In December 2006
the Italian magazine Classic Voice reached issue 200;
the issue carried a specially prepared 2 CD set under the title
Il nuovo Vivaldi, an anthology of highlights from the
ongoing Naive Vivaldi Edition, which is based on the huge collection
of Vivaldi manuscripts preserved in the Biblioteca Nazionale
in Turin. The sub-heading of one of the magazine's essays on
this important project proclaimed Jean-Christophe Spinosi's
presentation of Vivaldi's music as 'energiche e
ipervitaminiche' - which puts it very well! The project merits such celebratory
attention and Spinosi's contribution certainly merits such adjectives.
Griselda was
a mature work, first performed at the Teatro S. Samuele in Venice
in 1735, a theatre from which Vivaldi's work had hitherto been
excluded, for reasons elaborated in Frederic Delamia's valuable
booklet notes. Some thirty-four years earlier Apostolo Zeno had
written a Griselda libretto, first performed in Teatro
S. Cassiano in Venice in 1701, in a setting by Antonio Pollarolo.
The subject was strikingly popular; Delamia tells us that between
1701 and 1735 there were more than thirty settings of the libretto.
Tomaso Albinoni (1703), Alessandro Scarlatti (1721) and Niccolo
Porpora (1726) were amongst the distinguished composers who wrote
Griselda operas. The popularity of the story doubtless
reflects the archetypal nature of its narrative (as considered in
Lois DE. Butler's The Tested Woman Plot, Ohio State
U.P., 2001) which concerns the grossly unkind treatment of
'patient' Griselda by her unreasonable husband, treatment which
she survives and over which she finally triumphs. With its roots
in folklore, the story came into the world of modern Italian
literature with a version in Boccacio's Decameron (c.1351), of which Petrarch
made an adaptation in Latin. Chaucer retold the story as The Clerk's
Tale in The Canterbury Tales. In all of these medieval
versions of the story, the husband's behaviour seems entirely
random, or simply sadistic. Chaucer's narrator is moved to explain
that his story isn't really about a husband and wife at all -
that these figures are essentially allegorical, and that his tale
is really 'about' how the human soul should accept the dealings
of Divine providence, confident in its final benevolence. Eighteenth-century
Venice demanded something closer to the realities of quotidian
social life, at least so far as motivation was concerned. In Zeno's
version the husband is a king, whose people object to his marriage
to a woman of humble birth; the king - Gualtiero - tests his wife,
through a series of savage challenges, so that the people will
see just how constant and patient she is. 'Patience' - as
represented, for example, in the late plays of Shakespeare - carried much more
weight than our modern use of the word does; it was a Christian
virtue of some force and importance. St. Paul advised Timothy
that "the Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome but kind
to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting
his opponents with gentleness." (2 Tim. 2:24-25). It was
with something of this force that the Italian composers of the
eighteenth century told the story of Griselda, without ignoring
the opportunities for pathos and for (albeit crude) characterisation
that the narrative offered.
The commissioning of
Vivaldi's Griselda was the occasion for a revision of
Zeno's libretto by no less a figure than Carlo Goldoni, less than
thirty but already making a reputation as a poet; Goldoni left
two entertaining accounts of his dealings with Vivaldi.
The resulting opera
is a work of considerable beauty and power. Vivaldi invests the
narrative with real psychological understanding and expressivity;
passion abounds, but the music doesn't forget the larger moral
dimensions of the story. There is a tragic awareness at work here,
most obviously in the music given to Griselda, here sung with
ravishing brilliance by the Canadian soprano Marie-Nicole Lemieux.
There are plenty of set-piece arias, but what is perhaps most
astonishing is the consistently high standard of the recitatives.
Vivaldi's poignant presentation of Griselda is a million miles
from mere sentimentality, the sense of personal suffering never
entirely denuded of something yet more universal, in the recurrent
sense that her sufferings say something about the universal human
condition, for all the near-absurdity of their extremity.
From the opening
bars of the Sinfonia one is aware of being in safe (though risks
are taken!) musical hands. The Ensemble Matheus plays with vigour
and precision throughout and many of the orchestral colours are
gloriously vivid - the effect helped by a crystal clear recorded
sound. The treatment of the recitatives is particularly impressive
and refreshing; rarely have I heard an opera recording in which
the recitatives are so gripping; narrative tension is never lost
as instrumental resources support a top quality line up of soloists.
Marie-Nicole Lemieux
interprets the title role with intense dramatic commitment and
utter vocal assurance. This was a role written for Anna Giro,
Vivaldi's protege - and perhaps his mistress - but Lemieux persuades
one that it might just as well have been written for her. She
has a voice of electrifying presence, capable of conveying both
a great inner calmness and a fierce passion. Lemieux's dark -
but not heavy - contralto is beautifully complemented by the two
sopranos. Simone Kermes sings with quite breathtaking virtuosity,
her high notes shining with a transcendent light, her control
of pitch and register in the savagely difficult aria 'Dopo un'orrida
procella' a minor miracle. The slow aria 'Vede orgogliosa l'onda',
in Act I, shows off her voice at its purest. The Argentinian soprano
Veronica Cangemi maintains the high standard set by her colleagues,
not least in the fiendishly difficult 'Agitata da due venti' in
Act II. Throughout she sings with great tonal beauty. Nor do the
men let the side down. Iestyn Davies strengthens his growing reputation
as an up-and-coming countertenor, intelligent in his handling
of text, vocally gorgeous in 'La rondinella amante' and dazzling
in the hunting aria 'Alle minacce di fiera belve', holding his
own against the forceful orchestration. I don't find Philippe
Jaroussky's voice quite so tonally attractive - though other do,
taste in countertenors seems particularly subjective! - but he
sings with passion, agility and strength. Stefano Ferrari has
a lightish tenor voice, particularly good at the top of its range,
and brings to the role of Gualtiero both a keen dramatic understanding
and singing of considerable technical skill. Just occasionally
I wondered whether Spinosi's tempi weren't going to prove too
demanding for him but he passes test after test - beginning with
the rhythmically demanding 'Se ria procella sorge dall'onde',
the opera's first aria. He brings vocal and dramatic subtlety
to the Act II aria 'Tu vorresti col tuo pianto'. I haven't heard
Ferrari previously - I look forward to further encounters.
The booklet notes,
texts and translations are of a high quality - my only complaint
is that the CD case collapsed at the very first time of opening!
All in all, this recording
puts as compelling a case for Vivaldi's operas as one could very
well imagine being made on CD. There is an abundance of sumptuous
singing, some outstanding instrumental writing, outstandingly
played; but there is also a real dramatic tension, so much so that
it makes one very eager to see - as well as to hear - a sympathetic
production of this marvellous piece.
Glyn Pursglove
