  to make the madness of Orlando, and it’s certainly not 
                  overdone here. Nor is the brief scene where Neptune grapples 
                  with Jupiter for interfering in his domain over-played. 
                    
                  That death of Corœbus gives Cavalli the opportunity to 
                  write a lament for Cassandra of a kind beloved of audiences 
                  of the day. It provides a foretaste of Dido’s lament later; 
                  it was the popularity of Il Lamento d’Arianna that 
                  not only saved it when the rest of Monteverdi’s L’Arianna 
                  was lost but also led its composer to rejig it as a lament for 
                  the Virgin Mary. 
                    
                  William Christie’s direction can almost be taken to guarantee 
                  a fine performance and that’s the case here. We see him 
                  standing at the outset before quite a large orchestra, in front 
                  of a harpsichord. I don’t know how often he plays it, 
                  but there seems to be another keyboard in the continuo - it 
                  and the other continuo instruments can (just) be heard where 
                  it matters and that’s a pleasant change from some modern 
                  recordings where the harpsichord might just as well not be there.  
                  
                    
                  The recording sounds well enough as played on television but 
                  much better via my audio system. I haven’t seen or heard 
                  the blu-ray version, which doubtless improves on the sound and 
                  picture of the DVD, but you certainly wouldn’t be in any 
                  way disappointed with the latter. The camera-work is mostly 
                  unobtrusive; in the brighter lighting of Acts 2 and 3, the chitarrone 
                  sticking up into the picture is a little distracting, but it 
                  probably could not have been avoided. Just occasionally individual 
                  voices catch the microphone less than ideally as the actor moves 
                  across the stage; this particularly when heard on headphones. 
                  Slightly more often the stage noises are a little distracting, 
                  especially when heard in audio only.  
                  The notes are far too minimal - a two-page essay in three languages 
                  on the Cavalli revival, but no libretto or even synopsis, just 
                  a brief plot outline, which is a serious problem. The subtitles, 
                  though good, are no substitute. There’s an online Italian 
                  libretto here 
                  and another with English translation here. 
                  There are subtitles in English, French and German only; could 
                  we not also have had them in the original Italian? The English 
                  translation is mainly accurate, though there’s the odd 
                  inevitably typo and an occasional questionable translation - 
                  why call Giove and Mercurio, the Latin deities, by their Greek 
                  names, Zeus and Hermes in the subtitles? When Dido describes 
                  herself in the final scene as Iarbas’ ancella e sposa, 
                  the first word signifies handmaid or slave, not friend as it’s 
                  translated. 
                    
                  As I was tidying up this review I noticed that one music magazine 
                  has made this the thoroughly deserved DVD/Blu-ray Recording 
                  of the Month, a title which I was also tempted to bestow. If 
                  you wish to have only one Cavalli recording in your collection, 
                  this would vie strongly for that honour, ahead of Ercole 
                  Amante and alongside the inauthentic but hugely enjoyable 
                  Raymond Leppard recording of La Calisto (no longer available 
                  on CD; download from amazon.co.uk). 
                  You may even find yourself preferring La Didone to Monteverdi. 
                  
                    
                  Brian Wilson