Zandonai : Francesca da Rimini
Metropolitan Opera Chorus and Orchestra
Marco Armiliato
When it comes to stagings of rarely heard operas, these days the Baroque is very clearly favoured over later periods, and most particularly over the turn of the 20th Century, from, say, 1880 to 1940. Sometimes I think it has to be because modern audiences are more comfortable with the highly stylised, very structured world of Baroque opera than with the more dishevelled, heart-on-sleeve outpourings at the start of the last century. Other times, when I'm feeling less charitable about it, I'm inclined to think it's because the earlier style is maybe a little 'easier' on the performers. In neither case are we talking about resurrecting lost masterpieces; the masterpieces are out there and known, they form the core of our usual operatic fare. There are, however, plenty of minor gems, but the problem with the plethora of very attractive, but second-rank titles to be found in the European repertory circa 1900 is that in order to be fully appreciated, you need performances of the utmost skill and commitment to pull them off. Masterpieces can pretty much withstand the most fearsome hack jobs. Second-stringers need more work.
When the Met re-staged Francesca da Rimini for the first time since its American premiere in 1918, it was brought back as a vehicle for Renata Scotto. If, by the time of those performances, her voice was not quite what it had been, she more than compensated for any lack with her compelling stage presence, and produced a Francesca that was a remarkable blend of vulnerability and steely strength, and she was well matched by an ardent Plácido Domingo at the height of his powers. That was the memory (happily preserved on DVD) that had to be equalled, if not overcome, by Saturday's broadcast of a revival of that same Piero Faggioni production.
The production looks as handsome now as it did then, although by today's standards it is certainly a little cumbersome (resulting in three intervals and a lengthy break in the last act). Still, the lush Pre-Raphaelite designs by Faggioni's then regular team of Frigerio/Squarciapino are a visual treat, especially the lavishly embroidered costumes, straight out of Rosetti or Burne-Jones, wholly appropriate for D'Annunzio's overblown, neo-Renaissance imagery, and Zandonai's deliberately archaised melodic lines. The playing of the Met orchestra too made the most of the rich orchestration, lovingly directed by Marco Armiliato, and paced as smoothly and swiftly as the repeated intermissions allowed. There is little significant chorus work in the piece, but a considerable number of secondary roles, in particular Francesca's four ladies-in-waiting, very nicely sung, and a striking performance from Ginger Costa-Jackson as Smaragdi. Ms. Costa-Jackson's c.v. lists her as a mezzo, but she has an extraordinarily dark tone, as close to a true contralto as I've heard in many years.
Things were a little less agreeable with the four principals. Mark Delavan's hulking presence and stentorian tone were well enough suited to the brutish Gianciotto - he's a singer I've liked for a while now, but Gianciotto doesn't get all that much to do. Robert Brubaker looked ridiculously old for the supposedly adolescent Malatestino, and I like a reedier, more insinuating tenor better for this role. It too is short, but is required to make an impact; he's a nasty piece of work, and you should be made to feel it.
Marcello Giordani was in poor form, alternately bleating and shouting, displaying all the worst characteristics that have put me off him in the past, and there was precious little chemistry between his Paolo and Eva-Maria Westbroek's Francesca. As for Westbroek herself, she seems to have become the go-to soprano of the moment, taking on a multitude of very disparate roles with apparent ease, and maybe a little too much facility, because there was a sort of fundamental placidity to her reading of Francesca that deprived the character of any true depth, never mind conviction. Although she was secure vocally, there was a lack of lyricism to her singing, perhaps a certain quality of italianitá missing to impart some vibrancy to the part.
Without a convincing pair of lovers at its heart, there's no denying that Francesca da Rimini loses much of its focus. As suggested earlier, it's one of those secondary pieces that certainly deserves an outing, but those outings need to be more thoughtfully cast than this ended up being.
[Next: April 9th]
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