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Silvia Luraghi's Letter from Milan 2000

 
October  
 
The main event of the month was War and Peace by Sergei Prokofiev in the Mariinsky Theater production, premiered in St Petersburg on March 11, revived at Covent Garden during the summer, and to be seen at the Met in the 2001-02 season. The opening took place in a rather tense atmosphere, during the protest against the decision of La Scala to abolish standing room. Valery Gergiev, who was scheduled to conduct the first three performances (in the event he only conducted two), is a favorite of the Milanese public, and the opera resulted in a big success, despite the fact that most of the audience had never seen or heard it before, and that it was sung in Russian with no translated titles, following the habitual policy of the house.
 
Prokofiev had already been composing for the cinema when he wrote War and Peace (1941-48), Alexander Nevsky was completed in 1938, then came Ivan the Terrible (1942-45). His knowledge of film is clearly reflected in the style of this opera, giving musical continuity to somewhat fragmentary action. Andrei Konchalovsky's production, with beautiful sets by George Tsypin, functions well with the cinematic character of Prokofiev's music, so that the resulting effect is particularly convincing.
 
Given the length and complexity of Tolstoi's novel, Prokofiev had necessarily had to be selective. The first part, 'Peace', depicts the love story of Andrei Bolkonsky and Natasha Rostova, focusing on the episode of her planned elopement with Anatol Kuraghin: three out of seven scenes are devoted to this episode, though one (the fifth) was cut in Milan. Here the character of Pierre Bezukhov, somewhat eclipsed in the beginning, comes powerfully to the fore.
 
Pierre remains prominent up to the final scenes of the second part, 'War'. Andrei and Natasha also return in the second part, meeting again in the aftermath of Borodino, with the music movingly reminding us of the ball where the two had first fallen in love. But it is the military side that is uppermost and has the greater dramatic impact: the chorus of the Russian people fighting for their country (the opera was written during World War Two), and the character of Fieldmarshal Kutuzov, who towers above everyone with his big aria, depicting the moment in which he decides to withdraw from Moscow, leaving it deserted in front of the invading troops.
 
Such an enterprise requires a huge cast of outstanding singers (there are almost 60 principals), demanding as it is both on the vocal and on the acting side: many of the singers have only a few minutes to convey the psychological facets that Tolstoi gave their characters, and which Prokofiev intended to retain. The singers of the Mariinsky company have all been performing in this production for several months now, and all fitted in perfectly. Gegam Grigorian gave life to a passionate Pierre Bezukhov, singing with beautifully timbre and huge volume. Gennadi Bezubenkov (October 1) and Sergei Alexashkin (October 4) both succeeded in giving memorable portraits of the imposing character of Fieldmarshal Kutuzov. Natasha Rostova was sung by Tatiana Pavlovskaia on October 1, with a beautiful voice, but slightly over dramatic: Anna Netrebko, on October 4, did better justice to the youthfulness of the girl, retaining her naiveté even during the events of the war. Among the other principals, Vladimir Moroz (Andrei Bolkonsky), Mikhail Kit (Count Rostov), and Vladislav Uspensky (Napoleon) at least deserve to be mentioned, although all performed at a very high level. The chorus, thoroughly prepared by Andrei Petrenko, also gave an outstanding performance.
 
The orchestra played with deep concentration under Gergiev's baton on October 1, capturing the audience and leaving them almost breathless at the end of the four-hour performance. On October 4, Gianandrea Noseda (scheduled for October 5) stepped in for Gergiev. Orchestra and singers did their best, and the performance was still convincing, though the magic of the preceding evening was gone.
 
The other major musical event of October was the Contemporary Music Festival, organized every fall by the association Milano Musica. This year it was particularly (but not exclusively) devoted to Luigi Nono. Many of the concerts also included vocal music. On October 1, a beautiful performance of Luciano Berio's Ofanim (composed 1988-1992) was impressively sung by the Israeli soprano Esti Kenan-Ofri and the children's chorus of Budapest Radio. Soprano Julie Moffat sang Alban Berg's Three Fragments from Wozzeck (composed 1924), and was later joined by contralto Susan Otto and tenor Martyn Hill in a moving performance of Luigi Nono's Il canto sospeso (composed 1955-1956), which took place at La Scala on October 15th. The ideal link between early and contemporary compositions for voice was highlighted by the ensemble Neue Vocalsoloiste Stuttgart on October 23, performing music by Carlo Gesualdo da Venosa, Luigi Nono and Salvatore Sciarrino.
 
