SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Rossini, Guillaume Tell (Concert Performance): Soloists, chorus and orchestra of Chelsea Opera Group. Conductor: Dominic Wheeler. Queen Elizabeth Hall, London, 23.5.2010 (JPr)


‘A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty “Hi Ho Silver!” Showing the hidden power of opera music in popular culture, smiles of recognition broke out across the faces of young and old during the final section of the long overture, forever immortalized as the theme music for ‘The Lone Ranger’ TV series in the 1950s. In fact this ‘gallop’ is only the concluding section of the four-part overture that is like a symphonic poem in miniature. Things looked good for this ambitious concert performance right from the start with the cellos, from what is only a semi-professional orchestra, providing an elegiac Prelude ushering in Rossini’s evocation of a pastoral Swiss community with the following ‘storm’ and ‘call to the dairy cows’ before the rampant ‘cavalry charge’. The swooning strings of the Chelsea Opera Group’s orchestra were the revelation of the long evening and under Dominic Wheeler’s one-handed encouragement the music seemed to be over-emphasising the beauty of the work at the expense of dramatic tension. Why ‘one-handed’? Well, the conductor had a damaged left hand in a sling.

The horns had a less good night and the men’s chorus, particularly, lacked anywhere near the numbers – or vocal talent – required to cope with Rossini’s complex choral writing. Nevertheless, there was an obvious spirited commitment from all concerned that was infectious. By the time the composer’s paean to nature, patriotism and freedom from tyranny concluded Act IV with music that Wagner, an admirer of the composer, purloined for Das Rheingold, it was impossible not to share in their joy.

COG performed Guillaume Tell in French with English surtitles. It was – as is well-documented – Rossini’s final opera; first performed at the Paris Opéra in 1829, when he was just 37 and about to embark on a long, lazy, possibly disillusioned, retirement. Potential problems with staging this work go beyond the fact that trying to show how Tell shoots the apple off his son Jemmy’s head without provoking gales of laughter brought about by some risible ‘special effect’: much more important is finding a tenor to play Arnold. This role is longer and showier than the title role for baritone whose one highlight is his Act III cavatina: which sings that before firing the bolt at his son. Overall, the singers that COG used presented an ensemble of talent rarely equalled on any London concert platform or opera house recently from my experience. However, neither the two leading singers Mark Milhofer (Arnold) or Patrizia Biccirè (Mathilde) would be likely to be cast in their roles in a staged performance for a number of reasons. This situation resurrects the debate about voices versus looks which cannot be gone into further here.

Several cuts had obviously been made to a score that can include up to about 4 hours music if not more and COG gave us something around 3¼ hours worth. Gone were the ballets, a requirement of the Paris Opéra, and most, I assume, of the extensive declamatory recitative. Despite the sudden occasional musical gear changes that these cuts caused, the story of love of country triumphing over the Arnold’s love for the woman Mathilde, shone through Rossini's score. Filled with dramatic ensembles, melodious and expressive duets and arias, the music is an intriguing mix of the heroic and the mere routine. There are some risible musical moments too, it must be admitted : I doubt that Rossini was being ironic with the relentlessly jolly music underpinning the chorus regaling how the prisoner Tell is being prepared for death in Act III.

So back now to the wonderful roster of singers led by Mark Milhofer’s Arnold who has a suitably robust French – and consequently nasal sounding - style of singing. There was never a hint of falsetto in the interspersed high notes that he hit full-on with only the occasional hint of strain. His voice was elegantly musical throughout, yet fully capable of plumbing emotional depths such as the episode when Tell informs him that his father, Melcthal, has been killed by the Austrian tyrant Gessler, before rising to the heroic heights of ‘Amis, amis, secondez ma vengeance’. This rallying cry to vanquish the Austrian occupiers of thirteenth-century Switzerland was plundered by Verdi for Manrico’s ‘Di quella pira’ in Il trovatore. Arnold’s Act II love duet with Mathilde was a delight and Patrizia Biccirè was almost Mr Milhofer’s equal with her true bel canto soprano artistry, her perfect evenness across all vocal registers and her pure and bell-like tones. I don’t know what was wrong with Jonathan Summers as Tell but, with apologies to this consummate artist, he looked as though he wished he was somewhere else. His head was rarely out of his score and despite his still fresh-sounding Italianate baritone he rarely rose to the challenges of becoming the inspirational leader that his people were constantly singing about.

Generally the supporting cast were admirable with Eva Ganizate’s courageous Jemmy, Sarah Pring’s stalwart Hedwige, Luciano Bothelho’s plaintive Ruodi, Dwayne Jones’s domineering Rodolphe and Frédéric Bourreau’s baleful Walter, all making a considerable impression.

One small criticism is that to see the singers dressed so formally in either evening gowns or white tie and tails felt incongruous and spoilt the concert performance just a little for me. It does nothing to help the singers bring across the drama of what they are singing either and was particularly ridiculous in the case of the pert and elegantly dressed Eva Ganizate in the trouser-role of Tell’s son. She was referred to in Act IV as having the courage to prove ‘he is a man’ but looking and sounding as she did, I can assure you she was no more a man than Brünnhilde! All the singers had music stands and were often distanced from those they were singing to: at one point while Tell was addressing Jemmy, Jonathan Summers actually had his back to ‘him’. But these are problems I have always had with COG’s performances since I first saw my first one decades ago: plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose!

Jim Pritchard