Giuseppe VERDI (1813-1901) 
          Stiffelio - Opera in three acts (1849) 
          Stiffelio, A Protestant minister of the Gospel - Roberto Aronica (tenor); 
          Lina, Stiffelio’s wife caught in adultery - Yu Guanqun (soprano); 
          Count Stankar, an elderly officer and Lina’s father - Roberto 
          Frontali (baritone); Jorg, an elderly minister - George Andguladze (bass); 
          Raffaele, a nobleman - Gabriele Magnione (tenor); Dorotea, Lina’s 
          cousin - Lorelay Solis (mezzo) 
          Orchestra and Chorus of the Teatro Regio, Parma/Andrea Battistona 
          Stage Director: Guy Momtavon 
          Set and Costume Designer: Francesco Calcagnini 
          Video Director: Tiziano Mancini 
          rec. live, Parma, Verdi Festival, 18 and 24 April 2012 
          Sound Formats: DTS-HD MA 5.1. PCM Stereo 
          Filmed in HD 1080i. Aspect ratio: 16:9 
          Booklet languages: English, German, French 
          Subtitles: Italian (original language), English, German, French, Spanish, 
          Chinese, Korean, Japanese 
          
C MAJOR 723104 
 
          [127:00 +10:00 bonus]
 
         This is numbered fifteen in the 
Tutto 
          Verdi (all Verdi) series. Despite the series name two operas are 
          missing. The present opera was, for a long time, thought lost. This 
          was a consequence of the composer choosing a socially sensitive subject 
          and having to make significant amendments to it before and after the 
          premiere. The background, history and re-emergence of this work in the 
          1960s is worth recounting. 
            
          The premiere of 
Luisa Miller in Naples in 1850 marked the end 
          of what Verdi called his 
anni di gallera: his years as a galley 
          slave. His contracted commitments included an opera for Ricordi, his 
          publisher. This was to be given in the autumn of 1850 in any Italian 
          theatre of the publisher’s choosing with the exception - at Verdi’s 
          continued insistence - of Milan’s La Scala. With time pressing 
          for the Ricordi commission Verdi proposed four subjects to Piave his 
          compliant librettist. Piave countered with a list including 
Stiffelius, 
          based on a French play. The story concerns a protestant minister whose 
          wife commits adultery in her husband’s absence. He forgives her 
          from the pulpit, choosing an apposite reading from the Bible. It is 
          a melodramatic story packed with human emotions and inter-relationships 
          as well as dramatic situations. Verdi’s success with intimate 
          relationships involved in his two previous operas, 
La Battaglia di 
          Legnano and 
Luisa Miller meant that he felt confident about 
          his capacity to deal with the story. Together with 
La Traviata, 
          
Stiffeliois the only Verdi opera on a contemporary 
          subject. 
            
          Piave and Verdi travelled to the then Austrian port city of Trieste 
          for the premiere. There they hit big opposition from the Catholic Church 
          who not only objected to the concept of a priest being a married man, 
          but also that the congregation were represented kneeling in prayer! 
          Further, Stiffelio’s quotation from 
The Sermon on the Mount, 
          as he publicly forgives his wife her adultery was forbidden, as was 
          her earlier address to her husband when she appeals to him as a minister, 
          not as her husband, 
Ministro, ministro confessateri (Minister, 
          minister, hear my confession). Verdi’s considered that the changes 
          demanded would emasculate the dramatic impact of the whole plot. He 
          agreed to compromises with the censors
as long as the dramatic 
          situation and the thrust of his music was not affected. 
            
          Later in his career and where compromise was not possible, as with 
Un 
          Ballo in Maschera, he might have packed his bags and taken his opera 
          elsewhere. However, with 
Stiffelio having been placed by Ricordi 
          this was not open to him despite his frustration and near incandescent 
          anger at the necessary revisions. The premiere on 16 November 1850 was 
          well received with press comments such as “tender melodies follow 
          on another in a most attractive manner”. All the performances 
          in Trieste were sold out with the church scene omitted in at least three 
          of them. In staging in other Italian cities 
Stiffelio was re-titled 
          
Guglielmo Wellingrode, its principal character no longer a 19
th 
          century protestant pastor, but instead a Prime Minister of a German 
          principality in the early 15
th century. As the Verdi scholar 
          Julian Budden notes (Verdi, Master Musicians Series, Dent, 1984) the 
          composer was used to having certain subjects rejected and seeing his 
          works bowdlerised when revived in Naples and the Papal States. This 
          was the first time, however, that he had suffered the mutilation of 
          a work at its premiere. He determined that he would find a way of making 
          it censor-proof. He first withdrew the work and in 1856, with Piave 
          altering the locale and period and with significant modifications and 
          additions to the music, it became the revised opera 
Aroldo. This 
          was premiered at the Teatro Nuovo, Rimini on 16 August 1857. 
            