Although the festival is not directly organized by La Scala, the Opera House also participated in the general attention to contemporary music, not only by direct involvement in the festival, but also by organizing independent events devoted to the 20th Century. On October 22, Muti opened the season of the Philharmonic Orchestra of La Scala, with a program that included Goffredo Petrassi's Noche Oscura and Bruckner's Grosse Messe number 3. The biggest contribution came from the chorus, competently instructed by Roberto Gabbiani; the four soloists, Doina Dimitriu, Elena Cassian, Herbert Lippert, and Roberto Scandiuzzi, all sang their parts accurately and competently.
 
Of more operatic interest was the world premiere of Azio Corghi's new opera Tatiana, a new commission from La Scala, on October 20th. The one act opera, of about one hour's length, is based on a libretto that the composer himself derived from a theatrical work by Chekhov. The action takes place in a Russian cathedral, during the marriage of Sabinin and Olenina. There is a lot of distraction during the service, attended by, amongst others, a company of comedians. The atmosphere becomes particularly unpleasant when a lady in black attracts attention to herself. She reminds Sabinin of Tatiana Repina, who committed suicide after he abandoned her. Later, three more women in town committed suicide: this sequence of morbid events is commented on by the people who attend the ceremony. Sabinin is increasingly bothered by the presence of the lady in black, and, when the priest finishes celebrating his marriage, leaves for the cemetery, paying little attention to his newly married wife. The cathedral is now deserted, only two priests walk around in the darkness. Suddenly the lady in black walks in again, falls and dies, after saying that she has poisoned herself: she wanted to protest against Sabinin's behavior and Tatiana's death.
 
Azio Corghi has frequently composed operas; the style of Tatiana, however, is closer to an oratorio, an impression reinforced by the responsibility assigned to the two choruses: of them, one of them on stage and representing the guests at the marriage, the second one, invisible, sings and comments on the spiritual meaning of the action. The vocal part is mostly in the style of sprechgesang, with some spoken lines. The production, designed by Peter Stein, was supervised by the composer, resulting in a very close adherence of music and action. Among the singers, all very well prepared both vocally and dramatically, the male contralto Graham Pushee (Matveev, the chief comedian) deserves special mention. The lady in black was Chiara Taigi, who gained the sympathy of the audience in the final scene; the chorus of La Scala was joined by the Swingle Singers, who performed the part of the invisible chorus.
 
Operatic life in Lombardy is not limited to La Scala: the opera houses of Cremona, Bergamo, Como, Brescia, and Pavia organize, in a joint effort, a fall season, with some events of a very high level. This year, the opening title was Bohème, interpreted by the young winners of the International Associazione Lirica Como Competition.
 
There was an outstanding Anna Bolena premiered in Bergamo on October 6th, and was later performed in Cremona. It was a revival of the Jonathan Miller production, originally created for the Bavarian State Opera of Munich. The score was performed in a rare unabridged version, with 3 hours 45 minutes of music, in which all the characters were given back their original and seldom performed music, including the complete prison scene for the tenor and two arias for the usually rather marginal character of Smeton. Generally speaking, the vocal cast was up to the demands of this challenging opera. Dimitra Theodossiou in the title role exhibited a good volume of voice, dramatic and yet lighter in the coloratura, although she had some problems with the high notes of the final cabaletta. Sonia Ganassi was at her best in the high-lying role of Seymore, and Sonia Prina sang the restored arias of Smeton with elegance. Andrea Papi gave a secure, idiomatic interpretation of the rather unrewarding role of Henry VIII. Fabio Sartori (Percy) managed his demanding part with some insecurity, and had to leave out the coloratura. The orchestra was competently conducted by Tiziano Severini.
 
