Think of Otello and it’s likely to be that miraculous collaboration between Giuseppe Verdi and his librettist Arrigo Boito, a near perfect operatic adaptation of Shakespeare. Less familiar – and far less Shakespearean – is Gioachino Rossini’s 1816 opera, not least because three of the four demanding main roles are written for tenors. But given the interest of star singers such as Cecilia Bartoli (a fine Desdemona) and Juan Diego Flórez (always Rodrigo, never Otello), Rossini’s opera earns the occasional outing. It’s entirely fitting that this knockout new production in Pesaro, Rossini’s hometown, is directed by another local, Rosetta Cucchi.
In Rossini's version, it’s best to forget Shakespeare. He was not librettist Francesco Maria Berio’s main source and there’s little in the first two acts to suggest anything beyond usual opera seria tropes: a secret marriage, a disapproving dad, scheming rivals. Even the pivotal handkerchief is replaced by a love letter. It’s only in Act 3, with Desdemona’s Willow Song and the final tragedy, that one finally recognises the Bard.
Tiziano Santi’s sets and Ursula Patzak’s costumes offer a vaguely contemporary setting, dominated by a large banqueting table in the outer acts, switching to laundryroom in Act 2. A pair of video panels sometimes depict the characters’ innermost thoughts in reaction to what is happening on stage. But there’s another panel, inset on the left, from which Desdemona’s maid Emilia – or her double – views events. For we are in flashback mode, the sinfonia depicting her showing people into the apartment, which is now up for sale, with newspaper headlines flashed on screen to depict the shockwaves that greeted Desdemona’s death. During the opera, we watch Emilia relive events, powerless to prevent the murder of her mistress.
Male violence against women is Cucchi’s central message and it’s one that she delivers strongly. We witness Iago’s physical assault on Emilia, Elmiro’s slap when his daughter Desdemona refuses to marry Rodrigo, Otello’s temper erupting when he’s quick to believe his wife has been unfaithful. And on video, we see Elmiro pull a young Desdemona out of ballet class, a painful memory that has scarred her.
Tenor testosterone flies in three sweaty duets. Iago prepares a line of cocaine for Rodrigo and later poisons Otello’s mind. Rodrigo eventually faces down Otello with a revolver and they engage in a round of Russian roulette before Desdemona intervenes. Otello knocks her to the ground before fleeing to his duel. When she comes round, Desdemona is joined on stage by a chorus of women in bloodstained nightgowns, victims of domestic abuse, holding up palms marked with “No!”. Among them is Isaura, a captive from Africa, whom Desdemona sings about in her Act 3 Willow Song. Rather than dying for love in the libretto, we see Isaura being strangled on video. On stage, Isaura dances in her wedding dress before shedding it and rising to the flies, where five other bridal gowns dangle, all destined to drop when Desdemona is killed. It’s powerful imagery for a powerful message.
The cast was exceptionally strong, particularly the vocal pyrotechnics of the three main tenors. Enea Scala sounded in terrific form, his bronzed, robust tenor the darkest of the three, but with an exciting squillo for Otello’s trumpet-like outbursts. Dmitry Korchak was the most lyrical of the three as Rodrigo, though there was power and agility to wow the audience, particularly in his Act 2 aria, “Ah! come mai non senti”, and he squared up to Scala’s Otello strongly. Antonino Siragusa is a Rossini veteran. His tenor sits higher than the other two and is a more slender instrument, but he brought incisive attack to Iago’s machinations. The three were thus nicely contrasted in the three tenor duets in the opera – what a shame Rossini didn’t compose an all-tenor trio here (that would have to wait another year, in Armida).
Eleanora Buratto sang a noble Desdemona, with beautiful tone and elegant legato. Her soprano has a lovely buttery quality in her softer moments and her Willow Song was most touching. Her Act 2 aria-finale “Che smania! ahimè! che affanno?” was most affecting, especially given Cucchi’s statement here. Adriana di Paola’s tangy Emilia was not always even-toned. Evgeny Stavinsky’s firm bass made for a resolute Elmiro and Julian Henao Gonzalez – another tenor – shone in the brief gondolier’s song at the start of the final act. The Coro del Teatro Ventidio Basso made an excellent impression.
Yves Abel drew sensitive playing from the Orchestra Sinfonica Nazionale della Rai, with some fine horn and woodwind solos, as well as an excellent harp (Margherita Bassani) in the Willow Song.
For both the quality of Cucchi’s staging – the classiest of the festival’s productions this year – and the often outstanding singing, this made as strong a case for Rossini’s Otello as I can imagine, Verdi, Boito and Shakespeare notwithstanding.
Mark’s accommodation in Pesaro was funded by the Amici del ROF
