By Natalia Di Bartolo – Lucia di Lammermoor, Donizettian dream, cross and delight for every soprano, masterpiece from masterpiece by Walter Scott; in short: a relic. And as such the relics must be treated.
At Teatro alla Scala in Milan, on April 14, 2023, the masterpiece of Gaetano Donizetti it went on stage amid everyone's wait, postponed as it had been for the pandemic. Everyone, therefore, with bated breath listening and watching the staging of the first version, that of 1835, chosen by the Maestro Concertatore and Orchestra Conductor Riccardo Chailly.
Master Chailly did not make an easy choice, in the sense that many uninformed music lovers found themselves deprived, in the scene of madness, of the so-called “flute cadence”, as it is handed down to us, from the brilliant whim of the Australian soprano Nellie Melba who in 1889, at the Palais Garnier, interpreted "his version" of Donizetti's scene, after ten days of rehearsals to perfect it, obtaining a resounding success: his version, already in 1893, was now “canonized”. With Melba, Lucia passes by crazy for love from the early nineteenth century tohysterical of the end of the century, on the imprint of the writings on hysteria that were proliferating in that period.
But, neglecting to delve into the interesting psychiatric topic, which potentially influences both musical and stage performance, let us go back to the version performed under the direction of M° Chailly, with a’Orchestra of the Teatro alla Scala nothing short of amazing, who followed and indulged him with elegance and measure.
The agogic choice of Chailly it was that of the pressing of the times. Not so much by altering its duration, as by enhancing its romantic value and therefore no longer fin de siècle à la Melba, but precisely according to the contemporary canons of writing, capturing the aforementioned psychological fact, but perhaps enhancing its lyricism more than its heroism or tragedy. The conducting, therefore, was impeccable and, obviously, Director Chailly's baton can only be praised: chisel in the dynamics, support for the Coro, which has an important value in the Opera, support for the performers, great cohesion, as mentioned, in the orchestra.
And here, therefore, is the time to land on the scene, with a cast that has made noise while waiting to be listened to: the wait to listen Lisette Oropesa as Lucia and perhaps, above all, Juan Diego Florez in the part of Edgardo, outside of its Rossini cliché or at least generally free from it “tragic romantic”.
Lisette Oropesa she gave her best, both vocally and scenically, but that didn't mean she proved to be a fully credible Lucia. Musically absolutely correct and attentive to the spasm of winds and pauses, to the modifications of cadenzas and libretto, to the accompaniment with the glassharmonica, the American soprano does not, however, enjoy a particular expressive capacity for identification. The profoundly tragic sense of the character has been lost, despite the efforts also acting by the protagonist, precisely due to the nature of her voice, which has also appeared to become thinner compared to her parameters, and her little character “flammable”. Not even the choice of the director who brought her back from the office helped her’hysteria the crazy for love, nor did they enhance her hairstyle and 1940s costumes (we will come back to the subject).
In contrast, by his side John Diego Florence, Edgar, as always, however, all heart and love, he revealed a full-bodied voice, supported by a romantic inspiration “new” for him, that it suits him and that maybe he showed himself as some kind of “ransom” with respect to advancing age and changing vocality. But it changes without damage, despite some wanting to find the usual nitpick and decree some defaillance; so much so that, although he too was not helped by the costumes and even less so by the director, he tried to explore the romantic and tragic side of the character, making him perhaps the most credible on stage or, in any case, the most empathetic and, vocally, decidedly the best.
Without infamy and without praise, the baritone Boris Pinkhasovich he professionally supported the role of his brother Enrico, gifted with a voice that has nothing particularly interesting or pleasant about it, also maintaining a spasmodic, perhaps excessive, care in covering the sound in favor of projection. In his favor, however, was the contained interpretation, which did not overflow into the cruelty of the executioner brother, as often happens.
Our Michele Pertusi, as Raimondo, accustomed to all the bass roles that the now (alas) old generation of great basses (to which he too, after all, belongs) no longer practices as soon as they leave the scene, for vocal quality and experience, obviously, he has received deserved success.
Pleasant and very correct the supporting actors: Leonardo Cortellazzi, Arthur; Valentina Pluzhnikova, Alice and Giorgio Misseri, Norman. Of the Chorus, directed by Alberto Malazzi, it was already said well.
And here we return to florez: it made me want to listen to him with my eyes closed, because, we don't know why, it seems that the costume designers always dress him in the same way for any role: with a dark coat with squeezed shoulders and a martingale; and, at most, change shirt or T-shirt under the main garment. A sort of unpleasant icon, not so much the fault of poor Flórez, but, also in this case, due to the scarce imagination of Yannis Kokkos, to which direction and scenes were also due.
The Kokkos it established a kind of static posture for all performers and especially for the masses. He left Flórez, first, to himself and the tenor, who does not possess particular expressive acting skills, truly worked miracles. Oropesa, even more so, due to her nature, would have needed greater guidance in favor of credibility, she too with the 1940s dresses, chosen by the director as the setting period, which everyone wore and which blended into their style out of place with a grim, alien cemetery setting, equally out of place. Rifles and pistols in hand, the performers: swords and daggers banned from the scene…But then Edgardo, in a sudden directorial inspiration of adherence to the libretto, is forced to commit suicide not with a dagger, but with a squalid switchblade, which he keeps in the pocket of his coat and which he must first open: found unworthy even of the most blatant direction of Cavalleria Rusticana.
All born from the mind of the director, who, according to him, modernized the issue “historic” of the Opera (which is instead important, also for directorial purposes: Scottish history is spoken of very clearly in the libretto!) intended to underline the now inflated, albeit motivated, exaltation of the condemnation of “violence against women”. Nothing new under the sun, indeed, under the gloss that reflected in the scenes adorned with huge symbolic statues and in the floor, opening up to the’ inevitable stairway in the background, with the lights by Vinicio Cheli, in a grey, dark and unreal atmosphere.
Great success with the public, as expected, with expression, majority and unveiled, of dissent for the director, with good reason.
Natalia Dantas ©
Photos Brescia and Amisano