Jules MASSENET (1842-1912)
Roma – opera in five acts (1909) [2:09:01]
Fausta – Iano Tamar (soprano)
Posthumia – Svetlana Arginbaeva (contralto)
Junia – Francesca Franzil (soprano)
The Grand Vestal -Angela Masi (soprano)
Galla – Carmelita Mitchell (soprano)
Lentulus – Warren Mok (tenor)
Fabius Maximus – Nicolas Rivenq (baritone)
Vestapor – Jean Vendassi (baritone)
Lucius Cornélius – Francesco Ellero d’Artegna (bass)
An old man – Giacomo Rochetti (baritone)
Bratislava Chamber Choir
Orchestra Internazionale d’Italia/Marco Guidarini
rec. live, 23, 25 & 27 July 1999, Palazzo Ducale, Martina Franca, Italy
DYNAMIC CDS267/1-2 [68:28 + 60:33]
The Italian record label Dynamic regularly issues live recordings of operatic rarities which have been exhumed and revitalised via performance at the Festival della Valle d’Itria in Martina Franca. This first recording of Roma is typical of their enterprise. It was originally released in 2000 but has not previously been reviewed on the MusicWeb site. It is currently on sale on Amazon for silly sums but is still also available at a reasonable price from some regular classical music sellers such as Presto and Arkiv.
Roma was the twenty-second of Massenet’s twenty-five opera and the last whose premiere he attended, in 1912, the year of his death; the remaining three were posthumously produced. As a Massenet devotee, I am always surprised by the sheer variety of his output: one opera can be completely different in genre and idiom from its antecedent or successor, and here we have the composer making yet another departure from previous works by venturing, like Donizetti with Poliuto or Mercante in Orazi e Curiazi, into the world of classical Rome with a subject matter wholly unlike those works for which he is most celebrated. Indeed, I think any listener without prior knowledge would be hard-pushed to identify him as the composer of Roma; the prelude and opening crowd scene have more of Saint-Saëns’ Samson et Dalila about
them, the pervasive chromaticism owes more to Wagner and there is nothing in its style which particularly shouts “Massenet” apart from its through-composed character – and even that seems more disjointed than usual, the opera having a rather episodic nature. There is little of the Romantic lyricism which typifies Werther or the sparkling, neo-classical charm of Manon or the exoticism and eroticism of Thaïs. The rousing overture and lovely Introductions to the ensuing acts are, however, more redolent of the tuneful Massenet we know from those operas, featuring lovely violin and flute solos especially reminiscent of Thaïs – and that air for flute returns a few minutes later to accompany very effectively Lentulus’ love aria “Je vais la voir”. Otherwise, the opera is strong on atmosphere but sometimes feels short on melodic invention, as if Massenet never hits his stride. Memorable arias are few and one mostly waits in vain for the kind of “hit tune” which marks his most celebrated operas. A highlight, however, is the Act 3 duet between vestal virgin Fausta and military tribune Lentulus whose tension is the product of the conflict between love and duty which always spurred on Massenet to produce his best music – think des Grieux in Manon, Athanaël in Thaïs and Charlotte in Werther. Nonetheless there are also barren stretches where Massenet seems to lack inspiration and is note-spinning. The potentially dramatic appal for mercy by Posthumia for her niece in Act 5 is a case in point, as it goes for little; Ponchielli and Giordano had already done rather better with the interventions of their blind old ladies, la Cieca and la vecchia Madelon respectively – but fruity contralto Svetlana Arginbaeva manages to extract the maximum impact from what she is given. In fact, the quality of the music improves as the opera proceeds: Act 5 opens with a fine vocal entr’acte and goes on to constitute the most dramatically and musically satisfying section of the work, so if you are a Massenet fan, I advise you to persevere.
I have enjoyed the big, lush, plush voice of Georgian soprano Iano Tamar in everything I have previously heard her sing; she does not in fact have that much to sing beyond the aforementioned love duet and a big Act 5 aria which develops into an impressive ensemble, but her smoky timbre, trenchant lower register, shining top and sound dramatic instincts are sufficient to excuse fleeting moments of insecurity when her vibrato loosens. The cast in general is really quite good; the non-native speakers singing passable French and are mostly devoid of the dreaded wobble, although Arginbaeva, despite having a rich timbre, comes close to having a bit of a flap in her voice. Baritone Nicolas Rivenq has the advantage of being French and sings neatly and firmly, but his voice is quite small. Similarly, French bass-baritone Jean Vendassi as the Gaulois slave displays fine diction and a good legato line but he sings with considerably more power than Rivenq and is one of the most impressive singers here. Macau-born Warren Mok has a keen, penetrating tenor and he sings with great stamina but his vibrato can occasionally edge into tremolo territory. Bass Francesco Ellero d’Artegna portrays the impassive souverain pontife Lucius with grave depth and dignity, such that he emerges as akin to the Pope in Berlioz’ Benvenuto Cellini or the Cardinal in Halévy’s La Juive. Francesca Franzil sings particularly attractively as the vestal virgin Junia; there is something of the nuns in Suor Angelica about her Act 2 narrative. You may divine from the number of connections I have made with other operas that one keeps hearing indications both of how Alexandre Parodi, the playwright from whose work the libretto was derived, the librettist Henri Cain and the composer himself all seem to have borrowed elements from previous successful stageworks, such as the love between a priestess and a soldier in Norma and the entombment alive which concludes Aida and how Massenet’s craft must have influenced successors like Puccini. The frequency of these allusions, both past and to come, perhaps indicates the rather random and desultory nature of Roma, as if Massenet could never quite settle on a style.
This being a composite live recording assembled from the best of three performance, balances are sometimes fleetingly awry and there is occasionally some underlying, extraneous traffic noise, but those are negligible issues; for the most part the sound is fine. A booklet with a note and synopsis in four languages and a French libretto with English translation is a welcome luxury.
Roma is by no means one of Massenet’s finest works but it offers intrinsic interest and considerable musical merit - and more than 20 years on, we haven’t got another opportunity than this live recording to hear it.
Ralph Moore
