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This one starts off rough, but allow me to offer three words of advice: Stick with it.
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This performance begins fairly lackluster, with singing that is, quite frankly (and brutally) unpleasant, particularly from the two prima donnas, Amarilli Nizza and Julia Gertseva. The men (Jose Cura as Edgar, Marco Vratogna as Frank and Carlo Cigni as Gualtiero) aesthetic considerably better.
For whatever reasons (and keeping with the fresh “update” trend) Lorenzo Mariani moves the action up – SIX HUNDRED YEARS – so instead of a medieval narrative of lust, blood and redemption, the whole thing looks very “Sunday in the Park With George” – in fact, the unit station is a lush, long grassed expanse like a meadow or unkempt park, steeply raked to appear hilly and fitted with grand columns giving the feeling of a field reach a courtyard. It’s beautiful to spy at and . . . eventually, makes a terrific setting.
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If you reflect you know Edgar well, (as I did), you’re imperfect. This is the novel four act version that received only three performances – at La Scala in April 1889, was declared a failure, and place away never to be heard again, except in a variety of truncated three act versions. The Fourth act is a revelation and consists primarily of a nearly half an hour of music for Edgar and Fidelia – an almost Wagnerian length duet, broken up with asides, choruses – pumping out an array of explosive emotions ranging from the tenderness and elation of appreciate, to the crowds howling at the villainess as she’s dragged off to the executioner’s sword. It is thrilling.
The second act is slightly funny – where I’ve always imagined a filthy 14th century orgy trustworthy of Hieronymus Bosch what we examine is the same grassy park of act one but now with those circular Victorian-era sofas each wrapped around the columns of the first act. The woman are horrible gotten up in bloomers and account for bustiers, their hair piled high a la “Gibson Girl” – and a sextette of them are donned up in Eartha Kit Catwoman masks and long red opera gloves. The whole thing feels like The Best Limited Whorehouse in Texas decided to mount The Merry Widow. Julia Gertseva, pleasing to seek at vocally not at all impressive in Act I, here reveals a sizeable high mezzo, with amazingly free top notes, the recount sailing through Puccini’s “broad girl” music with no fears. In gloomy and red, with a kind of comical tiara, she creates a bright, deceptively shallow creature that is one piece Lady Macbeth, two parts Thais. (When Edgar abruptly stops making worship to her when he hears the military trumpets, you can throw in one portion of Carmen, too!) . The scenario is a tough one to tumble for, but by this point you unprejudiced have to go with it.
The glory of Edgar is its third act, Puccini’s stunningly handsome Requiem, and everything goes moral here (even if it looks like a scene from Jane Eyre or Bleak House) . The chorus is terrific, the children’s chorus touching and effective and most of all, Amarilli Nizza makes you forget her awkward first act by giving a performance that is soul searing. Her “Addio, mio dolce amor” lets out all the stops, and the glory of her state – a free and remarkably thrilling top – gives gooseflesh. She dominates the ensemble that follows and her second aria over the shouts of Edgar and the villagers, as she defends the memory of the man all own tedious, before she and the others leave for home, is infinitely curious.
Tigrana’s reappearance – to pay her respects, grieve and invent her first attempt at prayer – is fouled by being status up and horribly taunted by Edgar and Frank, before she gives in to their offer to betray Edgar’s memory. Edgar’s revelation provokes another response entirely from the reassembled crowd and the act ends in a moment that is as theatrically compelling and musically thrilling as anything else Puccini was to give us over the ensuing decades. It is a phenomenal moment and a grand curtain bringer downer.
The final act opens with Fidelia in her wedding hide, kneeling under and embracing the flowering almond tree she fell in worship with Edgar. She has been keeping vigil and the aria about her dream of marrying Edgar in heaven – which on paper sounds almost comically naive – is simply resplendent as handled b Ms. Nizza. Carlo Cigni’s Gualtiero’s rich, magnificent bass baritone soars beautifully over the chorus in his prayer. Marco Vratogna doesn’t secure a lot to do as Frank, but his actorly presence is strongly felt throughout each act and when he sings, it’s with an impressive tell.
Jose Cura has a major success as Edgar, this performance finding him mostly in sparkling advise – the top notes piquant and every once in a while a radiant hint of squillo creeps in that made me go “oh yeah!.” He croons a bit in some of the softer music, sounding like he’s coming in for a rough area at the destroy of one of his duets with Fidelia. (To her credit Nizza, who sounded as though prepared to enjoy onto that stamp duet for eternity, cuts it off short like a moral stage partner) .
Yoram David leads an a sometimes clunky, but mostly inspiring and stunning performance from the Teatro Regio Torino forces. There are moments that feel under-rehearsed or not conception too great about, for instance he doesn’t really milk some of the Requiem music which cries at times for a more large reading while here it can be unbiased a bit foursquare. But, mostly he gets it fair and the biggest moments ring out with a feverish passion that a work like this needs.
The accompanying pamphlet gives a nice article about the work. Of broad interest is how Linda Fairtile had been trying to re-orchestrate the fourth act, believed to either have been destroyed or forever lost, from Ricordi’s piano-only version, when she was approached by Puccini’s granddaughter, who brought with her the entire paunchy acquire which hadn’t been seen in 121 years!
I’ve been a bit surprised a discovery of this magnitude wasn’t more publicized, but this is a novel – and downright queer – opera, but don’t let that set you off. And don’t give up after Act 1 – it’s so very, very worth sticking with it!
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