Donizetti : Don Pasquale
The Chorus of Don Pasquale
The Orchestra of Scottish Opera
Francesco Corti
Before making any other comments about this performance, I have to state that my seat in the auditorium presented me with a serious problem. I had suspected it with Don Giovanni earlier this season, but tonight made it very clear; at three rows from the front of the stalls, we are too close to the orchestra, and lower voices simply do not cross the footlights. Or, probably more accurately, they go straight over our heads. In either event, when the orchestra is playing anything over mezzo-forte, low-voiced soloists become virtually inaudible. I'll be looking to shift our seats before May, or Madama Butterfly will be intolerable.
Don Pasquale, loosely based on Ben Jonson's play The Silent Woman, with a sideways look at the traditions of the commedia dell'arte thrown in, adapts well to modern dress; I think I've seen it set more often in 20th Century garb than in 19th. As the characters more or less correspond to age-old archetypes, it almost doesn't matter when it's set, it tends to work anyway. There may be one or two elements that jar, but rarely enough to really throw you out of harmony with the piece altogether. Scottish Opera's new production, for example, by the Franco-Canadian team of Doucet & Barbe, is set in the Swinging Sixties, with Pasquale as the proprietor of a ramshackle Roman pensione - and that's where I jibbed just a bit, because Pasquale is supposed to be a wealthy man, and it hardly looked it here. Nor is writing him off as a miser appropriate, because he's not. On the other hand, it gives Norina's independence a bit more heft, and the designs were fun, especially at the start of Act 3, when "Sofronia" has had the place redecorated with the latest, trendiest, psychedelic designs.
The whole stage design was pretty ingenious, with the space split into two levels, the reception of the pensione on the lower half, and a sun-terrace on the upper half, above which surrounding Roman tenement buildings dizzyingly tilted their way into the skewed perspective, and which were cleverly separated by lines of vertically mobile laundry concealing upper or lower halves as required. There were also a lot of amusing touches in the direction; when Malatesta first arrives, he puts his hand in front of the dozing (and ancient) bell-boy's mouth, just to make sure he's still breathing, and the accompaniment to Ernesto's serenade comes from a portable record player on the back of his bicycle. Sometimes it got a little too much - the antics of the slovenly maid, who clearly has designs on the padrone herself, got a little tedious - but as a whole, it avoided the thornier issues of everyone's behaviour and motivation in favour of good, honest entertainment.
In view of my acoustical difficulties, neither Alfonso Antoniozzi (Pasquale) nor Nicholas Lester (Malatesta) were able to make much impact vocally on me, as every time they needed to really give voice, I lost them in the orchestra. At quieter levels, Antoniozzi's voice is sounding a little worn, but there was a real comic presence, never pushed too far into caricature, so that his Pasquale avoided the kind of ridicule that borders on contempt. Lester was a blander presence, both vocally and physically. The voice sounds agreeable, but needs more character. I forgive him for flubbing his first fast section in the "Aspetta, aspetta" duet, though; if you're not Italian, it's almost impossible to pull off the patter cleanly, and Corti wasn't handing out any gifts in that area. He's not especially inclined to subtlety, Maestro Corti, but given the dominance of the orchestral sound, the vivacity of the playing was a pleasure to hear all the same.
Aldo Di Toro wasn't being given any gifts by the production either, his Ernesto hardly looked like any sort of romantic lead, and I didn't like the way the Serenade was performed, a little rushed, almost perfunctory, with a rather hard tone. It was quite deliberate, a conscious production choice, but really, he deserved the shoe thrown at him by an irate (on-stage) neighbour. Apart from that, though, his Ernesto was good, with a clean timbre marred only very occasionally by a couple of too-closed vowel sounds. It was clear, however (as it usually is in most productions) that it is Norina who's going to rule the roost in that household, and Ruth Jenkins-Róbertsson gave a sparkling performance in that role. Although she could do with a better-defined trill, her bright voice with its fast, but well-controlled vibrato, suits this sort of part. She's clear without being shrill, the coloratura is generally good, and the top notes sound easy, and that's exactly what you want - not to have to be concerned for the Norina's vocal abilities. I thought her kittenish mode was a bit laboured, but it was part of a running joke in the production, and otherwise her perky wiles were appropriately alluring. A bit of a madam, but a rather charming one.
Just an additional note to say that I approved of the updating of the English translation shown in the surtitles. It was small things - motor cars for horses and carriages, or updating the currency and values (instead of 900 scudi, a million and a half lire), for example - but it kept things in context comfortably without distortion. If you're going to update the visual setting, it's worth carrying the concept through to the translation, if appropriate.
[Next : 2nd February]
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