The soprano Fiorenza Cedolins, one of the most interesting dramatic voices of the new generation, was cheered with a ten-minute ovation at the Teatro Fraschini in Pavia, when she gave a recital accompanied by Vincent Scalera on October 12th. The young singer sang a full two-hour programme, consisting of chamber compositions by all major Italian composers of the 19th and early 20th centuries: Bellini, Donizetti, Verdi, Mascagni, Leoncavallo, and Puccini. At the end she offered three operatic encores, 'Vissi d'arte'‚ from Tosca, a role in which she has already demonstrated her dramatic competence in several Houses, 'Io son l'umile ancella'‚ from Adriana Lecouvreur, and 'Pace mio Dio'‚ from La Forza del Destino.
 
Hopefully Cedolins will tackle more Verdi roles in the future. Her Verdi repertoire currently includes Leonora in Trovatore, and she intends to sing Elisabetta in Don Carlos (the Japanese public should have the opportunity of hearing Cedolins in both operas next winter). Given the demand for dramatic sopranos, a singer like Cedolins, whose interpretative qualities are not second to the vocal ones, is most welcome on the current operatic scene.
  
© Silvia Luraghi 25 Oct 2000
 
 
November

The Teatro Donizetti of Bergamo (see below) has played an important role in introducing new operas to the public. The beautiful eighteenth century theater designed by Bortolo Riccardi was opened in 1791. It was destroyed by a fire in 1797. Completely re-built in less than three years, it opened again in 1800, flourishing during the French occupation and later under the Austrian regime.

 
On November 4th a wonderful performance of Luigi Nono's Prometeo, Tragedia dell'Ascolto, closed both the Contemporary Music Festival of Milano Musica and the 1999-2000 La Scala season. Prometeo was written in 1982 (revised in 1985), for an ensemble including two sopranos, two mezzos, a tenor, two actors, a chorus, four instrumental groups and live electronics. The instrumental groups must be placed on opposite sides of the room and soloists and chorus also need to be placed far from each other, so the performance requires two conductors plus a musical director for live electronics and must be held in a special theater. For this reason, the organizers had to find a completely new performing space: the Spazio Antologico which had been used two weeks before for another concert by Milano Musica.
 
The text, written by philosopher Massimo Cacciari, a personal friend of Nono, was inspired by Greek tragedy both in its structure and in its use of the chorus. Prometeo, the titan of Greek mythology who stole fire from the gods to bring it to humans starting all technical knowledge among mankind, addresses his lamentation to the earth and the sea for his unjust punishment.
 
Nono's work is rather demanding, consisting of two hours and 20 minutes of uninterrupted dodecaphonic music, so the success it enjoyed (a 15 minute ovation at the end despite the poor heating system of the Spazio Antologico) demonstrated that contemporary music can attract a large and mature audience in Milan. At least some of the credit for this should go to Milano Musica and the hard work of its organizers.
 
On November 16, the official celebration of the 100th anniversary of Verdi's death at La Scala opened with a concert conducted by Riccardo Muti. The presence of numerous authorities including the President of the Italian Republic, Carlo Azeglio Ciampi, gave the celebration a national flavor, though not everyone would have agreed on giving this honor to Milan.
 
On this occasion, Maestro Muti conducted the national anthem, something which he was unwilling to do at the opening of the 1999-2000 season because he felt the music was inferior to that of Beethoven's Fidelio. Muti's refusal caused some diplomatic problems for the opera house at that time because the general manager had invited President Ciampi, promising that the national anthem would be played, and he was not able to communicate Muti's decision to the president before his arrival. This year Muti agreed to satisfy the president's wish, not for aesthetic reasons, but because, as he explained to the people who had gone to the open rehearsal in the morning, the national anthem dated back to the same period as the early music by Verdi featured in the first part of the concert program.
 
