This set packagers three previously released DVDs from La Scala
which seem to have been collected together for no apparent reason
except that they all feature Muti. No complaints from me, though,
as they are all very good indeed and together they make a very
attractive item.
Don Pasquale is the gem of the set, magnificent to look
at and to listen to. Like the others, the production is safely
traditional, but with some lovely touches. The costumes are
well realised and the scene changes are managed with outstanding
skill, down to the scene in the kitchen with the hilarious servants
poring over their steaming pots, strings of sausages dangling
from the ceiling. The singing is really outstanding, each artist
inhabiting their role and drawing good acting as well as great
singing. Feruccio Furlanetto dazzles in the title role. In
this country we are more used to him in serious roles like Verdi’s
Fiesco or Philip II and it is easy to forget that he cut his
teeth as a buffo baritone. Seeing him here marks him out as
one of the true greats in this repertoire. He is comical in
expression and quite marvellous in the quick-fire patter numbers,
but there is an overarching authority and even sympathy to his
role so that this Pasquale is not a ridiculous, bumbling oaf
but a three-dimensional character with feelings. Norina’s slap
in the first scene of Act 2 is a real turning point, after which
he seems truly humbled. Focile herself is a close-to-perfect
Norina. Her bright, clear soprano is ideally suited to the
register and she masters the coquettish style that makes her
so winning in her first aria. She isn’t averse to portraying
Norina’s cruel side either, particularly as she takes over the
household in Act 2. Lucio Gallo is a roguish, appealing Malatesta
with an exciting, virile baritone that oozes tongue-in-cheek
humour in a very winning way. Likewise, Gregory Kunde is a
revelation as Ernesto: his warm, honeyed tone marks him out
as one of the most mellifluous of bel canto tenors, providing
a uniquely distinctive contribution to the ensemble passages.
He turns on the pathos for his lament at the start of Act 2,
but is all sensuous abandon in Act 3. In fact, the garden scene
is the highlight of the performance: Com’é gentil is
beautifully smooth, drifting in from a well-placed acoustic,
and the two lovers’ voices blend delightfully in Tornami
a dir. The ensembles crackle along delightfully and Muti’s
control of the orchestra is flexible and warm rather than dictatorial.
This Manon Lescaut is - I presume
- the same performance released on CD by Deutsche Grammophon.
It was not well received when it was released, but I found this
performance very enjoyable and it scores above the CD on several
accounts. For one thing the CD was criticised for its poor
balance which favours the singers while drowning out the orchestra,
but that is broadly solved with DTS sound. Furthermore Liliana
Cavani’s production is a delight to look at, solidly traditional
with sumptuous sets and period costumes. Geronte’s house in
Act 2 is a feast of Baroque furniture and fashion, while Act
3 is presided over by an enormous hulk of a prison ship. This
lack of “interpretation” is quite refreshing, and I really enjoyed
the performances too. True, Maria Guleghina’s massive voice
is rather short on vulnerability, and during Act 1 it sounds
as if the part is being sung by a trainee Isolde, but she rises
to the drama of the great duet in Act 2, and I found her very
moving in the death scene. Similarly, Cura will get few marks
for subtlety, but he scores high on romantic ardour. His dark
tenor is quite well suited to the part of Des Grieux, particularly
during his reproaches in Act 2, and his performance in the Act
3 roll call scene is storming. Lucio Gallo, always excellent,
is a beautiful sounding but roguish Lescaut who you clearly
wouldn’t trust an inch, and Luigi Roni’s Geronte is quietly
malicious. The smaller roles, especially the cameos of Act
2, are all taken very well. The orchestral playing is top notch
too and Muti seldom takes his foot off the pedal: the climaxes
in Act 4 sound positively nuclear! This may not stand up to
some of the great performances on CD, but don’t dismiss it out
of hand as there is plenty on the DVD to enjoy and a great deal
that is very valuable indeed.
The performance of Carmelites is
significant and very strong without quite being great. The
opera was premiered at La Scala in 1957 in Italian and Robert
Carsen’s 2004 production is clearly set in the revolutionary
period while also managing to hint at abstraction. Costumes
are traditional and there is no scenery whatever: instead each
setting is suggested with a few subtly placed items of furniture,
though the sparseness definitely lends raw muscle to the most
powerful scenes, such as the death of the old Prioress - on
a camp bed surrounded by a circle of prostrate sisters. It also
applies to the final execution with nuns dressed in white, dancing
symbolically, cut down one by one by the invisible blade. There
are some very striking images too, such as the line of black-veiled
nuns that divides the stage in two for Blanche’s Act 2 meeting
with her brother, so visually there are no complaints and plenty
of things to praise. On the whole the ensemble of singers is
very good indeed. The nuns blend beautifully, and in the corps
there is no stand-out, which is quite appropriate given the
context. Mother Marie and Madame Lidoine radiate authority
in quite different ways, but the standout performance is Laura
Aikin’s Sister Constance who sings with rapt, visionary passion
and simple beauty. She has great acting to match. Great acting
is also the chief virtue of Anja Silja’s performance as the
Old Prioress. She commands the stage with an adamantine presence
from the moment she walks on stage until the final throes of
her agonising death scene. In 2004 the voice still had some
heft - something sadly missing from her recent turn as the witch
in Covent Garden’s Hansel and Gretel - and a good deal
of secure vocal tone. That said, she was in her decline,
as evidenced by some slightly shaky top notes and an unpleasant
shrillness that runs throughout her register. Dagmar Schellenberger’s
Blanche is, alas, also rather shrill. She has the measure of
the character’s insecurity and, often, blind panic, but she
cannot quite connect with her serenity and the beauty of much
of the writing. Her appearance in the final scene was fine,
but there was none of the exaltation that this moment should
surely induce. Muti conducts like he is trying to set off a
bomb under the score: the climaxes are thrustful and exciting
while some of the more mellow moments sound distinctly un-French.
Still, I enjoyed this disc a lot and it’s definitely one to
set alongside Nagano’s fantastic CD recording from Lyon.
So some good performances in good surround
sound at a very attractive price. A good choice if you want
any of these operas, and it’s cheaper than purchasing them all
separately.
Simon Thompson
Marquis de la Force (baritone) – Christopher Robinson
