The overwhelming popularity of Cav and Pag means 
                  that verismo opera tends to be associated with violent 
                  passions bursting through a thin surface of respectability, 
                  family loyalty and religious devotion among “real life” 
                  working class communities. 
                  
                  But it is not only peasants or factory workers who live real 
                  lives.  Princesses, counts, secret policemen and anarchists 
                  live them too and, providing they steer clear of the more fantastical 
                  trappings of the operatic stage, can be just as verismo 
                  as those more familiar betrayed young women or jealous clowns 
                  on the verge of utter madness. 
                    
                  Similarly, while Mascagni’s and Leoncavallo’s warhorses 
                  encourage us to think of the genre as largely confined to the 
                  impoverished communities of the hot Italian south, verismo 
                  action is just as true to life in St Petersburg, Paris or Berne 
                  - the settings in Fedora - as in Salerno, Palermo or 
                  Brindisi. 
                    
                  Less well known than it ought to be, Fedora remained 
                  - apart from the tenor’s brief but show-stopping aria 
                  Amor ti vieta - largely unheard from the 1930s until 
                  the 1990s when this very production spearheaded a steady revival 
                  of interest. That rebirth quickly built up a head of steam and 
                  the stars here, Freni and Domingo, can actually be found on 
                  rival DVD sets - this one from 1993 (previously available on 
                  the TDK label) and a Metropolitan Opera production from New 
                  York that was recorded four years later (DG DVD 073 2329). 
                    
                  The first thing to note about the performance under consideration 
                  is that both Freni and Domingo were at the height of their powers. 
                  Both sing magnificently and very movingly and they act, too, 
                  with real commitment, putting into practice a philosophy that 
                  Freni had expressed a few years earlier: “You cannot sing 
                  on stage the way you do in the Conservatoire. You have to do 
                  it with all your heart, you have to feel the meaning of the 
                  words, and experience the dramatic truth at every moment; you 
                  have to know how to listen to the music coming out of the pit 
                  and how to blend your sound with the orchestra’s. Operatic 
                  singing is not an academic act, it is an artistic act.” 
                  (Quoted in Diva: great sopranos and mezzos discuss their 
                  art by Helena Matheopoulos [London, 1991], p.93.) 
                    
                  While, however, the sounds these artists make are truly magnificent 
                  and their acting on is very well done indeed, there is one particular 
                  caveat that needs to be made: this production is best watched 
                  without subtitles, so that you can follow the general drift 
                  of the plot without noticing that the words being sung are occasionally 
                  at odds with what we are watching. Arturo Colautti’s tightly 
                  constructed libretto (after Victorien Sardou) makes, after all, 
                  specific and repeated reference to Loris’s youth. Fedora 
                  often calls him a boy and her paramour’s own mawkishly 
                  juvenile, not to say positively Oedipal, invocations of his 
                  dear mother similarly suggest someone who is scarcely past puberty 
                  in his emotional development. With Freni a pretty well-preserved 
                  58 and Domingo only six or so years younger, I found the absence 
                  of a clearly visible age gap really jarring - though it is worth 
                  noting that my colleague Robert J. Farr, reviewing an earlier 
                  DVD incarnation of this production, thought Domingo to be “vocally 
                  and visually[my emphasis]ideal” (see 
                  here). In fairness, too, let me add that watched on its 
                  own terms - and with, as I recommend, those subtitles switched 
                  off - the story works just as well as a drama involving two 
                  middle aged protagonists. 
                    
                  This production was clearly cast from strength, and all the 
                  supporting roles are well filled by singers who know what they 
                  are about. The very experienced Gianandrea Gavazzeni applies 
                  all his vast experience to the score with which both he and 
                  his players are in evident sympathy. Sets and costumes are evocative 
                  and effective and the direction for TV and video is unobtrusively 
                  efficient. There is a booklet essay by Werner Pfister which, 
                  given Fedora’s comparatively low profile - it fails 
                  to earn any entry at all in the 700-odd pages of Stanley Sadie’s 
                  The New Grove Book of Operas - will be useful to many 
                  who come to it for the first time.   
                  
                  Rob Maynard