Stream: Donizetti Operas
Hilary Mantel’s ‘The Mirror and the Light’, the last of her novels about Thomas Cromwell begins and ends with an execution. None of Donizetti’s Tudor operas manages that, but all three end with an execution. Even before the Horrible History era, we have been used since childhood to accept the gory details of summary justice in earlier periods of history. What art can show is the reality behind the brutal facts and the feelings of those who die by mischance or missteps, or, as they used to say in The West Wing, misspeaking. While Mantel, in her trilogy about the middle years of Henry VIII’s reign, builds up the minutiae of everyday life so that the reader feels truly there with the characters, Donizetti’s musical trilogy takes the broad view of three key relationships in the Tudor period, deliberately simplifying and altering the historical events to amplify the drama and the terror.
This week’s free Met streams provide a rare opportunity to see Anna Bolena, Maria Stuarda and Roberto Devereux over three nights. They were written in the early 1830s, with Anna Bolena being Donizetti’s break-through triumph after numerous less-successful works. These operas were revived in many opera houses from the mid-twentieth century when Maria Callas, Beverley Sills and Joan Sutherland all excelled in this repertoire. None of them, however, was performed at the Metropolitan Opera until nearly ten years ago. David McVicar’s productions in 2011, 2013 and 2016 which we saw this week were Met premieres, and in 2016, American soprano, Sondra Radvanovsky sang all three queens in one season.
These are traditional productions with lavish stage sets and elaborate costumes, which enhance the audience’s understanding and give the performers space to sing their difficult music. Inspiration for the costumes comes from Holbein’s and Hilliard’s portraits. Two gripes about the sets – in Maria Stuarda and Roberto Devereux there a stage within a stage, the former something like the open-air staging at the Globe, and the second the indoor galleries for the audience at court masque. Yes, I know – a post-modern comment on the artifice of theatre! But such sets are also supposed to reduce the acting space and help the audience focus on the action in a large auditorium. I am not convinced. The reduced stage seems too small for the big chorus, and, crucially, the singers can never sing at the front to the real stage but are always set back, up several steps from the orchestra pit. My second complaint is about the lighting. All three operas are often very dimly lit, atmospheric, perhaps, but I do want to see what’s happening!
Musically however, the operas were terrific. I intended to watch Maria Stuarda in full and dip into the others, but in the end I watched all three of them. Anna Bolena cuts the story of Anne’s “betrayal” of Henry to the bare essentials. Henry is unsure of her fidelity and sets up an encounter between her and her former fiancé Harry Percy, which he witnesses. Their arrests follow, as does that of her brother, George, and her lutenist, Mark Smeaton.
Three Russian singers with big voices and personalities dominate this performance. It’s belcanto for a large auditorium, but a wonderful sound. Anna Netrebko hadn’t sung belcanto before, but sings and acts beautifully. Her duets with Jane Seymour, and Henry are highlights of the first act. Ekaterina Guberova, as Jane, riven with guilt as Henry’s new lover is the perfect vocal foil to Netrebko. Ildar Abrazakov has a rich bass voice which is a delight to listen to. Tall and handsome, he looks very like the Henry in Holbein’s lost portrait from the 1530s – in truth one that flatteringly depicts Henry as he was ten years earlier. The last Act contains a “mad scene” when Netrebko exhibits her vocal and acting range as Anne moves from sentimental recollection of her courtship by Henry to anger and fear. With her hair unbound, she goes to the scaffold while music off celebrates Henry’s wedding to Jane. American Stephen Costello sings well as her former lover, Percy. Tamara Mumford, as Smeaton, is a mezzo with a good lower register and a strong stage presence. Her two short arias were excellent.
Maria Stuarda is the best known of these operas. I got to know it through the Mackerras recording for ‘Opera in English’, sung by Janet Baker and Rosalind Plowright. (One of the advantages of watching in lockdown is that I can join in the arias with the English words!) Joyce DiDonato plays the Scottish Queen in this 2013 Met performance. I saw her in the role at Covent Garden the following year – in a very different production. Unlike the realism of the Met sets and costumes, the Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier production in London was at best minimalist, at worst frankly ugly, and the production team were loudly booed at the opening night. Luckily, I saw the show from a seat in the Stalls Circle right at the edge of the stage, never more than a few feet from the singers. These seats, hardly ever available now, were great for watching the performers close-to, but were reasonably cheap because of their limited side-view of the stage. In this case it was a ‘win-win’ for that part of the audience.
DiDonato’s Elizabeth at Covent Garden was Carmen Giannatasio, a singer who had a hit early in her career with Elena in a concert performance of Rossini’s La Donna del Lago at the Festival (wearing a tartan dress, if I remember correctly!), and later sang Violetta for Scottish Opera. I liked her as Elizabeth and took some time to get accustomed to the Met’s Elza van den Heever in the role. She seems somewhat ungainly on stage, lacks a range of facial expression, and is hampered in the second scene by an ugly hunting costume – red jodhpurs covered with a red farthingale, open at the front. To be fair to Heever, McVicar’s direction in this opera concentrates on the singers’ stage movements. Both Mary and Elizabeth move more stiffly in the second Act, to indicate the passage of 10 years. Joyce DiDonato’s hands shake visibly throughout this Act, indicating her psychological state as well as her physical condition. So Heever may be following direction in adopting her manly stride!