The concert was entitled 'The Sacred and the Profane in Early and Late Verdi'. The first half included very early rarities, some of which can, at best, be considered of documentary value. For soloists, Muti could count on such world stars as soprano Barbara Frittoli, and mezzo Violeta Urmana, presently at La Scala rehearsing Il Trovatore. Also appearing in the concert were tenor Ramon Vargas and bass Michele Pertusi. All made solid professional contributions living up to the expectations raised by the occasion. In particular, Ramon Vargas sang a long and complicated aria entitled 'Cupo il sepolcro e mutolo' (accompanied by Muti himself at the piano) showing his affinity for early nineteenth century repertoire.
 
The second half of the concert was devoted to Verdi's maturity, with a wonderful performance of three of the Quattro Pezzi Sacri, the Stabat Mater, the Laudi alla Vergine Maria, and the Te Deum. Here, Muti was at his best, and he was able to create an atmosphere of participation on the part of the orchestra, the chorus and the public seldom achieved. For an encore, the maestro surprised everybody by repeating the national anthem, this time with the public singing enthusiastically in an outburst of patriotism not generally experienced in Milan.
 
In Turin, Wolf-Ferrari's Sly opened the 2000-01 season of the Teatro Regio. This opera, composed in 1927, virtually disappeared after the second world war, but was recently revived in Zurich and Washington DC, because of the willingness of José Carreras to include it in his repertoire. It is rather atypical among the compositions of Wolf-Ferrari who is better known for his comedies, some of which, like I Quattro Rusteghi and Il Campiello, are taken from Goldoni. Even in Sly, with its tragic ending, the music highlights the fable-like aspects of the piece, rather than its drama. Wolf-Ferrari (1876-1948) was the son of a German father and an Italian mother. In his work, he combined the Italian tradition of the 'Commedia dell'arte' with knowledge of recent trends in orchestration from German speaking countries which are especially audible in the opera's finale, with its Straussian orchestral treatment.
 
Giovacchino Forzano derived the libretto for Sly from the introduction to Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew, and for some time he tried to get Puccini to write music for it. In this piece, Sly, a penniless poet, is found in a tavern, completely drunk, by the Count of Westmoreland who decides to play a trick on him. He takes Sly to his home, and when the poet wakes up, the count convinces him that he is the owner of the palace, but has suffered a lapse of memory. Dolly, the count's mistress, pretends to be his wife. The trick continues until Westmoreland finally reveals the truth to Sly, and asks him to remain in the palace as his jester. Sly, humiliated, commits suicide by severing his veins. While he is bleeding, Dolly tells him that she regrets deceiving him and that her love is true. But it is too late, and Sly dies after a long duet in which the dreamy atmosphere of the music reaches its zenith.
 
A glance at the role's vocal line explains Carreras's reasons for undertaking this opera at this point in his career. The role offers the tenor an opportunity to use all his skills in interpretation, but its vocal concentration is on the middle register and it has no demanding high notes. Carreras, whose middle register remains beautiful, can take advantage of these possibilities and, in past seasons, he has earned the public's admiration for his exploration of the depth of this role. In comparison, all the other singers remained somewhat in the background because they lacked the same total commitment to their roles. Elisabete Matos, as Dolly, was a good, if not equal, partner in spite of a slightly superficial interpretation. Carmelo Corrado Caruso fared well in the part of the count of Westmoreland, but none of the singers in the minor roles left any particular impression. The orchestra was conducted by Renato Palumbo and the production, directed by Hans Hoffer, was from the Zurich Opera. A special mention should be made of the lighting by Jürgen Hoffmann, which was particularly effective in the second act.
 
The Teatro Comunale of Florence presented a double bill of Cavalleria Rusticana and I Pagliacci which offered different attractions on different evenings as the Teatro Comunale assembled two high-level casts. At the opening and some following performances José Cura took up the challenge of singing in both operas. On the other evenings the role of Turiddu in Cavalleria was sung by Gegam Grigorian and the role of Canio in Pagliacci by Sergei Larin. On November 5th Cura offered his last performance of the two roles. This tenor is well known for his particular engagement in acting, while perhaps not paying the same attention to singing. His acting is sometimes unconventional and always rather emphasized, which may not be the best for the more 'refined' nineteenth century roles, but it is suitable for Verismo, and especially for Cavalleria. Cura was able to portray Turiddu with convincing results. The same cannot be said for Pagliacci, a role in which Cura has not yet had the same amount of experience. His Canio looked generic and too youthful, lacking the inner bitterness caused by being conscious that his love is for a much younger and less experienced woman. Vocally, Cura appeared to be somewhat tired and at some moments to be saving his energy by singing at reduced volume.
 
