Sooner or later every
aspiring Italian composer of worth wanted
to make his debut at the Paris Opéra.
The 1830s and 1840s were its golden
age under the management of Veron. The
musical pillars of the Paris establishment
were Auber, Meyerbeer and Halévy.
Together they developed opera to greater
complexity and to a scale that had not
been seen before.
Verdi’s first invitation
to Paris came in 1845, shortly after
the production of Giovanna d’Arco.
At the time Verdi was fully committed
in Italy. He held out for two years
before accepting a definite engagement.
Finally, with I Masnadieri behind
him, he signed a contract to provide
an opera for the autumn of 1847. Contending
that there was not enough time to write
a completely new opera, Verdi followed
the example of Rossini and Donizetti
in proposing to modify an old work,
grafting on to it a new plot, composing
new numbers where necessary and adding
a ballet. He considered the most suitable
of his previous eleven operas for this
treatment to be his fourth, I Lombardi,
which became Jérusalem.
The challenge of Paris and its musical
standards kept Verdi interested in The
Opéra, whilst Jérusalem
was sufficiently successful to keep
the theatre management interested in
the composer. Jérusalem was
to have been followed by a completely
new work. However, the dramatic upheavals
in France, leading to the Second Empire
in 1848, made that impossible and Verdi
did not return to Paris until 1852 when,
during the gestation of Il Trovatore,
he returned to negotiate a new contract.
The Opéra were desperate for
a new Grand Opera, a work of four or
five acts with full ballet. Fully aware
of his own value in the international
market, Verdi drove a hard bargain.
The full resources of the theatre were
to be put at his disposal and no other
new opera was to be performed at the
theatre that year. Further, Verdi would
choose all the cast himself and there
would be forty performances guaranteed.
Although there was a revival in Paris
in 1863, for which Verdi wrote several
new arias, his first ‘Grand Opera’ had
a chequered fate. It was not destined
to enter the charmed circle of Parisian
Grand Opera repertory alongside such
established successes as Meyerbeer’s
Les Huguenots or Halévy’s
La Juive. It was not heard in
France in its original language after
1865. With the first Paris performances
over, Verdi organised an Italian translation
only to discover that the subject was
not acceptable in Italian theatres.
In its first manifestations in Italy
the location of the action and title
were changed. Nonetheless the opera
made an auspicious start in Italy with
nine productions in different theatres
during the 1855-56 carnival season.
The ballet was eventually dropped in
Italian performances.
Until the recent issue
by Opera Rara of the original French
version of the work (review),
the only mainline audio recordings were
of the Italian version conducted by
James Levine (RCA 1974) and a live performance
from La Scala conducted by Muti (EMI
1989); this latter production is also
available on DVD (Opus Arte).
Whilst Verdi is renowned
for his operas examining the father-daughter
relationship, Les Vêpres Siciliennes
is one of the few in which the composer
focuses on that between father and son.
Different facets of this relationship
are to be found in his 6th
opera, I due Foscari (1844),
his 11th, I Masnadieri
(1847) and 15th Luisa
Miller (1847). Montforte is, however,
the very first of Verdi’s lonely figures
of authority who have to weigh their
love of wife, grand-daughter or son
alongside their duties to the state.
Successors are Simon Boccanegra (1857)
and King Philip in Verdi’s other Grand
Opera for Paris, Don Carlos (1864).
This Bologna staging
is costumed in the period of the original
St Bartholomew massacre in the 13th
century. The Sicilian aristocrats are
dressed in opulent finery from the opening
scene whilst those for the wedding of
Arrigo and Elèna in the last
act are particularly fine. The occupying
French soldiers in chain mail and ‘metal’
headgear look rather heavy and incongruous
in the opening scene when they are supposed
to be carousing and propositioning the
local women. A by-product of this armorial
dress is that the smaller stature of
Leo Nucci as the harsh dictator Governor
Montforte, who has had Elèna’s
brother executed, is at a distinct disadvantage
looking anything but imposing and authoritative.
In fact he looks insignificant among
his soldiers and beside the figure of
Arrigo sung by Veriano Luchetti. The
La Scala production on Opus Arte sets
the work at the time of its composition.
There the soldiers’ dress is altogether
more elegant and imposing as they sing
of their domination of the local population.
The tall and elegant Giorgio Zancanaro,
as the Governor, is enhanced by his
costume, whereas Nucci is diminished
by his. Nucci has a considerable discography
as a Verdi baritone but his wiry monochrome
brings no great distinction or vocal
authority to the role of Montforte.
His two duets with his son, the first
in act 1 when he demands a name from
the younger man (Ch. 6), and when in
act 3 he recognises Arrigo as his son
(Chs. 10-12) are not distinguished by
vocal colour or nuance. The same sad
lack of graceful phrasing, variation
of colour and respect for Verdian line,
is also found in Veriano Luchetti’s
portrayal of Arrigo. Their duets are
very much of the school of stentorian
can belto competition, the effect
of which is further aggravated by the
rather harsh stereo sound. Zancanaro
and Chris Merritt in the La Scala production,
despite the latter’s rather tight tenor,
make much more of these vital scenes
which give dramatic credence to the
whole work,.
As the implacable patriot
Procida, Bonaldo Giaiotti manages to
convey gravitas as he returns to his
homeland and yearns for its freedom
(Ch. 7) although his voice is a little
unsteady under pressure. The best singing
comes from the American Susan Dunn as
Elèna. This production marked
her European debut and was followed
by an acclaimed Aida at La Scala. Her
voice is even and beautiful across its
range. At the end of Arrigo! Ah,
parli (Ch. 18) the applause is prolonged
and she is forced to break role and
make acknowledgement. Italians are renowned
for their love of excellent vocalising
and in these post-Callas days seem readily
to forgive other failures such as lack
of vocal expression and acting ability.
Susan Dunn does not do acting! Her face
hardly changes from bland expression
and her body language as a support to
the evolving drama is completely lacking.
Cheryl Studer on the La Scala issue
sings equally beautifully but also acts
with her voice, face and body to give
a significantly more complete portrayal.
Despite being labelled ‘the new Tebaldi’
in some Italian quarters, Susan Dunn
had a very short stage career.
The sets at Bologna
are even more opulent than the costumes.
Mid-stage drop and draw curtains are
used to variously reveal an avenue of
palm trees, a shoreline, an area with
huge rocks as well as more intimate
spaces. The camera-work tends to be
mid-shot and I often felt the stage
was over-cluttered with sets. This caused
movement problems when groups of French
soldiers and Sicilians were on the stage
together. I have never seen the Bologna
stage but I suspect it is significantly
smaller than that at La Scala. The more
simplistic but evocative sets in the
latter’s production might have better
suited the Bologna stage.
If there were no rival
on DVD I would be particularly frustrated
about the shortcomings of the singing
and acting in this production of Verdi’s
rarely heard work. As it is the La Scala
production on Opus Arte is not only
better sung and acted it comes complete
with the Four Seasons ballet and is
fully complete - nearly forty minutes
more of Verdi’s creativity. It also
has a booklet with a full libretto although
without Chapter indications. All in
all it is far superior to this Bologna
offering.
Robert J Farr
Chorus and Orchestra of the Teatro Communale
di Bologna/Riccardo Chailly 
WARNER
MUSIC VISION DVD VIDEO 504678029-2 [171:00]
