Giovanna
D’Arco is Verdi’s seventh opera. It was premiered
a mere four months after I
Due Foscari and six months before Alzira. These
were the years that Verdi was later to call his ‘period
in the galleys’. Not only was he composing but also presenting
revivals in various theatres throughout Italy. Whilst his
first four operas had been premiered at La Scala, his fifth
was first seen in Venice and his sixth in Rome. Both had
been successful, helped by the librettos produced by Piave
who worked hand in glove with the composer who had an instinctive
theatrical sense. Although he always felt himself indebted
to Merelli, the La Scala impresario who had given him his
first opportunities and stuck with him through the dark
days of the failure of Un Giorno Di Regno, Verdi
had been reluctant to go back to La Scala with a new work.
Merelli was a very warm-hearted and generous man, but a
pretty lousy impresario. Far too often singers dictated
what went on. This even involved the insertion of arias,
other than by the composer of the work on stage, in order
to show off their strengths or to give greater weight to
a part that they considered not commensurate with their
status. Although little is known of the genesis of Giovanna
D’Arco it seems that Verdi, perhaps under pressure
from Merelli and his publisher Ricordi, agreed to compose
another opera for La Scala in 1845 to make up for the loss
of his services the previous year. This was despite the
fact that the impresario would have the choice of singers,
subject and librettist, as was the standard practice at
La Scala.
The
librettist chosen was Temistocle Solera who had produced
the book for both Nabucco and I Lombardi. Solera,
aware of copyright problems in France, was keen to state
that his libretto had no connection with Schiller’s play,
although the evidence of the libretto contradicts that. Verdi
knew the play, but may have been reluctant to work on the
subject as several others had done so already. During the
composition, Verdi contracted to mount a revival of I
Lombardi for the opening of the carnival season; problems
began to gather. The orchestra was too small, the scenery
and costumes were inadequate whilst the singers were inclined
to take too many liberties. These were the singers scheduled
to present Giovanna D’Arco. Despite a poor public
response to the tenor, Giovanna D’Arco was well received
and soon the street barrel organs were ringing to the prologue
tune of Tu sei bella, the demons’ chorus that haunts
Joan (Ch.5. part). As well as the stage and singer problems,
Verdi’s relationship with Merelli became strained when the
latter negotiated the sale of the full score without the
composer’s knowledge. It was the end of a friendship. Verdi
vowed never to set foot in the theatre or speak to Merelli
again. A man who carried grudges, Verdi carried out his threat
until the revised Simon Boccanegra was premiered at
La Scala in 1881. The hatchet buried, La Scala premiered
the four-act 1884 version of Don Carlo and Verdi’s
two final operatic masterpieces, Otello and Falstaff.
Giovanna
D’Arco is scored for three
primo singers, soprano, tenor and baritone. It requires
true Verdian voices, ones with the subtle combination of
legato, the ability for a wide range of vocal expression
and also the heft to convey the emotions of the roles being
portrayed. None of the three principal characters, Joan
herself, Carlo the King or her father Giacomo, are sketched,
musically, in any great depth or complexity. The trio of
soloists have to work really hard to make the roles anything
other than ciphers. This may well account for the paucity
of both staged and recorded performances. The only studio
recording is that from EMI in 1972 with James Levine conducting
and the trio of Montserrat Caballé, Placido Domingo and
Sherrill Milnes. Levine’s conducting, particularly of the
overture and chorus scenes, is too often harsh and metronomic.
In
this performance the lilt, rhythmic
pulse and elegant phrasing counterbalance the drive in the
distinct parts of the long overture and make it immediately
obvious that Riccardo Chailly is a more sympathetic Verdian than Levine (Ch.1).
He is always supportive of his soloists without letting the
dramatic impetus flag. As well as a conductor of this ideal
nature, Giovanna D’Arco requires
a staging to bring it alive and singers who can act. In this
production the series of scenes are well conveyed by realistic
sets, backdrops and strongly creative and evocative lighting.
The costumes are of the appropriate epoch although there
are one or two incongruities such as Joan is always seen
in either white flowing robes or a similarly all enveloping
sackcloth. The only sign of her and any armour, as befits
the heroine of the story, is as she takes a sword at the
rock, after the chorus of demons, and declares to Carlo and
her father that she is the warrior maid who will lead them
to glory (Ch. 6). This may have been expediency as much
as any other decision as Susan Dunn is, to say the least, a big girl who would have looked
somewhat ridiculous in armour. She sings with full variety
of tone and colour, excellent legato and a wide range of
vocal expression. Regrettably her acted portrayal is not
of this calibre. Far too often she depends on hand movement
and stock operatic gestures although she does manage a little
more animus in her aria Qui! Qui ..dove pui s’apre and
in the duet with Carlo as she hears the voices that he cannot
(Chs 9-10). As Carlo Vincenzo La Scola is an even more wooden
actor, whilst his singing has neither the variety of colour
nor the vocal characterisation of his soprano partner. The
video directors do what they can with the situation with
predominantly mid-range shots rather than close-ups of bland
faces. Just what is missing histrionically becomes particularly
noticeable when the Giacomo of Renato Bruson is on the stage.
He is a considerable singing actor who makes what can be
got out of a role that Verdi fails to paint in with his usual
deft hand, although the father-daughter duet is appropriately
and characteristically tender (Ch. 15). The chorus, whether
as soldiers or demons, sing strongly although why they had
to have their heads partly hooded defeated me?
As
I have already stated, staged or even concert performances
of Giovanna D’Arco are rare to come by. I have never
managed one in fifty years of opera-going and know of no
staged performance in Britain in that time or further back.
Despite my reservations as to the acting of two of the principals,
this well staged and conducted performance has given me significantly
greater insight into Giovanna D’Arco as well as more
musical enjoyment than the earlier audio recording. I have
no doubt it will do the same for others and I strongly recommend
it on that basis.
Robert J Farr
Carlo VII.
King of Spain, Vincenzo La Scola (ten); Giacomo, a shepherd
in Dom-Rémy, Renato Bruson (bar); Giovanna D’Arco,
his daughter, Susan Dunn (sop); Delil, an officer of the
King, Pierre Lefebvre (ten); Talbot, commander of the English
army, Francesco Lodetti (bass) 
[126:00] 
