After the success of
Anna Bolena, premiered at La Scala on
December 28th 1830, Donizetti’s
position as one of Italy’s leading opera
composers alongside Rossini and Bellini
was assured. However, like his compatriots,
he was to discover that such success
did not guarantee that the works to
follow would be similarly acclaimed
whatever their musical merits. Between
the premiere of Anna Bolena and that
of L’Elisir d’Amore in May 1832, Donizetti
composed five operas none of which was
successful at the time, one not being
staged until 1839! Frustrated by the
censors in Naples, who always wanted
happy endings, the composer broke his
contract there, freeing himself to accept
more frequent commissions elsewhere.
He was approached to write an opera
for the Canobbiana theatre in Milan
when the contracted composer withdrew.
The great, if vain and irascible, poet
Romani produced a libretto in a week
and Donizetti composed the music in
little over two. It was an overwhelming
success and received an unprecedented
31 performances. L’Elisir d’Amore is
more opera buffa than comic opera but
the style of the melodic music superbly
conveys the conflicting emotions of
the participants. The work has always
had a place in the repertoire both in
Italy and other major operatic centres.
The story of L’Elisir
d’Amore concerns the illiterate, rather
gauche, country boy Nemorino (tenor)
who loves Adina (sop), a wealthy neighbour,
who spurns his offers of love. She sings
to her friends of the love potion that
bound Tristan and Isolde. Hearing her,
Nemorino dreams of obtaining such a
potion. A lively march heralds the arrival
of sergeant Belcore (bar) and his platoon.
He quickly impresses Adina and proposes
marriage whilst Nemorino tries to convince
her of the sincerity of his love. With
a fanfare Dulcamara (buffa bass), a
quack doctor arrives, selling a ‘cure-all’
potion. In the cavatina Udite, udite,
o rustici he extols the virtues
of his potion (Ch. 12). Dulcamara convinces
Nemorino that his potion will bring
Adina to love him and the naïve
boy buys a bottle with what money he
has. In reality the potion is nothing
more than red wine. Nemorino keeps sipping
it and soon becomes more confident if
slightly tipsy. He feigns indifference
to Adina, which nettles her, and she
promises to marry Belcore (trio Ch 18).
To purchase more of Dulcamara’s potion
Nemorino, having no more money, has
to sign to join Belcore’s troupe. He
does so with a large X. When Adina discovers
from Dulcamara what Nemorino has done
to buy the potion, and why, she relents
and decides to win him by her eyes and
smile. Nemorino notices a tear in her
eye and sings the famous romanza Una
furtive lagrima (Ch. 33). Adina
tells him of her love and all ends well
with Belcore reflecting that there will
always be girls in the next village.
The Met’s staging takes
the story at its fairy tale value. The
sets and costumes are in period and
the scene changes are swift, facilitated
by flown additions to a basic tiered
stage and steps. The costumes are lavish
and sets colourful. These complement
the overall fun and gaiety of the music.
Dr Dulcamara arrives in a resplendent
coach drawn by mock horses whose articulated
legs move! John Copley’s direction of
the cast is equally felicitous. I particularly
liked the way he positions and uses
the chorus who have a major part in
the opera. With the principals he has
more of a problem, as they are not all
even moderate actors. Juan Pons’ Belcore
is particularly wooden whilst Pavarotti’s
idea of acting is the odd raised eyebrow
on a blank face. This lack of expression,
together with his size and tapestry
jerkin, makes his portrayal more of
a country bumpkin than yokel and Adina’s
change of heart more improbable. In
compensation we have Pavarotti’s well-known
vocal virtues in this role including
his two studio recordings (Decca 1973
and DG 1989). His open-toned vocal production,
clear diction and graceful phrasing
are evident from Nemorino’s opening
cavatina Quanto e bella (Ch.
4) to the glorious quartet finale of
principals and chorus (Ch. 37). As might
be expected his rendition of Una
furtiva lagrima (Ch. 33) brings
the house down. In reality there is
not as much sap in his voice as there
was at his peak in the 1970s. All the
same, at the time of this performance
there were few tenors around who could
match him for tonal beauty and style.
Juan Pons has a fine baritone voice
which, like his acting, lacks much variation
or expression. Donizetti’s music gives
Belcore every opportunity to swagger
or vocally seduce; Pons ignores them
and cannot even follow Pavarotti’s expressiveness
in Venti scudi (Ch. 29) whilst
his manner of putting a military hat
on the tenor makes them both look rather
ridiculous. Fortunately, in addition
to the idiomatic conducting of James
Levine and committed and vibrant singing
of the chorus, the other two principal
singers are among the best actors on
the operatic stage. If neither Kathleen
Battle as Adina nor Enzo Dara as Doctor
Dulcamara are perfect vocally, when
they are on the stage, fortunately most
of the time in arias and ensembles,
the performance becomes wholly enjoyable
as a dramatic entity. Although my ideal
Adina would have a little more body
and colour in her tone, Kathleen Battle’s
coloratura and vocal expression are
like her acted portrayal, completely
convincing. Her physical vitality and
variety of facial expression and body
language are ideal. It says much for
Enzo Dara’s portrayal of Dulcamara that
his histrionic skills surpass those
of Kathleen Battle. The Rossini and
Donizetti buffa of his generation, his
acted portrayal of the duplicitous Doctor
is perfection from the moment he steps
out of his resplendent carriage and
launches into Udite, udite, o rustici
(Chs.11-12) to his second, rather
cruel, conning of the plausible Nemorino.
Only a touch of dryness in his tone
stops me awarding his portrayal the
very highest accolade.
Some productions in
Europe have updated the action and put
a more utilitarian, even political,
perspective on the plot of this delightful
rustic opera. The Met, as always, takes
a more traditional view and plays it
as the composer intended. As I have
noted the work is more opera buffa than
simple comic opera in that it has a
cruel bite at its core as well as a
happy ending. The Stanford University
website listing of Donizetti’s operas
describes it as such, whilst the accompanying
booklet describes it as ‘Melodramma’
in two acts. Whatever, this Met production,
well caught by Brian Large the highly
experienced video director, catches
the essence of the work and staging
as presented by the theatre. The colourful
sets and opulent costumes of this production
are a perfect complement to Donizetti’s
melodic music. Recommended to all lovers
of traditional productions.
Robert J Farr
DEUTSCHE
GRAMMOPHON DVD VIDEO 000440 073 4021 GH [128:00]
