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The fascinating
Forza DVD (1998 from the Mariinsky Theatre, St Petersburg)
is a full-blooded rendering of a full-blooded, essentially unsubtle,
opera composed for an audience of opera enthusiasts, but no way
updated here for the jaded appetites of today's audiences, brought
up on fast-moving film & TV, and whom younger directors presume
to be always looking for new slants. The main interest of this performance
is historical, with the earlier St Petersburg version of the score
and sets reconstructed to the 1862 designs. We do not have the turbulent
war scenes from the later Italian version nor Alvaro's suicide;
he survives till the final curtain.
The tone of
La Forza del Destino veers between high drama and
low comedy, with intimate exchanges of love and revengeful fury,
and busy crowd scenes with fun at the expense of the ridiculous
monk Fra Melitone (Georgy Zastavny) and, for happier relief,
some sexy display of her attractions by the eye and ear catching
Preziosilla (Marianna Tarasova), mezzo fortune-teller and
cheer leader for battle. For menace and foreboding dark blues predominate,
and the soldiery offer variety with colourful uniforms.
The main difficulties
- to my eyes - arise in the arias and duets and epitomise some of
the problems of live opera for home viewing; many collectors will
take them in their stride. They are static in the old style, offering
little by way of significant gesture, and filmed too close up, with
the singers' mouths wide open, necessarily so to carry over the
orchestra in a large house. Gegam Grigorian (Alvaro) and
Galina Gorchakova (Leonora) are strong and honest, sing well
and convince in their assumptions of the main roles - sample Gorchakova's
'Pace, pace, mio dio'. Leonora's short-lived father, who dies in
the first scene, and her avenging brother (Nikolai Putilin,
a serious disappointment in body language and his unmelodic phrasing)
are rather wooden to watch and listen to, and there must be many
better accounts of their roles on record. Marianna Tarasova, Georgy
Zastavny and Nikolai Gassiev sing well and are never less than watchable
in their character roles. The Kirov chorus is well directed by Elija
Moshinsky in a thoroughly conventional manner, which will be
a relief to older viewers who would also have enjoyed the Salzburg/Furtwangler
Don
Giovanni. Valéry Gergiev keeps the Kirov Orchestra on
its toes and the drama at high voltage.
Even more so
does Guiseppe Sinopoli galvanise the chorus and orchestra
of Deutsche Oper Berlin in the original 1847 version of Macbeth.
We are given many welcome opportunities to watch his electrifying
conducting of a live 1987 performance of enormous intensity and
conviction on everyone's part, an interpretation which highlights
the originality of Verdi's great first essay to realise Shakespeare
on the stage for an opera audience of his time.
Sinopoli encompasses
with flair and absolute precision the populist banalities of some
of the music (which brought to my mind some of Mahler's) as well
as the subtleties of the main scenes, which presage his later Shakespearian
masterpieces. Duncan's murder is quickly achieved and the action
is throughout swift, based on Piave's admirable libretto. Locations
(Luciano Damiani) are neutral and undefined, with background elements
often dimly lit and out of focus (e.g. the banquet guests with witches
in close attendance); disconcerting at first viewing but making
increasingly good sense with familiarity. This approach concentrates
attention upon the power-hungry principals and their inner feelings;
in Luca Ronconi's production you live the nightmare of their
destructive symbiosis as the screws are turned to fulfil the ghastly
predictions of the bearded witches - because of Verdi's need to
use his opera chorus fully, those are many, as are Banquo's murderers
and the exiles mourning the fate of their country.
No worries
about Maria Zampieri or Renato Bruson in close up;
both are the personifications of a marriage made in Hell, complementing
each other to achieve their ambition and doomed to perish in ignominy;
these are magnificent performances to which to return. Gestures
are never exaggerated, always telling; as filmed under the direction
of Brian Large ideally judged for home viewing. The apparitions
scene is purposely confused so that we view it as from within Macbeth's
own tortured mind; Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking scene is riveting.
Indeed, everyone's facial expressions and body language are appropriate
and convincing, with strong support from James Morris (Banquo)
and Dennis O'Neill (Macduff).
The ending
is somewhat perfunctory, which allows the viewer to unwind. Although
the picture format is the old 4:3, the filming is imaginative, concentrating
attention upon the essentials at all times and including memorable
shots of the late, lamented Sinopoli and his ever alert orchestra;
it is not one of those films in which visual elements distract from
the music.
This is a superbly
filmed DVD which repays repeated viewing and should be in everyone's
Verdi collection.
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