Giacomo PUCCINI (1858-1924)
La fanciulla del West (1910) [140.00]
Nina Stemme (soprano) - Minnie; Aleksandrs Antonenko (tenor) -
Johnson; John Lundgren (baritone) - Rance; John Erik Eleby (bass) - Jake
Wallace; Agneta Lundgren (mezzo) - Wowkle; Alar Pintsaar (bass) - Billy
Jackrabbit; Niklas Björling Rygert (tenor) - Nick; Karl Rombo (tenor) -
Trin; Kristian Flor (tenor) - Happy; Magnus Khyle (tenor) - Joe; Olia
Eliasson (baritone) - Sonora; Linus Börjesson (baritone) - Bello; Conny
Thimander (baritone) - Harry; Anton Eriksson (baritone) - Castro; Michael
Schmidberger (bass) - Ashby; Gunnar Lundberg (bass) - Sid; Ian Power (bass)
- Larkens; Jon Nilsson (tenor) - Pony Express rider
Royal Swedish Opera Male Chorus and Orchestra/Pier Giorgio Morandi
rec. Royal Swedish Opera House, February 2012
Director: Hannes Rossacher
Stage Director: Christoph Loy
Picture Format: NTSC
Sound Formats: PCM Stereo; Dolby Digital 5.1
Region Code: 0
Subtitles: Italian, English, German, French, Spanish, Japanese
Booklet Notes: English, German, French
16:9 shot in 1080i HD; stereo and 5.1 surround sound
co-production of BFMI, SVT and Unitel Classica
EUROARTS DVD 2072598 [140.00]
Whenever I hear a performance of
La fanciulla del West I am
always tempted to think of it as Puccini’s greatest opera - Puccini
thought so, too. I am mystified by the fact that it is regarded as falling
firmly into Puccini’s ‘second league’, failing to match
Bohème,
Tosca,
Madam Butterfly or
Turandot
in popular favour. Perhaps the long series of brief cameo scenes which
launch the First Act may go on for rather too long, although in this
performance the scene featuring Billy Jackrabbit is omitted. Once Minnie and
Johnson are dancing together, the score comes to life and maintains
blistering heat for the rest of the evening. The idea of Californian gold
prospectors singing in Italian has sometimes been cited as an obstacle; but
we willingly accept historical characters in other operas singing in
languages other than their own, so why not here?
Apart from the matter of language, Puccini’s
Fanciulla
is so closely linked to the American West that it tends thankfully to defy
any attempts to shift its location elsewhere - not that this has always
stopped producers trying. In terms of period it is more flexible. Puccini
specifies the date as 1849, the date of the Californian gold rush; but in
his otherwise highly realistic production for the Metropolitan Opera
Giancarlo del Monaco had a photograph of Abraham Lincoln above the bar of
the
Polka saloon, thus dating the period to some time after 1860.
Here the patterned wallpaper on the walls of Minnie’s room - not to
mention the high heels she dons for her assignation with Dick Johnson -
place the action somewhere in the early 1900s. Christof Loy goes one step
further than del Monaco in the realism stakes by playing a film of Minnie
riding across the American plains - somewhere further east than California -
in the best Hollywood Western style. One wonders what will happen when
another singer takes over the part, since we see Nina Stemme in close-up
during this sequence.
The film element is preserved throughout, with cameras focused on
the singers and projecting them in close-up onto a screen at the back at
various dramatic high points. This might seem to be distracting, especially
when the video director here concentrates on the film rather than the live
singers. In point of fact it works quite well even when it does lend a
slightly self-conscious element of artificiality to proceedings. What are
less satisfactory are the stage sets. The
Polka appears to be a very
down-at-heel establishment, almost totally devoid of any decoration. Minnie
is shown to have a small office on the left of the proscenium where she is
seen reacting to the action on the main stage long before her official
entrance into proceedings. Her cabin in the mountains is a rather more
luxurious establishment than we are accustomed to; apart from the wallpaper,
it also runs to a back bedroom, an attic accessed by a ladder - needed for
the plot - and a front hall complete with places where visitors can leave
their coats. There is a nice touch when, having curled up in front of the
fire, Minnie suddenly jumps into bed with Johnson before they are
interrupted. This is clearly less of a virginal maiden than the hard-bitten
Girl we usually encounter.
