When this 1994 recording
arrived for review I was caught in a
period of writing up notes from another
issue. As a consequence, and unusually
with a work new to me, I played the
opera through without any prior reading.
I was aware that Rosmonda was
premiered during a very creative period
of Donizetti’s compositional life, a
mere two months after Lucrezia Borgia,
ten months before Maria Stuarda and
eighteen months before Lucia di Lamermoor.
I was not, however, prepared for the
musical felicity and dramatic vitality
to be heard in Rosmonda. The
work may not have the melodic invention
of Lucia, which can justifiably
claim to be the first great Italian
Romantic opera, but its combination
of solos and duets are underpinned by
a high quality of musical invention
by the composer. Whilst William Ashbrook
and Julian Budden pass Rosmonda
by with only a mention in their chapter
in The New Grove ‘Masters of Italian
Opera’, Charles Osborne in his ‘The
Bel Canto Operas’ is more detailed but
not very complimentary. Whilst finding
virtue in Rosmonda’s act 2 cabaletta
Senza pace (CD 2 tr. 11), and
the dramatic finale (CD 2 trs. 19-20),
he reckons the finest number in the
whole score is her Torna, ah, torna,
a caro ogetto (CD 1 tr. 13). Fanny
Tacchinardi-Persiani, the 21-year-old
creator of the role could be thought
of as agreeing as she, also the creator
of Lucia, subsequently substituted the
aria, albeit with revised words, for
Regnave nel silenzo in the 1837
revival of Lucia. Donizetti himself
later appropriated it for the 1839 revision
of the latter opera for Paris where
it was presented, in French, as Lucie
di Lamermoor.
Rosmonda is
the 43rd title in the Donizetti
operatic oeuvre. Romani’s libretto was
an adaptation of his earlier writing
for Carlo Coccia whose 1829 opera of
the same name had not been a success.
The action takes place in England in
the second half of the 12th
century. Enrico (Henry II of England,
tenor) has returned from the wars to
the comforts of his mistress Rosmonda
Clifford (lyric coloratura soprano)
who knows him only by his name. Her
father (bass) informs her of her lover’s
true identity. Rosmonda is horrified,
but the King promises to make her Queen.
However, Leonora, his jealous wife (dramatic
soprano) kills her.
Seeing the name of
Renée Fleming in the cast, cynics
might wonder if in my initial response
I was seduced as much by her singing
as by the music itself. The singing
throughout the cast is of a uniformly
high standard in which Miss Fleming
stands primus inter pares (first
among equals). This recording was, I
believe, her first of a complete opera.
It was a momentous year for her. She
sang at Glyndebourne under Haitink and
recorded Fiordiligi live under Solti,
who said he fell in love with her voice.
She was scooped up into the Decca net,
much as Angela Gheorghiu was a couple
of years later after performances of
La Traviata at Covent Garden
under the same conductor. Just as studio
recordings of opera were imploding,
and contracts cancelled, Decca had the
two finest lyric sopranos of their generation
on their books. Fleming recorded Rusalka
and Thais in admired studio
recordings and diverged away from the
bel canto repertoire of her earlier
career into theatre performances of
Richard Strauss amongst others. I was
surprised to read, in a 2002 interview,
that she wished to delve again into
the bel canto repertoire. In
October 2002 the Met mounted Bellini’s
Il Pirata for her. I listened
to the matinee broadcast performance
from that series with interest and was
sadly disappointed. Yes, she floated
her voice along the Bellinean cantilena,
and to ethereal effect, but she failed
to convey the dramatic aspects of Imogene.
More than any other fach, the bel
canto repertoire has to be sung
into the voice and kept there by regular
practice, preferably in theatre performance.
Given Fleming’s florid virtuosity heard
in this recording, I venture that had
she maintained her links with Opera
Rara, as many have done including the
other singers here, her discography
of complete operas would be significantly
more extensive than it is.
Whilst Fleming’s fresh
voiced singing is dazzling in the coloratura
pyrotechnics, and in her shaping of
the cavatinas that are realised with
the most persuasive expressiveness,
hers is not the only virtuoso singing
on the set. The virtuosity is share
in the duet with Arturo, the page, a
travesty role sung by Diana Montague
(CD 2 trs. 6-8). Montague’s excellent
vocal and musical virtuosity is further
reinforced in Arturo’s solo (CD 2 trs.
6-8). As her lover Enrico, Bruce Ford
sings with the utmost mellifluousness
and expressiveness. Whilst he always
phrases with care for the vocal line,
his performance here is the best I have
heard from him in any of his recordings
for Opera Rara or elsewhere. He also
encompasses the varying emotions demanded
in his duets with Clifford (CD 1 trs.
8-10), his wife (CD 2 trs. 2-5) and
Rosmonda (CD 2 trs. 12-15) as well as
the drama of the finale as his wife
stabs his lover. The role of Leonora
is tailor-made for Nelly Miricioiu’s
vocal qualities of dramatic inflection,
nuance and variation of colour. These
vocal qualities are heard to particularly
good effect in Leonora’s duets with
her husband (CD 2 trs. 12-15) and then
Rosmonda (CD 2 trs. 16-18). The latter
confrontation is not without its reminders
of that between Queen Elisabeth and
Mary Stuart in Donizetti’s next opera,
Maria Stuarda, premiered at La
Scala ten months after Rosmonda. Nelly
Miricioiu’s ability to vary the weight
and colour of her voice, across its
range, allows for a wholly convincing
characterisation of the wronged and
vengeful woman. The ability to convey
character and situation is also heard
in Alastair Miles’ well-tuned bass as
Clifford, Rosmonda’s father. As always
his singing is elegant, expressive and
sonorous as can be heard in Clifford’s
duets; first with the king (CD 1 trs.
8-10) and then his daughter when he
tells her of her lover’s identity and
reproaches her (CD 1 trs. 15-16).
I have enthused at
some length on the quality of the singing,
which is matched by the stylish conducting
of David Parry who balances the lyrical
and dramatic pulses to good effect.
The singing of the chorus and well-balanced
recording contribute to the overall
excellence of this issue. If the music
is as good as I contend, it is justifiable
to ask why did the opera, which was
well received at its premiere, disappear
from the repertoire within a few years
of its composition until revived by
Opera Rara for concert performances
in London and Belfast in 1975? In an
extensive and scholarly booklet essay
(pp 9-62) Jeremy Commons makes some
suggestions. He recounts the many related
problems in deriving this performing
edition of the work from a much-amended
manuscript that only fifty years ago
was believed lost. The booklet also
has a complete libretto with translation
in English.
For those who have
no affinity for Donizetti’s works, but
are in love with Renée Fleming’s
voice, there is a highlights issue that
focuses on her contribution (ORR 214).
Of others, only the truly impecunious
should go down that path. Lovers of
bel canto and Donizetti’s serious
operas, and who already have Lucia
di Lamermoor, Lucrezia Borgia
and Maria Stuarda, should
make this performance the next Donizetti
to be added to their collection. I cannot
conceive that it will ever be bettered.
It represents the apotheosis of musicological
research and performance. It illuminates
a composer’s work and the performers’
realisation in a manner too rarely achieved.
To have it on record is a privilege
with the guarantee of rich enjoyment.
Robert J Farr
Geoffrey Mitchell Choir 
