Wexford Festival: Le convenienze ed inconvenienzi teatrali

National Opera House (O’Reilly Theatre), Wexford 25/10/2024

 Orchestra and Chorus of Wexford Opera, Danila Grassi conductor, Sharleen Joynt soprano, Paolo Bordogna bass-baritone, Giuseppe Toia baritone, Matteo Loi baritone, Paola Leoci soprano, Alberto Robert tenor, William Kyle baritone, Hannah Bennett mezzo soprano, Philip Kalmanovitch baritone, Henry Grant Kerswell bass.

 For this reviewer, the 25th October was a day of Donizetti at the Wexford Festival.  In the late afternoon, I had enjoyed a community opera production of The Elixir of Love.  The evening promised a large scale production of an opera hitherto unknown to me: ‘Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali’ (The Conventions and Inconveniences of Theatre).  I had read that it was a biting satire of the bad habits of 19th century Italian theatrical practice and was expecting a comedy.  In truth, though, I had no idea that I was about to experience not merely quite the funniest opera I have ever seen, but a viable candidate for the funniest thing I have ever seen.  It was up there with the 1992 film of Michael Frayn’s play of a decade earlier, ‘Noises off’, at which I laughed so hard it hurt.

The “conventions” is a reference to the ranking of principals into (using the feminine form for donne) prima, seconda and comprimaria (first, second and co-star), together with all the expectations of the relative numbers of arias, opportunities for virtuosa display, prominence of billing etc. that this engenders.  The “inconveniences” refers to the petty jealousies and atrocious behaviour that had become commonplace, with the resulting headache for impresarios and composers, not to mention stage and music directors.  The scope for farce is undeniable.  In this opera, the headache becomes a self-destructive nightmare, from which the only escape is annihilation.  Analogous to the spectacle of Basil Fawlty in meltdown, or the descent into insanity of the Scriptwriter in Mario Vargas Llosa’s 1977 novel, the comic fascination of abject collapse robs the helpless voyeurs, paralysed by laughter, of the capacity of empathy.  The setting, in keeping with the ‘Theatre Within Theatre’ theme of WFO2024, is backstage and rehearsals of a production of a (decidedly uninspired) opera seria, ‘Romolo ed Ersilia’, by a mediocre provincial company (Lodi in Lombardy is mentioned: until now this meant a favourite wine to this reviewer; henceforth its mention will raise a different smile, if not a snort).

Originally a one-act farce, the opera grew gradually with dialogue, then recitative and ultimately random inclusions from other operas of ‘star turns’ for the principals being inserted, so there is an absence of a definitive edition.  Initial plaudits must go to the director, Orpha Phelan, for crafting such an excellent production from the Critical Edition, with research which included going directly to its author Roger Parker for advice.  Armed with his blessing to be creative and with a few special tweaks, she has fashioned an absolute masterpiece.

We get to meet the main characters in the first rehearsal.  The Prima Donna, Daria (Chinese-Canadian coloratura soprano Sharleen Joynt) is a cut above the rest of the principals and knows it, refusing to rehearse with them after demonstrating a tour-de-force aria from the production, which she has already memorised (and indeed it was truly phenomenal).  Later, as one of the non-sequitur ‘star-turn’ insertions in Act 2, Sharleen sang ‘Glitter and be gay’, Cunegonde’s aria from Bernstein’s ‘Candide’, and it was equally magnificent (if unexpected).  Her husband Procolo (Sicilian baritone Giuseppe Toia) starts as her one-man claque, defending her prominence against the efforts of the rest of the cast but, when the tenor deserts the production in disgust, offers to step in – to say the least, it does not go well.  Seconda Donna Luigia (Italian soprano Paola Leoci) is unhappy with her part and timidly begs the composer (Sardinian baritone Matteo Loi) for an aria to help her career.  He brushes her off with ease but has not reckoned on her formidable mother, Donna Agata (Italian bass-baritone Paolo Bordogna in a travesti role).  Determined that the production will launch her daughter’s career, she leaves him in no doubt what is expected and what the consequences of non-compliance will be.  This leads to a spectacular cat-fight with the Prima Donna and an uneasy truce.  As the production begins to fall apart with desertions, Agata offers to take on the trouser role vacated by Pippetto (English mezzo Hannah Bennett), even though she can’t read music, with (perhaps unsurprisingly but particularly) hilarious results.  As the decay of the production progresses, Agata refuses to let go of her daughter’s hoped-for career-launcher and takes on additional responsibilities, including lighting (full marks to lighting designer Daniele Naldi for simulating the inevitable chaos) and choreography (huge plaudits to Amy Share-Kissiov for superb quality of the dance throughout the production).  The scene where Agata instructs and rehearses the ballet dancers had me in stitches (and pausing even now as I recall it, unable to type as I tremble with mirth).  In an evening of top-flight performances, Paolo Bordogna’s shone unforgettably with excellence in comic timing, drag portrayal and vocal agility.  In the original production, the humour of the role of the German tenor Guglielmo (Mexican tenor Alberto Robert) was based on the parody of German pronunciation of Italian (no longer acceptable to modern sensibilities).  Ingeniously, Orpha has tweaked this to him finding himself in the wrong production.  He arrives with guitar, bewildered at the absence of nuns, children and Nazis.  He rehearses an aria, shoehorning the lyrics of ‘Edelweiss’ into Donizetti’s melody.  He comes to blows with Agata, which resolves him to give up and leave, becoming one of the lucky ones that got away.  The Impresario (Canadian baritone Philip Kalmanovitch), already under pressure at the precarity of the production’s finances, is progressively driven to despair at the loss of a tenor, and drink as the rot sets in, finally resorting to desperate measures when the director (British bass Henry Grant Kerswell) cancels the show).  Specifically, even as whole company plans to scarper to escape financial liability, the curtain falls as the whole production is about to go up in smoke.  Literally.

In Act 2, we get a glimpse of dreadfulness of the opera they are rehearsing, when the chorus, all preposterously decked out as Roman senators in white togas (with gold laurel-leaf tiaras) perform a Triumphal March number, with principals in Roman military garb and a malfunctioning set in which two halves of the colonnade of a Roman temple drift back and forth and fail to align.  Tribute must be paid to Madeleine Boyd’s design: its contribution to the amplification of the hilarity was immeasurable, and Agata’s costumes contributed much to Paolo’s unforgettable portrayal.  Holding the music all together in performance was conductor Danila Grassi.  Excellence in the portrayal of mediocrity cannot be easy, but this production aced it.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, ‘Convenienze …’ has been the highlight of my attendance at this year’s Festival.  Absolutely superb.

 Photo: Patricio Cassinoni