Verdi's
La Traviata might not seem an obvious choice to perform against the vast Roman wall of Orange, but there was universal enthusiasm from the nine thousand spectators on the first night of Les Chorégies (July 11). The task of staging Verdi's intimate drama was entrusted to Frédéric Bélier-Garcia, with the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France conducted by Myung-Whun Chung.
From the opening bars of the prelude, Chung created an atmosphere of concentrated precision, evidencing a complete understanding of Verdi and a masterful control of his forces in a venue known to be difficult in terms of balance and ensemble. He was constantly attentive to his singers, allowing them enough freedom while retaining a firm grip on the ensemble in an evening that was — inevitably — interrupted by applause.
Bélier-Garcia's production avoided overdoing the crowd scenes: we were spared jugglers, charging dancers and performing animals — always a danger here. This
Traviata was a simple telling of the story, but the additional elements of scenery were dwarfed by the grandeur of the surroundings. The production did, however, have one moving and striking staging touch: at the end of the gambling scene, Violetta collapsed, and all of Flora's guests left the stage slowly, underlining Violetta's tragic social isolation as she began the final act.
The performance was centered on the Violetta of Patrizia Ciofi, who had a previous triumph here as Donizetti's Lucia. The soprano's dark, veiled voice does not possess a central octave of sufficient power to fill the vast open spaces of Orange, but she is a concentrated artist and drew the public into her performance here, phrasing her Act I aria with lines of miraculous length and ducking none of the technical hurdles of the cabaletta, which she crowned with a secure E flat. Act II was heartbreaking: this voice of tears and shadows perfectly suited "Dite alla giovine" — and how wonderful it was to hear the Italian handled with such communicative beauty, leading to a final act of hushed regret! Physically, Ciofi is the Violetta of one's dreams, moving from loose-limbed party girl to pale consumptive. Ciofi and Vittorio Grigolo's Alfredo Germont made a handsome couple. Grigolo scored a success here last year in the Verdi Requiem, and his return in an opera role was eagerly anticipated. The tenor's caddish good looks and warm, evenly produced voice have everything needed to please the public here. He was given Alfredo's Act II cabaletta, which he ended with a crowd-pleasing high note; elsewhere, he was musical and contributed some fine soft singing in the final act. The only thing lacking in his performance was an individual and memorable turn of phrase, which should come with experience.
Marzio Giossi gave a correct but under-projected performance as Germont
père; he also was allowed his Act II cabaletta, but his slightly gravelly tone suggested he was not in his best voice. If this confrontation is to be dramatically believable, there has to be paternal love evident, not just stiff disapproval. The supporting cast was variable in quality, but the ear-catching Flora of Laura Brioli deserves a mention, as does the attractive timbre of tenor Julien Dran as Giuseppe, Violetta's servant in Act II.
The second opera of the Chorégies paid tribute to those eternal operatic twins, Mascagni's
Cavalleria Rusticana and Leoncavallo's
Pagliacci. Performed less frequently nowadays in France than in the past, the pairing gave the chance for festival hero Roberto Alagna to take on the challenge of assuming the tenor leads in both operas. With a media presence in France that any politician would envy, the tenor is at home here with his fans. There were other reasons to celebrate on August 1, including the presence of eighty-five-year-old maestro Georges Prêtre in the pit at the head of the Orchestre National de France and the quality supporting casts for Jean-Claude Auvray's productions.
A raised walkway and predominantly Christian imagery for
Cavalleria, a traveling troupe setup for
Pagliacci were the simple but effective designs for the two operas. The production attempted little in the way of reinterpretation other than transposing the works to a post-World War II setting reminiscent of Italian neo-realist films of the period. Auvray is a true professional and managed to make the vast stage work to his advantage, drawing fine acting from the cast and retaining the taut dramatic control these works need.
Alagna was ideal in
Cavalleria, finding the right Sicilian nonchalance, looking bored and exasperated with poor Santuzza and sporting a dashing playboy grin whenever he caught a glimpse of Anne-Catherine Gillet's vampy Lola, who stood out from the rest of the drab villagers, thanks to her startling pink dress. The loving Mamma Lucia of Stefania Toczyska was moving in her Catholic devotion as she tried to trust in her wayward son. Vocally, Alagna was in fine form, grabbing the music by the consonants, with a hard palatal projection to give the music its rough edge. Some of the high notes ran a little sharp, but it mattered little in the excitement of the arena. Prêtre wallowed in the beauty of the intermezzo and brought loving musical detail to the score. If the ensemble was sometimes rocky, it seemed a relatively minor flaw when set against the musical vision of this great maestro. Béatrice Uria-Monzon was a plummy Santuzza, with the right desperate sincerity and fading beauty, but the role sounded at the limit of the mezzo's vocal range.
Alagna was not the only singer taking on double roles: another favorite here, baritone Seng-Hyoun Ko, sang both
Cav's rough-hewn Alfio and the malevolent Tonio in
Pagliacci. In both roles, he was at his very best, with vibrant, penetrating tone, ideal for an outdoor performance, and his phrasing was more apt for this verismo repertoire than in his Verdi outings here. He also revealed unforeseen comic talents in
Pagliacci, suggesting an evil yet mobile clown with quick angular movements and almost earning an encore for his searing prologue. Alagna was dramatically less at ease as Canio: this sort of dramatic role stretches his lyric voice beyond its natural limits, but he is an exceptional communicator. He rose to the challenge of "Vesti la giubba" and the final scene with the sort of full-throated energy and star quality that carries an evening. Stéphane Degout was an exemplary Silvio, but his voice, though smooth, is probably a size too small for the role in this particular venue, something that was true to a lesser extent of Inva Mula's otherwise admirable Nedda. In a role that gave her an unusual opportunity to act, Mula seized on every chance to control the situation until the final tragic denouement, which Prêtre brought to a searing climax. All of the artists, including the chorus, were welcomed by tumultuous applause from the near-capacity crowd, as the first raindrops of a thunderstorm began to fall.
STEPHEN J. MUDGE
Send feedback to OPERA NEWS.
