Opera
La Cenerentota (Royal Opera) The Secret Marriage (Opera North)
Unintentional comedy
Michael Tanner
The revival of Rossini's La Cenerentola was one of those evenings that I enjoyed, though, looking back on it, it's hard to say why. The production, by the Leiser-Caurier team, is short on charm and not long on laughs, and there is little of the pathos and the ambiguity in the portrayal of Cenerentola which is one of the most discussed features of this opera. The story itself has a potency, at least for me, which almost transcends the medium of its presentation, and much of Rossini's music is in his best vein, even if it wears rather thin before the end of the evening, Act II being of mainly inferior calibre to Act i, which is also so long — and really satisfies all one's instincts except that for vengeance — that I could go home happily in the interval. Admittedly in a production and with performers that penetrate beneath the surface, and find perhaps to their surprise that there is something deeper to be found, as was the case with the La Scala production which came to the Royal Opera in 1976, the high claims made for the work can seem justified.
The present revival seems more determinedly semi-farcical than it was the first time round, largely because the romantic interest seems so recessive. The two principals, taken by Vesselina Kasarova and Juan Diego Florez, are highly rated singers, but their gifts are specialised and don't readily interact. Florez is content to do almost nothing except what he does best, which is stratospheric coloratura; acting is beneath him; he stands, or occasionally kneels, and effectively delivers, not appearing to mind whether or not he has an appreciative audience on the stage — he certainly does have in the audience. Kasarova, whom I admired passionately when I heard her first CDs — I suppose a decade ago — hasn't developed much artistically, and her voice is less appealing than it was. She goes for low
lunges. and the combination of that with Florez's near yelps makes for comedy of an unintended kind. Where her predecessor in the role, Sonia Ganassi, at least projected, Kasarova is an uncommunicative performer, and has no radiance when she arrives in her fairy limousine for the ball. Her final appearance has her still in her humble working clothes, under her cloak, which could be a telling touch; but they seem merely to suit her better.
More pleasure is to be found in the two wicked rather than ugly sisters of Emma Dogliani and Leah-Marian Jones, who go for some subtle as well as obvious effects, and make one feel that not all the right is on Cenerentola's side. Their villainous, lunatic father is taken, as almost always, by Simone Alaimo, now at a point where the sheer frequency with which he has sung the role is beginning to show, Worryingly, Alessandro Corbelli, in the sympathetic, more complicated role of Dandini, was unable to produce any plausible Rossinian singing, and one might have suspected illness. Evelino Pido conducts efficiently, if without the specific qualities which Mark Elder found in the score.
The next evening Opera North revived in Leeds, and will be taking on tour, Cimarosa's post-Mozartian, proto-Rossinian The Secret Marriage. I remember seeing a large part of it on a television in Naples many decades ago, and wondering which Mozart opera it was. Actually, the action and the ambience of the work are more farcical than Mozart would ever have wanted to be. but the idiom, whatever influences may have been at work, is mostly remarkably close to his.
It takes a little time to stop oneself comparing Marriage unfavourably to the Da Ponte operas, but once one does there's a lot of fun to be had, and some pathos. Opera North's production is notable for teamwork rather than for any outstanding individual performances, but Mark Tinkler has revived Jonathan Miller's 1993 production with vigour, and Wyn Davies keeps things moving along musically without seeming to bustle, which can be an irritating feature of this opera. Reading opera plots is a quick route to desperation if not insanity, and this one seems, in summary, worse than most; but in the event it is quite lucid, and one is grateful for the austere, functional set, virtually devoid of props and unchanging, which at no point seems inadequate.
A despotic, deaf father has plans for his daughters which involve a rich English Count, and of course ignore the daughters' wishes and feelings. The Count is both foolish and a good sort, so quite a shrewd piece of portrayal. Richard Morrison does him very well. It's of the essence that the acting should be close to excess but never lapse into it, and in Leeds it's just right — I hope things stay just the same throughout the run. This opera keeps a tenuous foothold in the repertoire, and that is exactly right. It does deserve bigger audiences than it got on the first night.
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