Late 17th
century Italy was the birthplace of
opera. In the following century the
genre extended north and eastwards over
the Alps to today’s Germany, where it
flourished, and westward to France and
England for a slower evolution. By the
early 1800s opera was a dominant art
form in Italy. The major centres of
Milan, Naples, Venice and Rome each
had at least two, and often three, theatres
presenting opera. Singers came from
Spain (Isobel Colbran, later to become
Rossini’s wife and Manuel Garcia) and
elsewhere. Many composers competed to
furnish the demands of the theatres
of Italy for new works. Following the
premiere of Tancredi at Venice’s La
Fenice in February 1813, Rossini was
in a pre-eminent position, a situation
he quickly consolidated with L’Italiana
in Algeri in May of the same year. At
this time Donizetti was still a student
of the eminent teacher, scholar and
composer Simone Mayr. He went on to
spend two years studying, in Bologna
at Mayr’s expense, with Padre Mattei
a renowned teacher of counterpoint.
As Donizetti’s 21st
birthday approached an eminent citizen
of his native Bergamo bought his exemption
from military service and with Mayr’s
help he was contracted to write a two
act opera for the Teatro San Luca, a
minor theatre in Venice. This work,
Enrico di Borgogna, premiered on November
14th 1816, was his third
opera but the first to be performed
in his lifetime. Music from Enrico can
be heard on an Opera Rara issue titled
‘The
Young Donizetti’ as can that of
his fifth work, Le nozze in villa and
his sixth Pietro il Grande. With the
latter, Donizetti secured his first
real success, the work going on to be
performed in at least four other Italian
cities as well as enjoying a second
Venetian production in 1827. However,
it was with his seventh opera, Zoraida
Di Granata premiered in Rome in 1822
that the young Donizetti made his decisive
breakthrough into the career of a full
time composer. The resounding success
of the opera came despite the recurrence
of a similar misfortune to that which
befell his Enrico. The prima donna,
making her stage debut, was so overcome
that she fainted at the end of act 1
and was forced to omit an aria and two
duets in act 2 before being replaced
by a ‘seconda donna’! In Zoraida Di
Granata misfortune began prior to the
premiere, when the young tenor contracted
for the role of Abenamet burst a blood
vessel in his throat and died within
a few weeks. With no replacement available
to sing the high-lying tessitura, Donizetti
hastily re-wrote the role for contralto
and in doing so he had to omit several
items written for the tenor. In addition
to these travails Donizetti had also
to overcome the machinations of his
fellow composer, and competitor, Pacini,
who sought to undermine the production,
as he had the works of other composers.
This was despite the success of his
own opera that preceded Zoraida Di Granata
at the theatre. The details of the alterations
that Donizetti had to make for the first
performance of the opera are given in
Jeremy Commons’ very detailed booklet
essay (pp. 13-63). It is important to
point out, lest it be missed in the
detail of that essay, that the 1822
version recorded here is the work as
Donizetti originally intended it to
be performed, that is with two tenors
and the omissions of the premiere re-instated.
As such this recording is probably the
first performance of the composer’s
original intentions.
The decision makers,
sponsors and staff at Opera Rara are
serious musicologists as well as enthusiasts.
Not content with recording Donizetti’s
first intentions they add, as an extended
appendix, the major additions and changes
the composer made to the work when it
was given, at the same theatre, in 1824.
In the revised version the role of Abenamet
was actually intended for contralto,
but one whose status, vocal qualities
and demands were far greater than the
late substitute singer of the first
production. Donizetti had to re-write
the tenor arias originally omitted and
add several numbers, most notably an
extended scene in act 2 for Abenamet
and Almuzir (CD 4 trs. 7-10) and an
extended aria and cabaletta for the
contralto in the finale (CD 4 trs 14-15).
The original libretto was by Bartolomeo
Merelli, poet for two of Donizetti’s
earlier works. Morelli later became
an impresario. His greatest contribution
to Italian opera was to press on the
young Verdi the libretto of Nabucco
when the composer, in despair at the
death of his wife and two children,
and the failure of his opera Un giorno
di regno, had decided to forsake music.
Donizetti was present at the highly
successful premiere of Nabucco and made
favourable comments on the music. Jacopo
Ferretti carried out the necessary re-writing
of the libretto of the 1824 version
of Zoraide, albeit rather too slowly
for Donizetti’s patience. As well as
extended discussion of the differences
in the two versions in Jeremy Commons’
essay, the differences are also given,
side by side, in tabular form (pp. 64-68).
The story of Zoraida
Di Granata concerns the murderous and
duplicitous Almuzir who wishes to marry
Zoraida, the daughter of the late king
who in turn loves Abenamet the victorious
General of the Moors. To save Abenamet
from the sentence of death passed on
him consequent to the machinations of
Almuzir, Zoraida agrees to the marriage.
