Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Nemorini X 2 for Danni's dazzling Donizetti

Wet, wet, wet. We nearly drowned at Glyndebourne on Sunday - so much for the drought - but I had quite a treat, being assigned to review L'elisir d'amore (photos by Bill Cooper/Glyndebourne): http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/classical/reviews/lrsquoelisir-drsquoamore-glyndebourne-lewes-2297043.html

It's hard to believe this was Danielle de Niese's first Adina - she doesn't half hold the stage, seemed to relish every coloratura whoosh, twirl and ping, and even made the taming of this shrew into a reasonably palatable and believable tale. She's not only a tremendous singer, but a born performer in every respect.

I really have some problems with this production, though, and wouldn't mind explaining why at more length. And now I can also offer you two tenors for the price of one...

The relationship between Adina and Nemorino is beautifully staged, but to counterbalance that dramatically you also need to believe that she could be intending to go off with Belcore. I mean, come on, she nearly marries the guy. She even gets a wedding dress. And in this 1930s take he's a Blackshirt, so the situation shouldn't be all that funny. But that relationship is staged more or less as a comedy revue and tends to be subsumed in all the fussy goings-on around - which rarely stop and, while occasionally amusing, do leave you wishing they'd just keep still even for five seconds (Nemorino does 'Una furtiva lagrima' alone and in comparative quietude beside the water pump. That's about it.) As for Dulcamara's phenomenally annoying mute, tattooed sidekick - what is he for? What's he doing, miming childbirth and other such fun and games? Why? Perhaps some wire extracted from the innards of the recreated authentic fortepiano in the pit would sort him out.

So, what happened to Stephen Costello? He was off with a sore throat and apparently had been poorly for a while. UPDATE: He has just dropped me a line saying this is the first time in his career he's ever had to cancel. I blame our British summertime...certainly on Sunday the best place a singer with a sore throat could possibly be was: tucked up somewhere warm and dry with a steam bowl.

I heard him at the dress rehearsal, though missed the first night (below, Costello as Nemorino, with Danni as Adina). Do have a read of this interview with him.

We expected him not to "sing out" for the dress, but if that wasn't singing out, and he wasn't feeling well, you wonder what it's like when he's on top form. He's an all-out, in-yer-face romantic lyric tenor: big sound, lots of overtones and undertones, bags of character and a predilection for that mannerism that starts a note some way under and swoops up to target, producing an Italian-broken-heart sound-effect while so doing. The trick is pleasingly Golden Age-ish, though it felt over-used. Glyndebourne is a small house, of course, but in this setting Costello's tone, throat problem notwithstanding, comes over as big and reasonably tough - a sound that might be more at home in Verdi than Donizetti, though in scale, projection and vibrato his seemed a more seamless match with Danni's voice than was Lee's lighter, slenderer instrument. Of the two, Costello won in 'Una furtiva lagrima', by a breath-control whisker; Lee won for charm and purity of style. Costello is to sing Alfredo at Covent Garden next season; that should suit him down to the ground. Watch that space. I reckon we'll be hearing a good bit more of both of them in the years ahead.

2 comments:

Peter S said...

You're dead right about Dulcamara's sidekick - it was so screamingly obviously a miscalculation last time round that I can't believe they have kept him in.

Really looking forward to seeing Danni in that role.

Peter

James said...

I was there on Sunday too, and agree with nearly all of what you had to say. De Niese gave a terrific charismatic performance. The way she flirted teased and taunted Nemorino made me wonder what kind of Carmen she might make some day. I was not irritated by the sidekick however, and think he added some showbiz pizzaz to Dulcemara's act that helps explain why the entire village gets so mesmerised by him. I could also see why a girl like Adina would agree to marry the flashy but insubstantial Belcore. First he was a ticket out of the claustrophobic gossipy small world of the village where reputation is all. Secondly it's not clear whether she was ever that serious about going through with it, or whether she was trying to get a reaction from Nemorino. In that respect your analogy with the taming of the shrew is very apt, as neither Kate nor Petruchio will start throwing stuff about, without first glancing back to check the other is watching. For me it's far more problematic as to why she loves Nemorino. She is just so out of his league. In the interview with Steven Costello you linked to, he compares Nemorino's character to James Stewart's screen persona, probably thinking particularly of his small town tale "It's a wonderful life". I think that is a great insight, and if you can pull it off, that would work, but the danger, not completely avoided by his understudy, is that he can come across as one or two sandwiches light of a Glyndebourne picnic, wandering on stage mainly to moon after Adina, and when people speak well of him it sometimes sounds just patronising, a bit "ahh the dear sweet thing". I think there should be something more substantial about him, and that he should have the respect of the villagers, as well as their affection pity and amusement.
But these are mere quibbles that would not even arise in the absence of the great rounded character created by DeNiese, which made one wish for her situation to require less of a suspension of disbelief. Before this revival, I had thought of this opera as much less substantial dramatically than I now believe it to be. Musically it was just superb, and everyone sang and played their cotton socks off. I particularly relished the beaming smile Mazzola gave Lee at the end of Una furtive lacrima. What a great debut he had! We all left smiling broadly having enjoyed a wonderful evening, and if I had the money and time I would happily go back to see it several times more. A tonic for the soul.