The libretto is a simplified version of Schiller’s play. It omits, for example Elizabeth’s dithering about whether to execute Mary: here she knows her mind and issues the order clearly. But the heart of the opera, as in the play, is the (imaginary) meeting between the two. Set up by Leicester, once Elizabeth’s favourite, now a suitor to Mary, it is an attempt to engage Elizabeth’s pity - which goes disastrously wrong. Early in the scene, DiDonato sings movingly of her wish for freedom, but then panic sets in as, unprepared by Leicester, she sees that Elizabeth approaches. Both queens stand on their dignity, and Mary seals her fate by refusing to be dictated to by “Anne Boleyn’s bastard daughter.”
The open-air set works well here, with the hunting horns off-stage. (The Covent Garden much-maligned production included a good touch, as Elizabeth shows her disdain by proceeding with her picnic, then chucking the remnants of her chicken leg at Mary after her insult!) Leicester, played by Matthew Polanzani, is a secure exponent of bel canto, though never quite convincing in his acting. It is a thankless role, as he plots with one woman against another. Donizetti, for the most part, focuses on the romantic nature of the relationships rather than the political. For an opera with two heroines there are fewer solo arias that one might expect. The chorus here, as elsewhere in these operas, plays a major role, and much of the drama and musical appeal lies in the duets as much as in the solo arias. Dramatic recitative is used effectively, especially as a vehicle for the exchange of insults. Surprisingly, there is no duet between Elizabeth and Mary, and the Act ends with an exciting sextet and chorus.
The second Act devotes one scene to each of the Queens. Elizabeth looks older, in her even more elaborate gown (think of the recently restored Armada portrait of the same period), with white makeup and rouged cheeks Heever is at her best here, decisive about Mary’s execution, but increasingly realising her isolation – getting rid of Mary won’t restore Leicester. Poignantly, she moves with difficulty alone to the back of the stage, as the lights fade.
Mary, in her Hilliard inspired black and white gown, is care-worn and shaky. So good is DiDonato’s acting that I was almost convinced that she had taken ill on stage – till she bounded down the steps during her curtain call to pick up her bouquets. As ever her vocal range and command of details astonishes. Conductor Maurizio Benini was criticised in some reviews for his slow tempos, but these suit DiDonato’s approach to the lyrical passages, with her talent for embellishing the vocal line. There is a moving scene with Talbot, English bass Matthew Rose, who like Leicester has to combine inconsistencies in his characterisation from plotter to Mary’s confessor. This Act ends with a Funeral march for chorus, horns and drums. Mary’s ladies remove her court dress to reveal a red shift, as, according to tradition, she goes to her death as a Catholic martyr.
In 2016, McVicar directed the third Tudor opera, Roberto Devereux, and revived the other two productions as a vehicle for star soprano Sondra Radvanovsky. Towards the end of Elizabeth’s reign, she believes she has been betrayed by her favourite, Robert Devereux the Earl of Essex, and orders his execution. I’ll say less about this opera because I was underwhelmed by Radvanovsky. I have never seen her live, though I gather she was in good voice in London recently. She too seems to have been directed by McVicar to indicate her age and infirmity by shaking. Did this affect her voice? – though if it had, surely that would have been picked up in rehearsal. To my ear it had an unacceptable vibrato and was harsh even in lyrical passages. Some criticism at the time supported this view. George Loomis in Opera magazine believed “the abrasiveness of her voice at full volume constrained its ability to give pleasure. The music presupposes a beauty of tone that is not there.” Loomis also commented, however, that “her identification with the drama is complete”, and I agree with him that Radvanovsky’s best moment came in the last scene when, minus her wig, her elaborate gown – and oddly her shakiness, she despairingly sinks to the floor, deploring her inability to stop Essex’s execution, and, anticipating her own death, names James as her successor.
The supporting cast is uniformly excellent with Matthew Polanzani as Devereux, Elina Garanca as his lover, Sarah, and Mariusz Kweicin as her husband, Nottingham. The duet between Polanzani and Garanca was a highlight of the performance. Kweicin has a strong stage presence and his baritone is always a delight.
Overall, there was much to enjoy in this Met Donizetti marathon. I might have preferred the three operas over three weeks, rather than three nights, or each opera to be available to watch for longer. But I suppose there is a limit to what the Met is prepared to offer free! Anyone who fancies more Tudor opera should check the Royal Opera House’s Gloriana, also about the older Elizabeth and Essex. Susan Bullock and Toby Spence turn in sterling performances in the main roles. It is not Britten’s finest, but I enjoyed it a great deal at Covent Garden in 2013, the 60th anniversary of its premiere as part of the Coronation celebrations. Elizabeth II allegedly wasn’t impressed then, but a look-alike actress in New Look suit makes a brief appearance at the start of this production. It’s streamed free until 24th May.
