The original five-act form of 
Don Carlos was premiered 
                at the Paris Opéra on 11 March 1867 to go alongside the Great 
                Exhibition held that year. It was by far the longest of Verdi’s 
                operas even after much material had been jettisoned to ensure 
                that the Parisian audience could get their trains home after the 
                performance. Whether that concern influenced its modest reception 
                can only be guessed at. The premiere of the Italian translation, 
                as 
Don Carlo, fared little better. Both the Italian public 
                and theatre managements found the opera over-long and were slow 
                to take it to their hearts. It was not long before the act three 
                ballet and then the first act, the 
Fontainebleau act, were 
                dropped altogether. The arrival in Italy of the shorter, more 
                cogent and equally grand 
Aida in 1871 added to the view. 
                After a failure in Naples in the same year Verdi made his first 
                alterations to the score for a revival under his own supervision. 
                Still its fortunes disappointed and with others shortening the 
                work in various ways the composer began to consider doing so himself. 
                Subject to other demands, he did not begin serious work on this 
                until 1882, concluding his revision as a four act opera the following 
                year with the premiere, at La Scala, having to wait until 1884. 
                This new shorter four-act revision involved much rewording to 
                explain the sequence of events and maintain narrative and dramatic 
                coherence. Verdi’s own reworking involved the removal of the 
Fontainebleau 
                act, the 
Ballet and the 
Inquisitors’ chorus 
                in act five as well as other detailed changes. The full story 
                of the genesis of 
Don Carlos, and its various forms, is 
                told in detail in section 2 of the fourth part of my 
Verdi 
                Conspectus. The premiere of the new four act 
Don Carlo, 
                which has become known as the 1884 version, was a great success 
                at La Scala with the tenor Tamagno, who created 
Otello 
                three years later, singing the title role. As is now accepted, 
                a version sung in English, is denoted by the French title of 
Don 
                Carlos. 
                
                In Britain an abbreviated five-act version produced by Visconti 
                and conducted by Giulini at Covent Garden heralded a renaissance 
                of the work worldwide (see 
review). 
                However, the economics of staging generally favoured the shorter 
                1884 version and this was what Opera North presented in 1993, 
                a halcyon period in its history with productions of 
Boris Godunov, 
                
The Thieving Magpie, 
Jerusalem, 
Faust and 
                
La Gioconda appearing on the roster. 
                
                The original 1993 production by Tim Albery, in sets by Hildegard 
                Bechtler, featured John Tomlinson as Philip with Opera North stalwarts 
                Keith Latham, David Gwynne and Clive Bayley as Rodrigo, the Inquisitor 
                and the Monk. By the first revival in 1998 Bayley had become the 
                Inquisitor with Alastair Miles as Philip and Julian Gavin as the 
                eponymous Carlos. With Albery returning to refresh his creation, 
                all three reprised these roles in the 2009 staged revival whose 
                presentation was assisted, stimulated and aided by support from 
                the Peter Moores Foundation and by this recording. The recording 
                joins that of Verdi’s 
Nabucco in Chandos’s 
Opera In 
                English series in featuring Opera North forces under Richard 
                Farnes (see 
review). 
                
                
                In my 
review 
                of the live performances I found the dramatic scene between Philip 
                and the Grand Inquisitor lost a little because of the similarity 
                of the voices of Miles and Bayley, each a strong but lean bass. 
                I am pleased to note that in this recording the latter has reverted 
                to the Monk with the Inquisitor being sung by the equally strong 
                but tonally more sonorous and vocally distinct John Tomlinson. 
                As in the theatre, Richard Farnes whips up a fire in this scene 
                to great dramatic effect in what is one of the particularly notable 
                all-male duets in the work (CD3 trs. 4-5). Another of those significant 
                duets occurs between Philip and the idealistic Posa after the 
                King has discovered Elisabeth unattended and dismissed her companion. 
                This is perhaps the greatest improvement Verdi made in his many 
                alterations to the score. In this recording it lacks a little 
                of its power and dramatic thrust. The chilling effect of the King’s 
                warning to beware the Grand Inquisitor also suffers. In my view 
                this is more to do with the use of English than any failing of 
                the singers. William Dazely’s Posa responds well to a King filled 
                with doubts (CD 1 trs.16-18). 
                
                In terms of Verdi singing the male side is particularly well served 
                here. Alastair Miles sounds suitably old and weary as he reflects 
                on married life in the loneliness of his study (CD 3 tr.2-3). 
                This follows the wonderful cello chords of the introduction that 
                sets the mood for his soliloquy (tr1). Dazely’s Posa was a real 
                revelation in the theatre and is so in this recording. His portrayal 
                is wholly convincing with the highlight of his interpretation 
                being his singing in the prison scene and as Posa dies (CD 3 tr.11-15). 
                In the theatre I found Julian Gavin’s Carlos a little over-sung 
                and wanting in more gentle phrasing and caressing of the vocal 
                line. I am pleased to say most of those problems are absent here 
                with the tenor singing an ardent and well-characterised performance. 
                This is particularly clear in the duet with Posa (CD 1 tr.5) and 
                in how he handles the confusion in the Garden Scene when Carlos 
                confuses Eboli with Elisabeth and declares his love (CD 2 trs.3-5). 
                
                
                On stage Janice Watson portrayed a rather glacial Elisabeth, not 
                many marital comforts for Philip I suspected. As on that occasion 
                she sings her last act aria with silvery tone and well-drawn phrasing 
                (CD 3 trs.18-19) adding to my favourable impression in the following 
                duet with Carlos (trs.20-21). Jane Dutton’s lyric mezzo has a 
                variety of vocal colours and is effective in both the lyrical 
                
Moorish song (CD 1 tr.8) and as she dramatically regrets 
                her own beauty after admitting her adultery with Philip (CD 2 
                tr.10). 
                
                As in the theatre, all the singers have excellent diction, the 
                males in particular. However, this makes me acutely aware of the 
                limitation imposed by the compromised relationship of English 
                language prosody with Verdi’s music; they have to get their voices 
                around the words while keeping true to the vocal line in what 
                is accepted as a good translation by Andrew Porter. In his constant 
                reversal to the French language for his various revisions, Verdi 
                wrote in a manner for the words to sit on the music, much as the 
                
bel canto composers did half a century before. For many 
                listeners being able to hear the words so clearly allows the story 
                to unfold without their having to read the libretto along the 
                way. 
                
                In the theatre, Albery’s management of the 
auto da fe scene 
                (CD 2 trs. 6-10) was exemplary with an impressively staged pyre 
                an added 
coup de théâtre. In this recording, with a strong 
                roster of Flemish deputies, the committed singing of the chorus 
                and with Farnes again lighting metaphorical fires in the orchestra 
                it is an equal
 tour de force. 
                
                
Robert J Farr