Lucrezia Borgia (1833)
Gaetano Donizetti
Caramoor Opera (Bel Canto
at Caramoor)
July 12, 2014
The Italian Pavilion at Caramoor Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco |
Lei: After being blown away by Roberto Devereux
at Carnegie Hall last month, it was a pleasure to discover yet another rarely
performed Donizetti gem at the Caramoor Bel Canto festival. We got to Katonah
in the early afternoon so we had time to enjoy the gorgeous Italian-style
gardens dotted with modern sound installations, attend intriguing panel
discussions that fleshed out topics such as Victor Hugo in opera and Donizetti’s
influence on Verdi, listen to a pleasant bel canto recital by the Caramoor
young artists program and leisurely picnic in a bucolic setting feeling very
much like Manet’s Dejeuner sur l’herbe. By the time we got to the
evening performance we were already bewitched by Caramoor’s charms, and their Lucrezia
Borgia conducted by a high energy Will Crutchfield only made things
better.
Lui: The opera’s plot is a tight succession of juicy
dramatic tableaux that revolve around the anti-heroine Lucrezia Borgia: a
fierce and reckless ruler with a penchant for disposing of her enemies with
poisoned wine. Hated by many but possessively adored by Alfonso D’Este, her
current jealous husband, Lucrezia kindles a motherly affection for her
illegitimate son, Gennaro, who, of course, loathes the Borgias. Little does he
know that he too is descended of that line. As in other Donizetti operas, the
tension between the leading lady’s public role (as bloody ruler) and her
private sentiments (as tender mother) creates explosive drama.
Mother and son in full cry |
Lei: The duets between Lucrezia and her son Gennaro
are often heart wrenching, particularly in the Prologue, when he confides in
her his desire to be reunited with the mother he has never known (“Io non la
vidi mai”). In Act I, when Gennaro is in trouble for having vandalized the “Borgia”
sign (by removing the “B” and leaving “Orgia”), he prays to his unknown mother,
who is simultaneously being coerced into poisoning him, only to immediately
remedy that by administering an antidote. These mother-son
exchanges culminate in the final scene, when Lucrezia reveals his identity to
him (“Un Borgia sei”) and begs him not to commit matricide (“Ti
risparmio un fallo orrendo, il tuo sangue non versar”). As in Verdi’s Rigoletto,
likewise based on a play by Hugo (and conveniently paired Lucrezia Borgia in this year’s Caramoor program),
Lucrezia’s vendetta backfires in a highly tragic finale where she ends up
killing her own son, having poisoned him (again!) but with no time to save him.
Bosom buddies: Gennaro and Orsini |
Lui: Who knows why this action packed and fiery
pseudo-historical drama isn’t performed more often. In 1904 when the
Metropolitan Opera last gave it a day at court, with no less than Enrico Caruso
in the role of Gennaro, a reviewer for the New York Times brusquely wrote it
off. Some say its because it lacks a central love interest. After the title
character, Maffio Orsini occupies the center of the opera. Orsini is a dynamic
trouser role composed to be sung by a mezzo-soprano. His/her arias were among the highlights
of the night, starting with “Nella fatal di Rimini,” the first aria of
the opera. The Orsini character occupies the same narrative and emotional space
that the Duke occupies in Rigoletto. In his respect, rather than a love
interest, this particular Hugo play (and Donzietti’s treatment of it)
emphasizes the theme of male camaraderie. The strength of the bond
between the two is particularly evident early in Act II, when Gennaro is about
to leave (and thus escape death) but Orsini, deeply offended by his friend’s
parting, convinces him to stay because their destinies are tied together. Their
duet at the end of this specific scene is emotionally charged with joyful love,
as is the libretto:
ORSINI
E GENNARO
Sia qual vuolsi il tuo destino,
Esso è mio: lo giuro ancora.
Sia qual vuolsi il tuo destino,
Esso è mio: lo giuro ancora.
ORSINI
Mio Gennaro!
Mio Gennaro!
GENNARO
Caro Orsino!
Caro Orsino!
ORSINI
E GENNARO
Teco sempre ... o viva, o mora.
Qual due fiori a un solo stelo,
Qual due fronde a un ramo sol,
Teco sempre ... o viva, o mora.
Qual due fiori a un solo stelo,
Qual due fronde a un ramo sol,
ORSINI
Noi vedremo sereno il cielo.
Noi vedremo sereno il cielo.
GENNARO
O saremo curvati al suol.*
O saremo curvati al suol.*
Likening their
affectionate bond to two flowers on one stem and two leaves on one branch,
Orsini and Gennaro embody the classical ideal of friendship as the sharing of
one soul in bodies twain. It is a moving moment in the score and occupies the space
that would otherwise be reserved for a romantic subplot. Perhaps good,
old-fashioned friendship does not appeal to audiences in quite the same way as
a steamy love story. There is real feeling between Orsini and Gennaro, just as
there seems to be between Gilda and the Duke in Verdi’s masterpiece.
