Rossini’s Aureliano in Palmira
Bel Canto at Caramoor
July 16, 2016
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| Se tu m'ami, o Regina Photo credit: Gabe Palacio |
Lui: An annual appointment with Bel Canto at Caramoor
has quickly become a much-anticipated staple on our summer operatic calendar.
The offerings in the bower of bliss that is the Caramoor Center for Music and
the Arts in northern Westchester County have been consistently extraordinary.
This year was no exception. Our encounter with Aureliano in Palmira was
full of surprises and the thrill of discovery. As it turns out, this early
Rossini gem served as a testing ground for many of the musical ideas that the
composer would go on to recycle in dozens of other more immediately
recognizable operas over the next several years. The experience was something
akin to that of our recent brush with Giovanna d’Arco, in which the
young Verdi introduced musical ideas that he would later go on to develop in
his more memorable or canonical works.
Lei: Well, Rossini definitely practiced more straight
“cut and paste” compared to Verdi who seemed to be a bit more nuanced. The
overtures of Aureliano and Barbiere are identical. Same goes for Il
Turco in Italia and Otello. Apparently Rossini liked to “rescue the
best parts of his fiascos” or else just quote himself very often.
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| A portrait of the young Rossini |
Lui: Rossini was hardly twenty-two years old in 1813
when he began working on Aureliano in Palmira, which is based on a
rather insipid story that had already been set to music in 1789. It was his
twelfth dramatic work to date and his second commission for La Scala in Milan,
but more importantly it afforded him the opportunity to write for a castrato
for the first and only time. And not just any castrato, mind you. The unique
and innovative vocalist in question was Giovanni Battista Velluti, the last
great castrato in the history of opera.
Lei: Aureliano’s plot is indeed a bit
all over the place. Roughly can be summarized in a couple of love triangles
dramatized by Roman colonialism: Arsace (hot Persian prince) and Zenobia
(Palmyra’s warrior queen) are in love and fight against the invading Roman
army. Aureliano (powerful Roman emperor) is in love with Zenobia and tries to
convince both her and Arsace to end their relationship so he can get the queen.
Publia (sweet Roman girl) is in love with Arsace and tries to convince
Aureliano not to kill the Persian prince. In the midst of all that, sieges,
battles and imprisonments, escapes from imprisonments, parlays, death threats
and blackmailings are thrown in. At the end of the day, though, Aureliano is an
enlightened ruler and lets the loving couple live and rule together, as long as
they pledge their fidelity to the Roman Empire. And everybody is happy in a
very Clemenza-like fashion.
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| Stage setting from Act I of the original 1813 La Scala production |
Lui: But the music and singing are particularly
glorious. According to the story as it was very eloquently presented to us
during one of the pre-show talks by the brilliant scholar and conductor, Will
Crutchfield, Rossini’s encounter with Velluti, who was an extraordinary
singer and musician, proved to be a decisive one both in the development of the
composer’s later work and bel canto
in general. The role of the Persian prince, Arsace, was written for Velluti and
so it is fittingly adorned with many virtuosic embellishments. As legend has
it, the music Rossini had initially written for Velluti was so changed by the
vocalist’s idiosyncratic treatment of it in iteration after iteration during
rehearsals that Rossini no longer recognized the slightest trace of the
original skeleton he had composed. This is probably an exaggeration and an
overstatement. However, philological evidence seems to suggest that Rossini himself
incorporated some of Velluti’s idiosyncratic musical sensibility into his own
later reappropriations of the Aureliano material. Maestro Crutchfield
demonstrated that by having three mezzos sing the same melody (1) as originally
written by Rossini; (2) as embellished by Velluti and (3) as repurposed in
later Rossini works. Interestingly, melody #3 sounded extremely similar to #2.
And we learned that the trick is all in the copious use of appoggiatura
by castrati who used to basically free style and riff on a basic melodies by
adding this type of embellishments.
