Gioachino ROSSINI (1792-1868) 
          Zelmira (1822) [155.10] 
          Cecilia Gasdia (soprano) - Zelmira; William Matteuzzi (tenor) - Ilio; 
          Chris Merritt (tenor) - Antenore; Bernarda Fink (mezzo) - Emma; José 
          Garcia (bass) - Polidoro; Boaz Senator (bass) - Leucippo; Vernon Midgley 
          (tenor) - Eacide; Leslie Fyson (baritone) - High Priest of Jove 
          Ambrosian Singers; I Solisti Veneti/Claudio Scimone 
          rec. Teatro Olimpico, Vicenza, July 1989 
          WARNER CLASSICS 2564 64677-8 [77.03 + 77.07]
        
         During the 1980s Claudio Scimone, the Rossini enthusiast 
          and scholar, made a whole sheaf of recordings of rare Rossini operas 
          for various labels. This was the penultimate of these issues, featuring 
          the same three principals as in several other of these sets. It gave 
          us the first studio reading of Rossini’s penultimate Italian opera 
          - the last of the series of operas the composer wrote for Naples before 
          his departure for Paris, during which he made a number of experiments 
          with both the form and style of his music. Zelmira is an interesting 
          work which, following its Naples première was performed in Vienna 
          and London. Its subsequent neglect was undeserved, even though some 
          of Rossini’s more interesting innovations in the score had already 
          been anticipated in his earlier Naples operas. One example is the interruption 
          of the orchestral prelude by the male chorus, a device which he had 
          already employed in Ermione. The work has other parallels with 
          that earlier work, being set similarly during the mythological period 
          of the Trojan War. The equally neglected Ermione has been substantially 
          rehabilitated during recent years, including a production at Glyndebourne; 
          but it has the advantage of being based on a well-made adaptation by 
          Andrea Leone Tottila of a play by Racine which has some real dramatic 
          force. Zelmira has a plot, also adapted by Tottila, whose ridiculously 
          convoluted back-history would make even Wagner at his most prolix hesitate. 
          The main theme of the action is founded on a ridiculous farrago of false 
          accusations and misunderstandings which make one totally lose patience 
          with the wimpish behaviour of the two principals. Their total failure 
          to communicate with each other about the most basic matters makes one 
          fear for the future of their married relationship at the final curtain. 
          
            
          Nonetheless Rossini gave these two principals, and their fellow singers, 
          some really good music to get their teeth into. There are some delightfully 
          original touches too, such as the accompaniment for cor anglais and 
          harp for Zelmira’s cavatina Perchè mi guardi (CD 
          1, track 16) and the skirling woodwind over the trombones in the Act 
          One finale. Having said which, the best music of all is that written 
          for the villainous Antenore who, not content with having usurped the 
          throne of Lesbos and murdered his predecessor, now seeks to pin responsibility 
          for his crimes on the innocent Zelmira and her gullible betrothed Ilio. 
          The part was written for Andrea Nozzari, a tenor who had an extraordinary 
          range which extended well into the baritone register. Rossini takes 
          full advantage of this, writing passages for the voice which veer from 
          the highest notes to the lowest with startling effect. The writing has 
          a certain generic similarity to that for Mozart’s Fiordiligiin 
          Così fan tutte. Having recently witnessed several unconvincing 
          attempts by sopranos in the Cardiff Young Singer of the World to encompass 
          that range in Come scoglio, one is not altogether surprised 
          to find even a singer like Chris Merritt struggling to come to terms 
          with the see-sawing vocal lines he is asked to attempt. Merritt’s 
          baritonal lower notes oddly enough come off better than his high ones, 
          which are not free of a degree of strain. Still, one wonders who else 
          at the time of recording could even have attempted the part so convincingly. 
          