Lei: Rigoletto’s
musical similarities with Lucrezia Borgia are astonishing, so much that
I thought at many points: “This sounds so Verdian,” while of course I should
have rather said that Verdi sounds “Donizettian.” The first time I heard
Orsini’s drinking song, for example, I immediately thought about the opening
party scene in Rigoletto, and that is just one of many passages that resonated
with an anxiety of influence. The plots of the two operas also have a lot of common
themes, which should not come as a surprise since both operas are based on Victor
Hugo plays (Lucrèce Borgia and Le roi s’amuse). The infausto
vaticinio by a cavaliere who prophesies
that Orsini and Gennaro will die together and that they should beware the
Borgias is not so different from Monterone’s maledizione. The tender
duets between Lucrezia and her son Gennaro are poignantly reminiscent of those
between Rigoletto and his daughter Gilda. Donizetti’s leading lady is as
morally crooked as Rigoletto is physically deformed. The lurking spy Gubetta
finds his echo in the shady assassin Sparafucile. And the list could go on.
Husband and wife go head to head |
Lei: It was a semi-staged show with the orchestra on
stage and the singers in the foreground in eveningwear and doing only a bit of
acting. All performers were so stellar that I did not miss costumes and scenes
but, rather, could focus entirely on the music and the drama, also thanks to
the excellent acoustics of the Venetian theater. All singers had excellent
Italian diction so I was not even distracted by the supertitles.
Christophoros Stamboglis sings Alfonso d'Este |
Lui: One of the musical highlights of the night was
the epic confrontation in Act II, in which soprano Angela Meade’s
Lucrezia Borgia and bass Christophoros Stamboglis’s Duke of Ferrara go
head to head over whether or not to poison Gennaro. In their ferocious singing
they really brought the power struggle between headstrong husband and wife
savagely to life. It was without a doubt one of the most vivid musical moments
of the evening. Even though it was only a semi-staged show, both singers
really let themselves get carried away with the emotions of the scene and
together they achieved the kind of intensity of heightened emotion that only
truly talented interpreters/singers of great opera can achieve. When Lucrezia
reminds her husband that he better be careful since she’s a Borgia with a track
record of getting rid of her spouses, Meade was all fangs and barbed threats.
Her musical rage was scaring, in a crescendo of regal fury that literally made
the air vibrate and the public gasp.
Angela Meade as Lucrezia Borgia |
Lei: Angela Meade’s Lucrezia was on fire. Her voice
has sheer power and agility, commanding bel canto fireworks but also delivering
extraordinarily tender moments. Her range and expressivity were impressive. In
her opening aria, while she laments that everybody hates her (“m’aborre
ognuno”) and lovingly contemplates her sleeping son, Meade was profoundly
lyrical and moving. This soprano is getting better every time I see her and I
cannot wait to see her again. Her schedule will bring her back to New York for Guglielmo
Tell (Carnegie Hall, December), Verdi’s Requiem (NY Philharmonic,
January) and Ernani (Met, March/April).
Tamara Mumford |
Michele Angelini |
Mezzo-soprano TamaraMumford as Orsini was a revelation. She was high energy and embodied the
male role with sass, wearing tight black pants, stilettos and a sexy white
tuxedo jacket. The intensity of her acting matched her singing while she
perfectly delivered the many layers of the Orsini role: from his chilling
opening monologue that so succinctly sets the tone for the evil streak that
runs through everything Borgia (“dov’è Lucrezia è morte”), to tender
friendship moments with Gennaro, to the joyful drinking songs that open and
close the opera. While reading Mumford’s biography I realized that we
actually saw her before at the Met (singing smaller roles like Smeaton in Anna Bolena and Margaret in Wozzeck), Orsini is definitely a beefier
part, that put this mezzo-soprano front and center and really allowed us to
appreciate her.
Tenor Michele Angelini brought
freshness to his portrayal of Gennaro. Although he was a bit dwarfed by the
ladies’ firepower at the beginning, he warmed up after the first act and grew
stronger throughout the opera. As an actor he embodied the right blend of
arrogance and naiveté. Despite being an orphan who is a bit lost in the world,
he is also at the same time independent minded and relatively sure of himself.
Angelini brought out several of this character’s many layers.
Joseph Charles Beutel |
Hans Tashjian |
Zachary Altman |
There was really not a
weak link to be found, right down to the minor characters. Bass-baritone JosephCharles Beutel had great stage presence and a deep, well-rounded tone as
Lucrezia’s spy Gubetta. His singing particularly raged in the fiery
confrontation with Orsini in Act II. Baritone Zachary Altman had
probably five minutes tops on stage as Astolfo (another villain at La Borgia’s
service), and in so little time he was bewitching, extremely charismatic, with
very clear diction and deep, expressive singing, that kept me on the edge of my
seat – definitely a singer to look out for. Another artist that had limited but
excellent stage presence was bass Hans Tashjian (as Don Apostolo
Gazella, one of the anti-Borgia fellas), whom we discovered last year in dell’Arte
Opera Ensemble’s L’incoronazione di Poppea and will look forward to
seeing again in that same company’s Macbeth later this summer.
– Lei & Lui
The Sunken Garden at Caramoor Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco |
* O thy fortune, whatever it may be, / Shall be
mine, again I swear it, / Life or death, together we share it. / My Gennaro /
Dear Orsini / Twin-born flowers, in union growing, / Twin-born leaflets upon a
branch, / We show one smile, if summer be glowing, / ‘Neath the tempest we
equally blanch.
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