          As was Verdi’s habit when revising a scene or aria, he removed 
          the revised or replaced pages from the manuscript autograph. To all 
          intents and purposes, 
Stiffelio ceased to exist as a performing 
          entity complete with orchestration. That said, vocal scores did remain 
          available. In the late 1960s, after orchestral parts for both 
Stiffelio 
          and its bowdlerised version 
Guglielmo Wellingrode came to light 
          in the Naples Conservatory, an integral performance of 
Stiffelio 
          became possible after one hundred and fifteen years. This took place 
          in a performing edition by Rubin Profeta in Parma on 26 December 1968 
          conducted by Peter Maag. An even better version of what Verdi wrote 
          is the basis of the 1979 Philips recording, part of their early Verdi 
          series under Lamberto Gardelli (422-432-2). 
            
          In 1992 planning was underway to celebrate Placido Domingo’s 25
th 
          anniversary of his Metropolitan Opera debut. After discussion with the 
          editors of 
The Works of Verdi, in Critical Editions, 
Stiffelio 
          was proposed with a planned premiere in October 1993 (see 
review). 
          By then Critical Editions of Verdi’s works were very much the 
          order of the day. High profile planning of the Critical Edition of Verdi’s 
          
Requiem, and its reception, induced the Verdi heirs, still residing 
          at his home in Busseto, to give access to the composer’s sketches 
          of 
Stiffelio. These they had, until then, jealously guarded and 
          access to
them had previously been denied. Scholars Philip Gossett 
          and Pierluigi Petrobelli studied these in February 1992. The sketches 
          and autograph revealed the composer’s true intentions in respect 
          of the words of the scenes before the censor had mangled them and, consequently, 
          the true intensity of the personal drama between Stiffelio and his wife. 
          Study of the sketches provided the basis for the Critical Edition prepared 
          by Kathleen Hansell which is used in this performance. 
            
          The singing cast here is superior to many in this series, albeit not 
          on a level with that at the Metropolitan Opera. Add a traditional production 
          in period costume, good direction, excellent sound and imaginative, 
          if sparse, stage sets. These elements come together to make a most desirable 
          issue of this too rarely performed work. It comes nineteenth in performances 
          among Verdi’s operas and three hundred and third overall. It deserves 
          better, especially when performed and staged as well as here. 
            
          With the young Andrea Battistona on the rostrum the orchestra play with 
          style and vigour. They bring out the dramatic nature of the work. As 
          ever in this series, the chorus of the Teatro Regia, Parma, are outstanding 
          in commitment. There is no weak link among the soloists with outstanding 
          acted and sung performances from Yu Guanqun as the erring wife and Roberto 
          Aronica as the cuckolded husband and minister who has to reconcile his 
          inner agony with his beliefs and practices. Both sing with power, good 
          characterisation and nicely nuanced phrasing. She conveys the agonies 
          of her own betrayal of the man she really loves with a passing philanderer 
          (CH.10). This is communicated again in her pleading with her husband 
          for forgiveness as a priest (CHs.20-21). Roberto Aronica also sings 
          strongly and has no difficulty with the tessitura. His slightly baritonal 
          tone comes with clarity of diction and a welcome and unforced ping. 
          He also has the capacity to sing softly, welcome among current tenors 
          in the Verdi repertoire. His body and facial acting is not up to the 
          standard of that of Yu Guanqun, but is satisfactory and convincing nonetheless, 
          particularly when he offers her a divorce and wants to kill her seducer 
          (CHs.29-31). 
            
          As Stankar, Lina’s father and the man who actually kills the seducer 
          Raffaele, Roberto Frontali acts well. He brings out the drama with his 
          strongly marked out enunciation and committed acting. Commendably, he 
          manages to stay in role despite the prolonged applause after his aria 
          (CHs.26-28). As the seducer, Gabriele Magnione, lyric tenor, looks suitably 
          foppish in his elegant garb among the darkly clad principals and chorus 
          (CH.4). As the old preacher Jorg, the bass George Andguladze, adds character 
          to his singing, despite being excessively bent. 
            
          At the conclusion the discerning Parma audience are rightly generous 
          in their appreciation. 
            
          
Robert J Farr