The Santuzza was Carolyn Sebron, who, in spite of having debuted the role only two weeks before, already sounded convincing with nice high notes. The Alfio was Marco Chingari, who displayed a rather ugly break between the middle and the high registers. Lola and Mamma Lucia were competently sung by Terese Cullen and Eleonora Jankovic. In Pagliacci, the Nedda was Svetla Vassilieva, a soprano who has a rather small voice, but who compensates for it with a beautiful timbre, secure high notes and the ability to identify completely with the character she is portraying. Tonio was sung by Juan Pons, who, as a veteran in this role, interpreted it with his usual commitment. He also gave the appearance of being in very good vocal condition.
 
The production of Cavalleria, directed by Liliana Cavani, was first seen at the Ravenna Festival in 1996, and the Pagliacci premiered there in 1998. Both respect the original settings of the two operas without adding much to their performing history. The conductor was Bruno Bartoletti, presently one of the best 'batons' for this repertoire. But the biggest treat for every opera lover was certainly the one which came on November 6, when Fedora Barbieri took over the role of Mamma Lucia. The great Florentine mezzo, who recently turned eighty, was invited on the occasion of the sixtieth anniversary of her debut in the opera house of her home town. Visibly emotional, Barbieri received a huge ovation; then she went on and performed her role with her well known acting skills and a technique which can still be an example for younger singers.
 
The Teatro Donizetti of Bergamo (see photograph above) has played an important role in the past in introducing new operas to the public. The beautiful eighteenth century theater has had a glorious history: it was officially opened in 1791, although the architect, Bortolo Riccardi, had already organized some performances in the unfinished building during the five preceding years. It was destroyed by a fire in 1797. Completely re-built in less than three years, it opened again in 1800, flourishing during the French occupation and later under the Austrian regime, a period in which operas by all major Italian composers were brought to Bergamo.
 
During the second part of the nineteenth century, the theater was directed by the widow of the publisher Lucca, a rival of Ricordi, who, among other things, organized the premiere of Donizetti's unfinished opera Il Duca d'Alba. On the occasion of the centenary of Donizetti's birth in 1897, the theater was officially dedicated to Bergamo's illustrious son and the front of the building was completely renovated The inside rooms were renovated later, in 1903. Although it was always under construction at the beginning of the twentieth century, the theater offered hospitality to a number of silent movies with orchestral accompaniments. A major change in the history of the Teatro Donizetti came between 1936 and 1938 when it ceased to be run by its owners and was passed on to the city administration. In this new atmosphere its artistic director, Bindo Missiroli, was able to organize a new enterprise, the Teatro delle Novità, which, from 1937 to 1973, regularly presented newly created operas, some of them especially written for it.
 
The Teatro delle Novità has been revived this present season, with a production of three one-act operas: the first of which, Giancarlo Menotti's The Telephone, was first performed in New York in 1947 and is already a classic of twentieth century musical theater, while the other two, Ghost Café by Carlo Galante, and La donna nel quadro ('The Woman in the Picture') by Carlo Boccadoro, were being given their world premiere. The director, Stefano Monti, staged the three operas in rather different settings, though with the common motive of a frame (the picture of the last opera) that surrounded the stage.
 
In The Telephone (sung here in Italian) Lucy receives the visit of her friend Ben, who, before leaving on a journey, tries to propose to her. But he is continuously interrupted by telephone calls, and, since Lucy cannot resist answering, Ben finally decides to stop fighting with his too powerful enemy and use it as an ally. He leaves the home of the girl, and calls her from a telephone booth, from which he is eventually able to make his enthusiastically received proposal. Lucy and Ben were amusingly portrayed by Cinzia Forte, who also sang in La donna nel quadro, and Marco Camastra, who was on stage again in Ghost Café. For the Menotti, the orchestra was conducted by Fabrizio Maria Carminati, while for the second two operas the composer of La donna nel quadro, Carlo Boccadoro, took his turn at the baton.
 