            
          By comparison, the parts for the two principals are fairly straightforward 
          - if one means by this that they stick to their normal registers. Mind 
          you, the register for William Matteuzzi as Ilio is very high indeed. 
          It is creditable that he makes it all sound so easy and natural as he 
          soars into the stratosphere. Cecilia Gasdia is also completely unfazed 
          by all the difficulties in the title role, even though she is unable 
          to make the character much more than the put-upon milksop she so clearly 
          is. Bernarda Fink is superlative in the role of Zelmira’s confidante. 
          José Garcia as the deposed King - who came in for some stick 
          from earlier critics, notably in the Penguin Guide and Fanfare 
          - seems to me to be quite adequate in what is after all a fairly small 
          part. Boaz Senator is steadier in the other bass role of the villainous 
          henchman. The other parts are mere ciphers, but the chorus and orchestra 
          are assured and capable under the baton of Claudio Scimone. Despite 
          some very fast speeds he seems to relish the discovery of the music 
          and has clearly prepared the performance with care and understanding. 
          The recording sessions had been preceded by concert performances in 
          Venice, but Gasdia and Merritt had both sung their roles onstage in 
          Rome earlier in the same year and their experience clearly shows. 
            
          There was an earlier recording of Zelmira conducted by Carlo 
          Franci, but this made substantial cuts in the music. Here we are given 
          a more complete edition edited by Scimone which also includes additional 
          material written for Emma by Rossini for the Vienna production. This 
          makes for two very full CDs and there is a very odd solution for the 
          problem this creates with the break between the discs. The chorus which 
          opens the Act One finale is given at the end of the first disc; the 
          succeeding recitative for Antenore is then faded out as it begins. The 
          second disc opens with a fade-in of the closing bars of the same chorus 
          after which the recitative then continues normally. I note that David 
          Johnson in Fanfare complained bitterly about this procedure in 
          the original Erato release, suggesting that a clean break should have 
          been made at the end of the chorus. On the other hand, the inevitable 
          artificiality of getting up to change the CD would then have interrupted 
          the continuity of the music no less disastrously. Given the evident 
          desire to fit the whole opera onto two CDs, the Erato solution, reduplicated 
          in this reissue, might be seen as the lesser of two evils. Not that 
          I suspect the engineers at Warner even considered the matter when dealing 
          with this reissue, which simply replicates the track layout of the original 
          discs. The reissue completely omits the substantial booklet material 
          - including an essay on the edition employed by Scimone - which came 
          with the Erato release. This also contained the libretto in four languages. 
          Instead we are given only a very basic cued synopsis which occupies 
          a mere page and a half. It hardly helps the listener to come to terms 
          with the plot - such as it is. By the way, I can find no trace of an 
          original Greek myth on which the scenario is based. It seems to have 
          been entirely the uninspired invention of the French playwright Dormont 
          de Belloy (1727-75), otherwise known only for a later play on the subject 
          of the siege of Calais. 
            
          The principal competition for this set comes from an absolutely complete 
          2004 recording for Opera Rara. However, it has to be said that the singing 
          on that recording is generally rather less assured than in this Scimone 
          issue. Bruce Ford is generally the equal of Merritt, although his lower 
          register is weaker; but the reedy-voiced Antonio Siragusa totally lacks 
          Matteuzzi’s ease with the high tessitura. Elisabeth Futral 
          is no more able than Gasdia to make the character of Zelmira herself 
          interesting. The main advantage of the Opera Rara set is that the recording 
          is spread over three discs - a considerable amount of the additional 
          playing time being required for applause from the enthusiastic audience 
          at the live concert performance. This obviates the break in the Act 
          One finale. Whether one will regard the acquisition of a third CD as 
          sufficient warrant for preferring this may be debatable. There is a 
          modern-dress production on DVD and Blu-Ray conducted by Roberto Abbado, 
          which I have not seen; this needs no break to be made in the music, 
          and the cast looks very interesting if the production is acceptable. 
          Otherwise, this current reissue will do very nicely as a representative 
          Zelmira for the library shelf. It is good to have it back in 
          circulation despite the noted reservations. 
            
          Paul Corfield Godfrey