Where this setting for production really falls down however is in
the final Act. Both del Monaco at the Met and Piero Faggioni at Covent
Garden - the only other video of this opera I have seen - relocate the scene
from the forest clearing specified by Puccini to a semi-ruined mining
settlement. This not only contradicts the references in the text to the
forest but fails to provide a stage picture to match Puccini’s
atmospheric opening bars. Here we seem to be back in the
Polka
tavern, now shuttered up and with its furniture removed. Again we see Minnie
in her little office, seemingly oblivious to the gathering furore of the
lynch mob activity which is taking place just the other side of the wall.
When Nick bribes Billy to ‘go slow’ with the preparations for
the hanging, he doesn’t go off to bring Minnie to the rescue, he
simply stands guard over her office door. This makes one wonder how she
manages to turn up in the nick of time, not that she had far to come in this
setting. The grand spectacle of her arrival - in the original performances
Minnie used to ride in on horseback - is completely lost, and not all the
spectacular orchestral outbursts in the world can rescue it.
This is a pity, because otherwise this production is really very
good indeed. The various prospectors and miners, who can all too easily
coalesce into a background of picturesque characters, have real
individuality and personalities. The look of Trin’s face during
Minnie’s ‘bible lesson’ is a picture of innocence. Nick
the barman becomes quite a forceful personality. Wowkle becomes a positively
engaging character when she is so obviously keen on getting Minnie and
Johnson into bed together.
Even so, any performance of
Fanciulla clearly stands or falls
by its three principals, and here the Royal Swedish Opera score highly. Nina
Stemme is, as I have observed, a more knowing Minnie than usual, but she
brings that interpretation off well and without ever betraying the character
as presented in the music. John Lundgren as Rance is properly ambiguous,
tormented by jealousy and rage but still at heart a gentleman. Aleksandrs
Antonenko is perhaps rather too well-upholstered to be convincing as a
starving Mexican bandit in disguise; but he has an engaging manner and an
expressive face. He even manages to make his fainting fit believable.
Fanciulla was Puccini’s first-ever opera to have a
happy ending, although one does wonder how the two lovers who have already
demonstrated such a readiness to cheat and lie are going to keep their
relationship together in the future. Giancarlo del Monaco at the Met focused
on Rance’s despair at the final curtain, which is wrong in the context
of Puccini’s serenely happy music. Here Rance retires into
Minnie’s office and sits thunderstruck at her desk, and is seen no
more.
In terms of musical values, this recording rates very highly indeed.
It has long been a fashion for Wagnerian sopranos to take on the role of the
Girl - Emmy Destinn created the part, and Birgit Nilsson recorded it in the
1950s. Nina Stemme here stands well in that line. Some of the highest notes
clearly tax her resources but then that is largely Puccini’s fault in
that he does not allow his soprano much time to work up to these. Antonenko
as her lover produces some excellent sounds, rich and plangent and full of
expressive detail. He is not frightened to sing quietly when the opportunity
offers, making a refreshing change from the bull-in-a-china-shop approach of
earlier singers such as Mario del Monaco. John Lundgren is not given the
same freedom of expression by the composer but he makes the most of what he
has and his voice is rich and well-sustained. The rest of the cast contains
no weak links, right down to the ‘camp minstrel’ of John Erik
Eleby who floats his nostalgic song beautifully and rightly breaks the heart
of his listeners.
The chorus sing lustily and firmly throughout, given individual
characterisation by the production. At the same time they float their
offstage humming at the end of Act One with real sensitivity and finesse.
Pier Giorgio Morandi in the pit conjures up a real storm from the orchestra,
never pulling Puccini’s massively dramatic punches, but also bringing
out much detail in the often impressionistic writing. Indeed musically this
DVD is superior to the Met production conducted by Leonard Slatkin, and were
it not for the stage design for the final Act it would deserve unqualified
praise.
Paul Corfield Godfrey