Whilst I was on my first visit to the Salzburg Festival this summer,
the opera production that everyone was talking about — and for which
mere mortals like I could not get a ticket — was
Trovatore
starring Netrebko and Domingo. Hence, when this film of the pair in a
Berlin production from last year appeared, I sought it out to see what
I was missing.
The main reason for picking up this DVD is
undoubtedly the performance of the two lead ladies. Netrebko, surely in
her vocal prime, is perfectly suited for the role of Leonora. Hers is
rich, thick voice, large scale when it is at its best. Thus it is
extremely welcome to see her moving into the dramatic Verdi roles,
which I’ve always suspected were her natural terrain, far more so than
the
bel canto material she has dabbled in of late. There is a luxuriant richness that makes her perfect for the two big arias and, in both
Tacea la notte and
D’amor sull’ali rosee
she uses the full majesty of her voice to tremendous effect. It’s
marvellous to hear the way she shades her voice to the role’s
requirements, and she can go from a thrilling climax to a delicate
pianissimo
in a heartbeat. She also has both the colour and the power required to
cut through the big ensembles, and she acts well through the director’s
concept, more of which below. In short, she is a triumph and well worth
seeking out.
Prudenskaya does every bit as good a job with
Azucena, managing to rise above the absurd costume she is given. Her
finest attribute is the way she uses her lower register, which is
nothing short of thrilling. From the moment she opens her mouth in
Stride la vampa,
she sends a bolt of lightning through both the music and the stage
action, ravishing in the lower writing but electrifying in the top
notes, most obviously when reliving the death of her son. She is also
beautiful in
Ai nostril monti, and her final shriek of triumph is thrilling.
Gaston Rivero is light of voice, so he doesn’t quite have the vocal
power an ideal Manrico needs. That said, he has a ringing quality that
is very appealing and which makes him distinctive in the company. The
only place he appears off colour is the first scene of Act 2, and
Mal reggendo,
in particular, sounds underplayed. Elsewhere, though, he is good
enough. The lesser roles are well taken, and Adrian Sâmpetrean’s
Ferrando is especially compelling, commanding and authoritative in the
scenes wherein he appears.
The most problematic element of
the set, however, is Domingo. I’ve never been convinced by his move to
a baritone and, since I expressed my doubts at
the Covent Garden Simon Boccanegra, I’ve only become more sure that I’m right. The fact remains that he is
not
a baritone, and when you compare him with some of the great Counts on
disc, the results are embarrassing. He has none of the heft of Milnes
or the beauty of Cappuccilli, both of whom partnered him in earlier
Trovatore
recordings: in fact, to my ears, this recording catches him sounding
nasal and even rather breathless at times. Frankly, he sounds like a
tenor singing down, even with an element of a beat to his voice, and it
is no credit to him to be spending his time singing roles like this.
Nobody should settle for a count sung like this, and Domingo is put to
shame by the high quality of his fellow singers.
It took a
while for me to warm to Barenboim’s direction, which can sound bitty,
but then it struck me that he is doing all he can to match the demands
of his singers. His tempi are slow and expansive for Netrebko’s big
arias, to reveal how well she can do them, but he speeds up
distractingly for Domingo’s big moments.
Il balen,
in particular, seems much too fast; but then I realised that he’s
probably doing it because he has to: Domingo’s breath control is far
from what it was and he probably can’t cope with anything slower. It’s
a shame for that aria, but it calls down glory on Barenboim who
confirms that he has a brilliant ability to read a musical situation
and to support his singers.
Philipp Stölzl’s production
goes out of its way to avoid taking the drama seriously. His single set
— an open cube with a few occasional video projections — and the lurid
technicolor of his costumes makes his singers seem like characters in a
comic strip, and that’s especially true of his Picaresque treatment of
the chorus. You can decide for yourself whether you like this or not,
but its most damaging effect is that any scenes where there’s a
possibility of dramatic involvement – most obviously, for me, Azucena’s
reliving of the death of her son – pass for nothing, with almost
Brechtian levels of alienation.
The picture and surround sound quality are very good, though there are
no extras. Still, despite the good work from the ladies, the finest
Trovatore on DVD remains
Karajan’s 1978 film from Vienna,
also featuring Domingo, but there captured in his prime as Manrico.
It’s old fashioned and idiosyncratic, but a thrilling memento of some
of the 20
th century’s greatest Verdi performers. They don’t make them like that any more.
Simon Thompson
Previous review (Blu-ray):
Robert Farr
