La Traviata is now recognised not merely as one of Verdi’s finest
operas, but one of the lyric theatre's greatest music dramas. It is
the most performed opera with Mozart’s
Magic Flute coming a close
second in the popularity ratings. No company worth its salt has failed to
put on a production despite the vocal challenges facing the eponymous
heroine and their considerable diversity across the three acts. As an
appendix to this review I give something of the background to the opera and
its composition.
The story of
La Traviata is both stark and bleak and not that
unusual in the demi-monde of France’s Second Empire. A young woman uses her
beauty to earn a living. She lifts herself from the overcrowded squalor of
her childhood into a socially more affluent and elegant milieu by making
herself sexually available to the highest bidder. She has brought from her
earlier life and living conditions the disease of tuberculosis. She knows
she has the disease and what the inevitable outcome will be; it’s a question
of when not if, and if that is not enough she recognises that it will end
with her back where she started, in abject poverty. The singer of the role
must be capable of encompassing Verdi’s demands histrionically as well as
vocally. The title role of Violetta in Verdi’s opera has many vocal
challenges in realising this tragic story. The American diva Renée Fleming,
sometime queen of the Metropolitan Opera, contends that it is the perfect
role in the entire soprano lexicon and that by which most sopranos have been
measured. She suggests each act requires a different voice, passing from the
coloratura of the first through the lyric emotion of the second to a more
dramatic voice for the traumatic third act. A flexible-voiced lyric soprano
with good coloratura, Fleming waited until she was in her forties to assume
the role on stage after triumphs in
bel canto and in the classic
lyric soprano repertoire including roles by Richard Strauss.
In contrast, Diana Damrau, the Violetta in this performance, excelled in
material that often demanded scaling the more stratospheric vocal heights,
particularly the likes of Queen of the Night in Mozart’s
Magic
Flute, Zerbinetta in
Ariadne auf Naxos and Gilda in
Rigoletto. The Queen of the Night was her signature role and which
she sang in all the major opera houses of the world from 2002 onwards. Like
Fleming Damrau has waited until her forties, and in her case after the birth
of her two children before tackling the varied vocal demands of Violetta.
Damrau did so in 2013 at the Met in a revival of Willy Decker’s production
referred to below. She followed up with performances at La Scala and Covent
Garden before this production in Paris. In opulent period costumes and,
occasionally, a grandiose two-decker set she should have scooped the pool of
plaudits. However, for me her act one, except for an on-the-nail concluding
high note (CH.8), misses too many tricks. There's not enough variety
of expression or vocal colour and she really looks far too healthy for an
afflicted consumptive. Vocally she is better in act two (CHs. 9-17) and
stands up to Germont père with vocal conviction as well as in her acting.
Her singing in act three just does not cut the mustard. Her reading of the
letter (CH.21) lacks the harrowing occluded tone the music and words demand.
In the end I do not think she has made the transmission to the demands of
this role and on this evidence will not rise to the standard that Renèe
Fleming achieved after her assumption of the role at a similar age.
In the role of her suitor, I find Francesco Demura a frustrating singer
and actor. He did not impress me in the performances at Verona in 2011 (
review). At least his voice fills the theatre and has a
not unpleasant plangent tone. However, he must learn to sing to his partner
and bring more vocal expression and characterisation to his interpretations.
In Verdi’s wonderful duet for the lovers in act three,
Parigi, o
cara (CH.23), he often barely looks at his Violetta. The best singing
and interpretation among the principals in this production comes from
Ludovic Tézier. Albeit looking a little young despite carrying and leaning
on a stick, his rich-toned and tonally steady and expressive interpretation
are a delight. His tempting of Alfredo to return to Provence is a vocal
highlight (CH.18). Why he is deprived of his cabaletta defeats me. Notable
among the lesser roles is the singing of Nicolas Testé as a sympathetic
Doctor Grenvil and of Fabio Previati as the aged roué suitor Baron
Douphol.
There are a number of idiosyncrasies in this Benoît Jacquot production and
staging. Notable is the opulent bed present throughout the act one party
scene. Above the pillows is a classic painting. The bed and painting
reappear as an ornament in act three as the dying Violetta is consigned to a
steel-framed less comfortable one. There she is tended by Cornelia Oncioiu
as her maid, unaccountable blacked up; perhaps some political statement
about France’s Second Empire, if so it escapes me. Other idiosyncrasies
included male dancers in drag in the ballet and female bullfighters. These
are minor matters compared with the previous Paris production.