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| Giovanni Battista Velluti |
Lei: I always had a keen interest in the castrati
as operatic rock stars of their times. After hearing the amazing Will
Crutchfield demonstrate how castrati-typical embellishments truly propelled
the bel canto style I love so much, I
am even more of a fan. It was so mind blowing: Crutchfield played relatively
plain and unrecognizable tunes, then played them again adding appoggiaturas
and pouf! We had Casta Diva, Sempre libera and Una furtiva lagrima. We
learned how composers from Donizetti to Verdi to Chopin all followed in those
very same footsteps, adopting a similar distinctive use of appoggiatura
to develop romantic melodies. I could listen to Crutchfield for hours, he is
such a passionate, encyclopedic yet approachable bel canto master. And if nothing else, our encounter with this rare
early Rossini gem with a mediocre plot was fruitful for this reason. It was
like watching bel canto being born
before our very eyes. But this is the kind of discovery we have to expect from
our little jaunts up to the bucolic idylls of Katonah. Crutchfield is that
good.
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| Stage setting from Act II of the original 1813 La Scala production |
Lui: Here the castrato role of Arsace was sung by the
excellent mezzo-soprano Tamara Mumford. After having heard about all of
the musical and artistic vicissitudes surrounding Arsace and its genesis, I was
intrigued to hear what Mumford would do with it. She did justice to it and then
some. She is one of those singers who never just goes through the motions. She
was fierce and sexy in Arsace’s pants role, strutting around in military
fashion, lovingly protecting Zenobia and disdainfully rejecting Aureliano’s
proposals. Mumford is just such a pleasure to watch. While she didn’t seem to
take Velluti’s lead in introducing a decadent overabundance of embellishment to
her vocal lines, she embodied them with poise and grace and feeling. The very
first moment we meet her Arsace, she is delivering one of the opera’s most
famous duets, Se tu m’ami, o Regina and it was one of those
time-stopping moments. Mumford truly is an exciting singer, with intense
electricity in her voice and acting chops to match that, even in a semi-staged
production as this one.
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| Lovers reunited Photo credit: Gabe Palacio |
Soprano Georgia Jarman in the role of the intrepid
Syrian queen was right in sync with Mumford from this duet on. Many of the high
points of the night came from the vocal fireworks these two produced every time
they were in one another’s presence. In Se tu m’ami, they embodied love
and longing in brilliant flights of fancy that brought a tear to my eye and
sent a tingle down my spine. It was quite a first showing from both of these
singers. And they maintained that emotional pitch right up to their final
ecstatic love duet in which the two separated lovers are brought back together
through the clemency of the great Roman ruler Aureliano. Jarman also sounded
great by herself, her bright coloratura soprano was truly a pleasure to hear.
Andrew Owens brought his bel canto trained tenor to the role of Aureliano, whom he played
with a headstrong and haughty imperial air. He may not have the most exciting
tenor sound but his light, bright instrument had all the agility required of a
Rossinian tenor. He was more than competent, but not terribly exciting, though
to be fair that is not necessarily the nature of the character. It may be the
title role, but the emotional core of the opera lies in the thwarted love
between the lionhearted Arsace and the bold but lovely Zenobia. Owens is a
proud product of the Caramoor workshop and he seemed triumphantly at home on
the stage of the Venetian Theater.
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| Aureliano's imperial air Photo credit: Gabe Palacio |
Mezzo-soprano Chrystal E. Williams was heart
wrenching as Publia, admittedly a minor role. In her ultimate game-changing
plea to Aureliano for clemency, forgiveness and love, Williams poured out her
soul with plush and melodic tones. She pulled at both his and our heartstrings
in her confession of affection for the poor imprisoned Arsace. Yes, it was an
awkwardly structured story of a love triangle that featured a nod perhaps to
Mozart’s La clemenza di Tito, with its eleventh hour deus ex machina
reconciliatory climax. Nevertheless, Williams brought emotional depth to her
peripheral role in shaping the conclusion of the story. This is definitely a
singer to watch out for.
Baritone Ziaomeng Zhang in the role of Licinio
was also remarkable. His low sound was warm and smooth and surprisingly deep
and powerful for a singer of his size. He commanded the respect and attention
of the cast and the public. Caramoor Bel Canto Young Artist baritone Thomas
Lynch as the high priest of Palmyra delivered a chilling, thundering and
threatening opening of the opera with confidence and perfect diction.
Lei: Next year Bel Canto at Caramoor will
present Bellini’s Il Pirata and Rossini’s Stabat Mater. We will,
of course, run there with our picnic basket, ready as always to be enchanted
and blown away by Will Crutchfield and his team.
– Lui & Lei
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| Maestro Crutchfield at work Photo credit: Gabe Palacio |
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