Legend
has it that a good Spanish opera is
rarer than a blue rose. It may seem
odd that the culture which inspired
a host of stage works as varied as Don
Giovanni, Carmen and Il
Trovatore has not to date produced
even one repertory standard of its own.
Of course in ignoring the fertile soil
of zarzuela, Legend leaves many beautiful
blooms out of the story. But the fact
remains that, apart from the one-acters
by de Falla and Granados's own Goyescas,
no Spanish opera has achieved international
fame.
Following on the rediscovery
of Albéniz's stage legacy, exhumation
of the unknown operas and zarzuelas
of his two great contemporaries seems
more likely. We're still waiting to
re-evaluate Falla's Los amores de
la Inéz or his other zarzuelas
on stage, and Granados's modernist experiments
such as the Catalan-language Liliana
and Blancaflor remain likewise
locked away in publishers' bottom drawers;
but last year Ireland's courageous Wexford
Festival revived his early opera María
del Carmen, the radio broadcast
of which Marco Polo has now transferred
to CD. Written in 1898 to a libretto
by the Catalan playwright Feli i Codina,
María del Carmen proved
a major success in Madrid, where royal
enthusiasm produced a Charles III Cross
for its composer. Despite a ruder reception
in Barcelona, due largely to its Murcian
popular setting and Castilian text -
not to mention that regal gong - many
critics applauded Granados's achievement,
particularly his skilful orchestration;
but apart from a 1935 Teatre Liceu revival
with Conchita Badia in the title role
his score continued to gather dust until
the Wexford staging.
On first hearing we
might sympathise with that Barcelona
audience's impatience as to the subject
matter, a stale slice of rustic chivalry
prettily disposed around the eternal
baritone-soprano-tenor triangle. The
plot reads like the later zarzuela La
pícara molinera minus the
mezzo-soprano femme fatale; but
its feeble dénouement, in which
the tenor, told by his doctor that he
hasn't long to live, renounces his beloved
María and hands her back to the
baritone, doesn't match the effectiveness
of Luna's late masterpiece. I can't
comment on the poetic quality of José
Feliu i Codina's text itself, because
Marco Polo don't provide it. Given that
seven pages of the booklet are given
over (quite properly) to performer listings
and biographies, to devote less than
two to the synopsis of an unknown work
seems a miscalculation. Justo Romero's
pithy essay does something to redress
the balance, but what would be acceptable
documentation on the sister Naxos label
is really not adequate at full price
here.
As to the meat of the
matter, Granados's through-written score
owes much less to zarzuela grande than
several writers have claimed, far more
to the harmonic and structural procedures
of Das Rheingold, filtered through
the prism of Spanish popular style.
Granados's admiration for the bold theatrical
strokes of Mascagni's ground-breaking
Cavalleria Rusticana (1999) is
equally evident. As in so many tentative
early operas by good composers, the
most individual and striking moments
come not in the shapeless principal
scenes, but in the musical set pieces.
Delicately orchestrated preludes, offstage
choral tone poems, wedding festivities
and religious processions all make their
mark; and of the solo numbers the heroine's
strophic entrance song, a bolero with
exquisite alhambrismo inflections,
stands out.
What Granados's mood
music does not provide is consistent
or distinct characters. María,
caught between loyalty to her favoured
(poor baritone) suitor and guilt towards
the (rich tenor) rival he has wounded
in a duel, does not fulfil her dramatic
potential. Her men emote and posture,
their music too etiolated to lift them
memorably off the page. Neither these
nor the supporting village types are
individual or iconic enough to come
to life. María del Carmen
is always tastefully scored, mellifluous
and refined; but like the early operas
of Granados's contemporary Delius it
fatally lacks a theatrical or dramatic
motor.
Shorn of visual trappings,
the singing at Wexford did not on this
evidence rise much above the routine.
Diana Veronese's soprano heroine is
warm but too wobbly to provide much
more than modified rapture, and neither
Dante Alcalá's neat, light tenor
nor Jesús Suaste's woolier baritone
contrive to make bricks from Granados's
vocal straw. The smaller roles are competently
sung, the choral and orchestral contributions
generally secure. Conductor Max Bragado-Darman
was responsible for the ICCMU critical
edition used here, and his wide experience
in the dusty purlieus of the Spanish
repertoire shows. Tempi and balances
are well judged, and his firm grip on
proceedings ensures we get a very good
idea of Granados's intentions and orchestral
mastery.
Is María
del Carmen that elusive blue rose?
Maybe stronger principals could make
out a better case, but on this evidence
it would seem Granados's favourite amongst
his own operas is more of a wilting
violet.
Christopher Webber
Wexford Festival Opera Chorus 