She survives Abenamet’s doubts as to
her fidelity and somewhat implausibly
is allowed to marry him.
The orchestrally lean
version of 1822 is, as might be expected,
more stylistically cohesive than the
1824 revision. The music of the revision
is certainly more complex, and in some
instances, imaginative. Some scholars
have suggested it is more Rossinian.
Be that as it may, in this Opera Rara
issue, the 1824 revisions and additions
benefit from the singing of Diana Montague
as Abenamet. She is no contralto as
we define that voice type today. Rather
she is a flexible lyric mezzo with a
wide range and variety of vocal colour
over her considerable range. Miss Montague
uses this colour, allied to smooth legato
and clear diction to bring to life the
additions and modifications of the 1824
revision, most notably the cavatina
and cabaletta Era mia…Che mi giova
(CD 3 trs13-14), the duet with Almuzir
(CD 4 trs. 7-10) and final aria Quando
un alma generosa (CD 4 trs. 14-15).
It seems rather remiss of Opera Rara
that Diana Montague’s participation
as Abenamet is only noted, at least
as far as I can see, in the captions
to the photographs of her on pages 173
and 202 of the booklet!
In the favourable contemporary
reviews of the 1822 premiere much praise
was bestowed on Domenico Donzelli as
Almuzir. It was noted that his baritonal
tenor carried his chest register notably
high. Similar strengths are found here
with Bruce Ford’s singing. I would not
describe him as a baritonal tenor, rather
a true tenor with an unusually wide
range, full-toned and strong at both
extremes. These vocal strengths can
be heard throughout both versions. A
fine example of his range, expressiveness,
and full voiced and sotto voce singing
is to be heard in the aria Amarlo
tento (CD 3 trs. 3-4). In a perfect
world his voice would have a little
more sap; there is the occasional touch
of dry tone. That being said, there
are few other singers around of such
musicality and who understand and can
realise the demands of this repertoire.
As the tenor Abenamet of the 1822 version,
Paul Austin Kelly sings the demanding
music with pleasing tone, good diction
and expression. He is particularly impressive
in his long act 2 aria (CD 2 trs. 8-9)
and scena (CD 2 trs. 10 and 13-16) where
his portrayal of Abenamet’s agony in
prison, and dilemma at the price Zoraida
has paid for his release, is wholly
conveyed. Likewise his skills in the
earlier cavatina and cabaletta when
he takes the concluding high note from
the chest are impressive (CD 1 trs.
14-16) as is his range in the dramatic
quartet Tanto propormi ardisei?
as Abenamet refuses Almuzir’s request
to cede Zoraida’s heart to him (CD 1
tr. 19). This is Donizetti writing at
its very best and David Parry’s conducting
is appropriately dramatic although at
other points I feel he lingers too much.
In this quartet and the following adagio
and stretta (CD 1 trs. 20-21) the teamwork
involved is very much in evidence and
highly impressive. Also evident here,
as elsewhere, are the vocal capabilities
and contribution of Majella Cullagh
as Zoraida. In her earlier cavatina,
Vieni oh vieni and cabaletta
(CD 1 trs 7-8), I was greatly impressed
by the freedom and power of her singing.
She reminds me of the young Joan Sutherland
and if she hasn’t quite got the easy
trill or pinpoint coloratura of the
great diva, she has a commendable wide
palette of vocal colour. Most importantly
her singing is not mere display having
both expression and feeling. It would,
however, be further enhanced by clearer
diction and attention to consonants.
None the less, Majella Cullagh’s contribution
to the success of this recording is
significant and bodes great promise
as well as realisation.
The recorded sound
is pleasantly ambient and clear with
the voices more forward than in some
Opera Rara issues. The singing of the
chorus is wholly idiomatic and vibrant
whilst those taking the minor parts
do so with aplomb. Much of this opera
marks Donizetti’s first manifestation
of musical genius. It provides a significant
marker on his journey to greatness whilst
having within it much to enjoy for its
own sake. The 1824 revisions can be
enjoyed for their own sake as well as
providing quick and easy comparison
of the rapid evolution of Donizetti’s
maturing style, whether or not it was
influenced by Rossini. The totality
of the two editions of the opera provide
much enjoyable listening, complemented
by fine singing, and which can be enjoyed
by all lovers of this fertile and seminal
period of operatic composition in Italy.
I recommend it without reservation as
a worthy addition to the expanding availability
of Donizetti’s operas on disc and which
owes so much to Opera Rara’s research
work and the support of the Peter Moores
Foundation.
Robert J Farr
Abenamet, Diana Montague (mezzo) 
