The theatre of San Cassiano in Venice was the world’s
first public opera house, and it was for this theatre that Cavalli wrote
L’Ormindo.
He makes implicit reference to the greatness of his host city in the Prologue,
sung by Harmony. The booklet notes make the argument that the aria
Che
città is a reference not to the story’s location of Anfa but to
Venice itself. If you’re curious then the booklet, which also contains
the full text and translation, will tell you more. Either way, you’ll
be pleased to hear that the musical performance is very good indeed.
The greatest virtue is, in fact, the orchestral tone, which is really delightful.
The textures of the opening are beautifully spare
,
the strings captured with sparseness and delicacy. Jérôme Correas has a seemingly
innate understanding of the period. He directs the music with an impeccable
sense of style and forward movement, flowing without ever sounding forced
or hard-driven. His ensemble follow him every step of the way, producing sounds
of such sweetness and delicacy that you take the instrumental flair for granted
before you know it.
The singers are great, too. Sandrine Piau is sensational in the Prologue,
fully inside the style with its florid coloratura and occasionally breathy
mannerisms, topped by tone of precise, sometimes cold beauty that I found
very compelling. As Ormindo himself, Martín Oro has a slightly unsteady first
aria, but he warms up quickly and his address to Erisbe's beauty sounds
very good. His duets with Erisbe in the final act are even better, a beguiling
example of Cavalli at his very best, and a sound of cool beauty to relish.
Howard Crook as Amida is delicate and sensitive, and his voice weaves in and
out of Oro's very beguilingly in their duets.
I admit I am no admirer of Dominique Visse, and I found his sound rather irritating
at times, without being able to decide whether this was the fault of the role
or the singer. His mannerisms and affectations were infuriating to me, but
others may enjoy him. As Sicle, Magali Léger puts her rich voice to good use
and sounds very distinctive. Her role in the opera is rather convoluted, but
her eventual reconciliation with Aminda is well done and musically satisfying.
Rather oddly, the part of the nurse, Erice, is taken by a man, the rather
peculiar-sounding tenor of Jean-François Lombard. The colour of his voice
is, however, pretty unique, almost a halfway house between male and female
not dissimilar to a counter-tenor singing at the very bottom of his range.
This has the effect of evoking the voice of an older female without being
one. I found it a little disconcerting, and perhaps a little wilful, but there's
also an argument that it's a stroke of genius, so you should approach
it with an open mind. Perhaps it's done to add an extra air of strangeness
to the scene in the cave where she/he plays a witch, and it does so rather
effectively, if sounding a little bizarre.
The love interest, Erisbe, is sung with great beauty by Stéphanie Révidat,
as is her companion Mirinda by Karine Deshayes. As a piece of musical beauty,
if rather inert drama, their first duet takes some beating, and Mirinda's
first aria makes a thankfully sprightly end to the first act. Erisbe, on the
other hand, does plenty of lamenting in this opera, and it is to Révidat's
credit that she carries this off with lots of beautiful tone while avoiding
tiresomeness. The elderly Hariadeno is well sung and characterised by Jacques
Bona, a fruity baritone that convinces of the King's age without ever
making him sound like a spent invalid. Benoît Arnould doesn't have
an awful lot to do as Osmano but he does it rather well.
Opera of this period has a structure and set of conventions that won’t
appeal to everyone, and it’s not the most thrilling ride you'll
get from an opera, but it's early opera at its beautiful best, and
this set does it proud.
Simon Thompson