Less minor was the orchestral contribution. Having recently reviewed the
2014 Glyndebourne production masterfully conducted by Mark Elder, (
review) this is the ultimate antithesis. The pacing and
musical nuance that Verdi created in this masterpiece is completely missing
in Francesco Ivan Ciampa’s interpretation, which alone should deter any
prospective purchaser.
This issue comes in at the lower price range of new issue DVDs.
There's a very sparse booklet with no track-listings - merely an
act-by-act synopsis in three languages and some coloured photographs.
Appendix
Fiasco to triumph, the staging of 'La Traviata'
in Venice in 1853 and 1854
Even before this opera, the last staged of Verdi’s great middle period
trio of
Rigoletto,
Il Trovatore and
La Traviata,
the composer, his fame assured, could, both artistically and financially,
have afforded to relax. Giuseppina, his partner and later wife, appealed to
him to do so. His artistic drive allowed for no such luxury. Whilst on a
visit to Paris where the two enjoyed their life together without the
intrusions at Bussetto, the composer had seen, and been impressed, by
Alexander Dumas fils’s semi-autobiographical play
La Dame aux
camélias. This was based on the novel of the same name. The subject
appealed to Verdi, but he recognised that it might have problems with the
censors. Even before the choice of subject was made it was decided that
Piave, resident in Venice, was to be the librettist for the new opera for
the Teatro La Fenice. Verdi put off the choice of subject until the
preceding autumn, constantly worrying the theatre about the suitability of
the available singers. The theatre in its turn wanted to get the
censors' approval of the subject to satisfy their own peace of mind.
Piave produced at least one libretto that Verdi turned down before he
finally settled on Dumas’s play.
La Traviata was his nineteenth
opera and the most contemporary subject he ever set, embattled as he
constantly was by the restrictions of the censors, something that Puccini
and the later verismo composers never had to face.
Having spent the winter worrying about the suitability of the soprano
scheduled to sing the consumptive Violetta, Verdi was also upset that the La
Fenice decided to set his contemporary subject in an earlier period thus
losing the immediacy and relevance that he intended for the audience. He was
correct in worrying about the censors and the whole project was nearly
called off when they objected. As to the singers, all went well at the start
and at the end of act I, with its florid coloratura singing for the
eponymous soprano, when Verdi was called to the stage. The audience was less
sympathetic to the portly soprano portraying a dying consumptive in the last
act and laughed loudly. The tenor singing Alfredo was poor and the baritone
Varesi, who had created both the roles of Macbeth and Rigoletto considered
Germont below his dignity and made little effort. Verdi himself considered
the premiere a fiasco. He did, however, compliment the players of the
orchestra who had realised his beautifully expressive writing for strings,
not least in the preludes to acts 1 and 3. Although other theatres wished to
stage
La Traviata, Verdi withdrew the opera until he was satisfied
that any theatre concerned would cast the three principal roles, and
particularly the soprano, for both vocal and acting ability. The
administrator of Venice’s smaller San Benedetto theatre undertook to meet
Verdi’s demands. He promised as many rehearsals as the composer wanted and
to present the opera with the same staging and costumes as at the La Fenice
premiere. Verdi revised five numbers in the score and on 6 May 1854
La
Traviata was acclaimed with wild enthusiasm in the same city where it
had earlier been a fiasco. Verdi was well pleased with the success, but
particularly the circumstances and location.
La Traviata is now recognised not merely as one of Verdi’s finest
operas, but one of the lyric theatre's biggest hits. The role of
Violetta has many vocal as well as acting challenges. The singer of the
title role must be capable of encompassing Verdi’s demands histrionically as
well as vocally. A big challenge indeed, perhaps met most famously by Maria
Callas at La Scala in 1955 when directed by Visconti. Other worthy
interpretations include Renée Fleming herself in San Francisco alongside
Villazón and Bruson (
review) and at Covent Garden in 2009 with Calleja and
Hampson (
review), noteworthy vocal and acted portrayals.
Other notable assumptions have been by Angela Gheorghiu at Covent Garden in
1994 (Decca DVD 074 390) and in 2007 at La Scala, the latter in a most
sumptuously costumed and staged performance (Arthaus Musik Bluray 101 342).
Other productions have made it onto visual media and have their virtues.
Anna Netrebko, alongside an athletic Villazón, is excellent in Willy
Decker’s imaginative production in updated costumes seen at Salzburg in 2006
(
review). This staging of the latter production is now
available in Blu-ray as part of a reduced price triple issue including
La Bohème and
The Marriage of Figaro, all involving Anna
Netrebko and recorded live at the Salzburg Festival (
review).
Robert J Farr
Previous review (Blu-ray):
Michael Cookson
