Giuseppe VERDI (1813 – 1901)
Le Trouvère
Opera in four acts. Libretto by Salvadore Cammarano. French translation by Émilien Pacini.
Manrique, Le Trouvère – Giuseppe Gipali (tenor)
Le Comte de Luna – Franco Vasallo (baritone)
Fernand – Marco Spotti (bass)
Ruiz / Un Messager – Luca Casalin (tenor)
Léonore – Roberta Mantegna (soprano)
Azucena, la Bohémienne – Nino Surguladze (mezzo-soprano)
Inès – Tomia Langella (soprano)
Un vieux Bohémien – Nicolò Donini (bass)
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Communale di Bologna / Roberto Abbado
rec. 2018, Teatro Farnese, Parma, Italy
French libretto with English translation enclosed
DYNAMIC CDS7835.02 [79:54 + 79:52]
Il trovatore was a tremendous success from the very beginning. Premiered at the Teatro Apollo in Rome on 19 January 1853 it saw 229 productions worldwide within three years. It reached Paris less than two years later, where it was performed in December 1854 at the Théâtre Italien, and even before the premiere the manager of the Opéra approached Verdi with a wish that it could be performed at the Opéra in a French version. Having settled the terms Verdi agreed and his first measure was to find someone who could translate the libretto and also adapt it to suit the music. Émilien Pacini turned out to be that person and Verdi then set out to revise and amend the score. Most important was to compose ballet music to insert in Act III, which was a necessity in France. He provided some 25 minutes of music, where he also quotes some of the themes from the surrounding music, which makes it organically integrated in the score. And it is attractive music. Charles Osborne, in his monumental book on Verdi’s operas, goes as far as saying "He could have been the Tchaikovsky of Italian ballet". But Verdi went further than that. He revised the instrumentation in several places and also reworked parts of the last act, where he discarded the cabaletta after Leonora’s aria and made considerable changes in the finale. Vincenzo Raffaele Segreto in his admirable liner notes describes the changes more in detail. For those only familiar with the Italian original, the French words for the many well-known numbers may come as a shock, but the music is basically unaltered and one easily follows the drama. Léonore’s cabaletta in the first act has some unorthodox embellishments but otherwise all the notes are the ones one expects. The playing time is considerably longer than it usually is, due to the inclusion of the ballet music – which is a pleasant surprise – but also to some extent due to the inclusion of some applause, though fairly unobtrusive. The live recording is otherwise good, though the quality of the choral singing is a bit uneven with some individual voices petering out and some wobblers also disturb the balance. But there is power and pep in the anvil chorus and the soldiers’ chorus as valuable compensation – though the anvils are seemingly conspicuous by their absence. The electrifying metallic lustre is missing.
Wobblers are unfortunately also predominant among the soloists – in various degrees. All of them are however deeply involved in their characters and there is thrust in the performance, not least through Roberto Abbado’s inspiring conducting. Fernand is shaky in the opening scene but catches interest through his expressivity, and later on he is much steadier. Le Comte de Luna is sorely strained in the upper register and delivers much of his role at an unremitting forte. But he compensates this with a sensitive reading of Son regard, son doux sourire (Il balen), treating it a true love song. Manrique seems over-parted and strained, but he also has some lyrical moments. Ô toi! Mon seul espoir (Ah, si ben mio) is however utterly devoid of lyricism – and this is of course the other great love song. On the other hand Supplice infâme (Di quella pira) is sung with verve and a lot of glory and his high C is hefty. He is also touching in the last act in his dialogue with Azucena. She has a powerful voice, vibrato-laden by all means but expressive and she has those deep chest-notes one expects from a true Azucena. Considering Léonore I’m in two minds. Basically she has a very beautiful voice and she phrases musically. Her two arias are sung with great feeling and she can spin a lovely pianissimo thread but too often the tone is disfigured by a heavy vibrato. But in the last act, once her aria is over, she goes through a transformation and is truly great – and this is what remains in my memory when the curtain goes down. Inés, incidentally, is the one who is wholly unaffected by the vibrato disease.
Summing things up I can declare that it is always fascinating to encounter alternative versions of standard works. The ballet music in its rightful place is certainly an asset, the final scene is also valuable. Here, in spite of some vocal deficiencies, it is immensely moving. The quality of the singing is uneven, but there are several moments of comparative greatness and the involvement of the soloists is tangible. As for alternative recordings there are at least three, none of which I have heard. The oldest, recorded in 1912, can hardly be a first choice, even though there are some singers who are still remembered. A Philips recording from 1962, conducted by Jean Fournet and with Louis Quilico as Le Comte, may be interesting and finally Dynamic issued their first recording of the work in 1998, a live recording with Warren Mok as Manrique.
Göran Forsling