Ghost Café, which has a libretto by Gabriela Fantato, depicts the inner troubles of a young singer who is uncertain about the road she has to take to pursue her career. A strange bartender introduces her to a peculiar jukebox which features the ghosts which haunt her fantasy: singers from the past, a career woman, and finally an acrobat, from whom she learns that she has to follow her feelings while trying to keep her balance as if walking on a rope. The text is rather pretentious and not very theatrical, a weakness that is mirrored by the music, interesting at some points, but generally lacking in cohesion. As for the singers, Chiara Chialli handled the demanding part of the young singer Flora well.
 
La donna nel quadro, which has a libretto by Dario Olivieri taken from a short story by Alexei Tolstoi, has a completely different atmosphere. Count Amadeus van Berg is visited by the renowned magician, Count Cagliostro, with his wife Maria and a servant. Looking at a portrait of van Berg's lost love, Doriana, Cagliostro brings her back to life. But Maria, who is afraid of her husband's power, is able to defeat his magic, and van Berg throws him out of his castle, threatening him with a sword. When the night is over, van Berg and Maria, who has remained at the castle, declare their reciprocal love but the shadow of Cagliostro still lingers menacingly over the castle. In writing the music, Boccadoro took advantage of the theatrical libretto and the fact that the character of Cagliostro, a baritone, fits especially well into the traditional line of opera villains. The orchestration presented some interesting solutions for the wind instruments, and the singing was well supported by the tenor Cristiano Olivieri (Count van Berg) and the baritone Marzio Giossi (Cagliostro). Although the production had only two performances, it enjoyed a warm success.
 
One can only hope that these performances constitute a new start for the Teatro delle Novità, and that this season will not remain an isolated episode.
 
© Silvia Luraghi, 12 December 2000
 
 
December

The Teatro Fraschini in Pavia (see below)

 
La Scala opening night finally arrived, amid great expectations and in accordance with tradition, on December 7. Less traditional was the choice of Trovatore for the opening: the last performance of this opera at La Scala was in 1978. Before that Trovatore was last seen in the 1969-1970 season, previous to which it was performed more or less every other year. There was another long hiatus, between the years 1902 and 1925, a time when many of the most popular Verdi operas were considered of lesser worth than his late works. Even Toscanini had a hard time programming them. However since the re-evaluation brought by the Verdi Renaissance, the absence of Trovatore from La Scala has been due less to a lack of critical appreciation, than to the problems created for performers.
 
Three important theaters have opened new productions of this opera at the same time (La Scala and the Met on December 7; the Teatro Real in Madrid on December 8). All have aroused discussion and criticism proving the difficulty of producing Trovatore. Some 150 Trovatores will be performed in different places during the Verdi year, so there is clearly something special about this quintessential Verdi opera.
 
Trovatore is demanding for all voices: Caruso used to say that Trovatore needs the four greatest singers in the world. Trovatore is one of the best known operas. Many people attend it knowing exactly what they want to hear, knowing exactly how such-and-such singer used to sing such-and-such notes: the weight of tradition is perhaps heavier on Trovatore than on any other opera.
 
To conduct Trovatore is no easier than to sing it: apart from the problem of keeping everyone together, the emotional immediacy of the music has to be handled with some distance, in order to avoid a disordered series of orchestral effects. Far from being 'easy' music, Trovatore requires deep understanding and commitment from the conductor.
 
Last but not least, it is not easy for the stage director to find an appropriate setting for an opera in which most of the action is reported but not seen on stage. However the challenge presented by the staging problems can result in a thrilling atmosphere in a new production.
 
On top of all vocal requirements in the score, there are also expectations created by tradition, the best well known of which is the famous (infamous?) high C in the tenor's cabaletta 'Di quella pira'. In Milan, Riccardo Muti had pre-empted matters, even before the tenor was contracted, by stating that no additions would be made to the original score. Verdi never wrote the high C, so the audience knew that they could not blame the tenor for not singing it.
 
Nevertheless the tenor many other problems. While Manrico does not require particular subtleties in interpretation, it is certainly one of the most demanding roles in Italian melodrama. At La Scala the Manrico was Salvatore Licitra, a young Sicilian, heard here last season as Cavaradossi in Tosca. He will return next spring for Un Ballo in Maschera. On December 10, Licitra certainly displayed the volume required by the role of Manrico; he has a luminous voice, with a beautiful timbre at times reminiscent of Pavarotti, and good breathing, but he has problems with intonation and very little interpretative capability (even for Manrico). One hopes that the success he is enjoying will not prevent him from continuing studying, and that he will not attempt too many heavy roles at the same time.
 
Equally, or perhaps even more demanding, is the role of Leonora, a dramatic soprano who needs to have an extraordinary extension and very sound high notes. Given the present lack of dramatic sopranos, Maestro Muti chose a well prepared lyric singer, Barbara Frittoli, best known for her Mozart interpretations. Frittoli has a perfect technique: this permitted her to handle a role which lies above her vocal means. She could barely cope with the requirements in the low register in her first aria, 'Tacea la notte placida'; but she was more at ease in the succeeding cabaletta, in which she produced beautiful high notes. She again had some bad moments in the cabaletta of the last act , 'Tu vedrai che amore in terra'.
 
Count Luna was Leo Nucci, a veteran in this role, who sang everything perfectly from a technical point of view, and also gave the best psychological interpretation: however his voice sounded tired and he sang with reduced volume (he was sometimes covered by the orchestra, a thing that did not happen to the other singers).
 
Violeta Urmana sang the role of Azucena. This singer has a huge voice, all the high notes required by the role, a good technique, but very unusual colors for the gypsy. In particular her low register is rather light, and those who remember the dark, contralto-like low notes of an Azucena like Fiorenza Cossotto will be disappointed by Urmana: this gypsy is not a raging, revengeful woman, but rather a woman who suffers incomprehensible injustice and prejudice, and reacts out of fear. In the role of Ferrando, the bass Giorgio Giuseppini sang his initial aria rather routinely.
 
The last performance, on December 30, was sung, apart from Licitra, by a different cast. Dimitra Theodossiu, who also sang in two previous performances, was Leonora. She has sung a lot lately, and her voice sounded rather tired. Alberto Gazale as Count Luna was a little disappointing: his voice lacks polish, and he sang with lack of vibrato and sometimes out of tune. Marianne Cornetti exhibited a huge voice as Azucena, without creating a memorable interpretation. Ferrando was Giovanbattista Parodi, a young bass with a beautiful voice and good technique, who delivered his aria in a very convincing way. The chorus, prepared as usual by Roberto Gabbiani, made a good contribution to the performance.
 
Muti conducted Trovatore several years ago in Florence and his understanding of Verdi's music is beyond question. He prepared the orchestra and soloists carefully, blended the instrumental parts with the voices and kept everything completely under control. Only his tempi appeared sometimes uncomfortably fast, which in some cases gave the impression of unnecessary haste (for example in the gypsies chorus).
 
The stage director was Ugo de Ana, who staged La Forza del Destino at La Scala two years ago. As in Forza, de Ana is at his best in those scenes where he can move a large number of people. In the case of Trovatore: the initial scene in the soldier's camp, the camp of the gypsies, and the soldiers‚ chorus 'Squilli, eccheggi'. Where he has to place only two or three people, he looses focus. The singers who follow his directions move around in an incomprehensible manner (Frittoli), while others find it easier not to move at all (Licitra). The opera was staged in a generic 15th century and the pervading darkness gave the impression that the action was developing only at night.
 
In spite of some dissent from sectors of the public at the opening, all performances were basically well received. As usual the house was sold out every night. Fortunately, those unable able to see Trovatore so far will not have to wait another twenty years, because the same production will be back again for four nights in March.
 
After the opening with Sly, the season continued in Turin with a new production of Rossini's Barber of Seville. The company was on the whole satisfactory. Figaro was Roberto Servile, who gave an idiomatic interpretation of this role, while Rockwell Blake displayed his famous and extremely extended high register, singing, as usual, the final rondo with its impervious coloratura. Technically he is still perhaps the best Count Almaviva; unfortunately his voice, never of a particularly agreeable timbre, has lost polish, partly as a consequence of his repertoire, so that the high notes sound rather unpleasant, and one wonders whether it would not be better for Blake to leave out the final rondo as most other singers do. Anna Caterina Antonacci sang with her usual good technique, although she does not seem particularly suited for the role, her interpretation always lying too much on the dramatic side. The two basses, Bruno Pola as Bartolo, and Andrea Papi as Basilio, both delivered very good and amusing interpretations of their roles: they both displayed solid acting capacities, thus adding liveliness to an otherwise rather static production. Unfortunately, both the conductor, Corrado Rovaris, and the stage director, Ferruccio Soleri, failed to create tension in the action, so that the result was much less hilarious than can usually be expected from Rossini.
 

The Teatro Fraschini in Pavia

 
The Teatro Fraschini in Pavia has recently been restored and opened again, after having been closed for almost ten years. This theater was built in the second part of the Eighteenth century (it opened in 1773), based on a plan by the famous architect Antonio Galli da Bibiena who designed, amongst other things, the opera house of Bologna (now called the Teatro Comunale), which had opened ten years earlier. The original name of the Teatro Fraschini was Teatro dei Quattro Cavalieri referring to four noblemen who founded the society which built and owned it, until it eventually became the property of the city of Pavia in 1869. The name Fraschini was chosen by the city council to honor the important Pavia-born tenor Gaetano Fraschini (1816-1887).
 
The theater opened with the opera Demetrio, by the Bohemian composer Joseph Mjsliveczek to a libretto by Pietro Metastasio. During the first part of the Nineteenth century, operas by the most important Italian composers were staged in Pavia; this however did not prevent difficulties due to lack of funding: the main reason why it survived was that the palchettisti (who owned or rented the lounges 'palchi', as was the custom in Italian theaters until the beginning of the Twentieth century) agreed to pay even for seasons in which the number of performances was reduced. The theater was seen as a matter of prestige for the city, which, at that time, hosted the only university in the region of Lombardy (there were no universities in Milan until the 1920's).
 
During the turmoil that preceded the unification of Italy, the theater was closed for a season and used by the Austrian army for storage. At the time when it was bought by the city administration, it was in urgent need of restoration. Only in the early 1990's was it finally possible to renew the building completely, restoring the inside to its original Eighteenth century appearance.
 
This small opera house unique acoustics due to its peculiar shape and the skill of Bibiena. It has a narrow, rectangular plan, divided into two equal parts for the stage and for the orchestra seats. The wooden floor was placed over pillars, to create a resonating box with the same area as the theater itself.
 
The narrow, deep shape of the stage offered a perfect setting for the production of Norma staged by Mattia Testi, and already seen last Fall in Bergamo, Cremona, and Brescia. This sets the opera in a partially modernized antiquity after the habit of Bellini's own time.
 
Katia Pellegrino, a young soprano heard last September at the Callas Competition, tried bravely to cope with the demanding partitura of the title role. She is too young and inexperienced for Norma, but it will be interesting to hear her again in some more lyric roles. The mezzo Cristina Sogmeister sang with good technique and gave a convincing interpretation of Adalgisa. In the role of Pollione, Ignacio Encinas displayed an uneven voice, breaks between the different registers and difficult high notes. The Orchestra dei Pomeriggi Musicali di Milano was conducted by Angelo Campori, who gave a rather dull reading of Bellini's music.
 
© Silvia Luraghi, 4 January 2001

Silvia Luraghi is Professor of Linguistics at the University of Pavia. Her broad interests include historical linguistics, comparative philology, linguistic typology and translation studies. In this last field, she has done research on translation for special purposes, such as opera supertitling, and libretti translation. A regular opera goer since childhood, she started a second career as an opera critic several years ago, contributing on a regular basis to leading Italian-language magazines, such as L'Opera and the 'Classic Voice', and in English to Opera japonica.
 
See also Letters from Milan 2001, 2002, and 2003