Damiano Michieletto’s production of Cavalleria rusticana and Pagliacci for The Royal Opera reaches its third revival, receiving generous applause, a popular arrow in the ROH’s quiver. For fans of Michieletto’s style, this is not surprising. His typically incisive and insightful approach focuses and amplifies the truth of both operas and the human condition: love hurts.
We have Silvio in Pagliacci who desperately yearns for Nedda to leave Canio, living in that exquisite agony of a hope born of promises both made and imagined. Michieletto’s “prologue”, in the intermezzo of Cavalleria rusticana, sees the first shoots of their affair emerge, the handsome and popular baker's assisstant rendered bashful as he gently presents bread then a scarf to a woman who has captivated him. In Santuzza, Mascagni gives us the pain of her own awareness that she is a consolation, a rebound relationship to cool the fire of a man who went to war and returned to find his previous lover married. Michieletto’s gaze is unrelenting and the reactions he elicits from his cast are real and raw, true verismo. It is ironic that with all the clashing passions, the moment that seems most moving is the Pagliacci intermezzo in which a grieving Santuzza reveals her pregnancy to Mamma Lucia. Two bereft women take solace in each other and a small surviving part of the man they loved.
The amalgamation of the two operas into a sequential village drama gives us figures we recognise in both halves, including the energetic chorus (led by a deft caricature of a chorus mistress whose increasingly energetic gestures drew warm laughter from the audience). The direction gives the production a feeling of an Ishiguro novel – intensely visual and realistic, but with jarring moments of personal disconnect that open our eyes to the hell of the personal psyche. It’s claustrophobic too; Paolo Fantin’s revolving sets are spacious, but the choreography seems to wall us in as spectators on tragedies from which we cannot escape.
Both casts gave compelling performances, but the most captivating performer was Elena Zilio, who has made the role of Mamma Lucia her own in Michieletto’s production. She didn’t need to sing. A gesture, a movement, an expression: all of these served to convey a tangle of emotional complexities, but above all there was a crusty kindness to her, a warmth that breaks religious boundaries and societal convention. Her small frame completely dominates and there remains power and beauty to her voice. Aleksandra Kurzak’s soprano is slightly more metallic at the top than earlier in her career, but there’s a lovely huskiness to her lower register. She gave a touching performance as Santuzza; Kurzak seemed to embody a tortured vulnerability, wrapping her clothes tightly herself, pressing closely against the walls.
Roberto Alagna’s voice is starting to show signs of age with a slight aridity in the higher register, but his tenor still packs a punch. His Turiddu seemed slightly understated at first, but as the drama progressed cracks began to show and repressed emotions emerge. From the intensity of his central scene with Santuzza to his touching “Mamma, quel vino è generoso”, his performance was unwavering in dramatic commitment. Rachael Wilson’s velvety, sultry mezzo was ideal for her lustful Lola. Dimitri Platanias’ amiable Alfio radiated horror as Santuzza revealed his wife’s betrayal, his voice a touch underpowered in the middle, but forceful at the top.
Platanias returned to sing Tonio in Pagliacci, all affability gone for a nasty would-be rapist, revelling in the revenge wrought upon Nedda. Jorge de León’s powerful punchy tenor, easy at the top, conveyed the violence and paranoia barely concealed beneath Canio’s staged swagger. Despite the beauty of the voice, the grasping nastiness made him an entirely unsympathetic character. Nedda was sung by Anna Princeva with an edge that softened in her duet with Andrzej Filończyk's Silvio, whose bright baritone warranted more to sing.
The Royal Opera Chorus was on excellent form, at its best in the first half with the glorious Easter Hymn. Conductor Daniel Oren’s approach to Cavalleria rusticana was disappointing, with an opening that plodded and bordered on the lethargic. His approach to Pagliacci was tighter and seemed to have more of a grasp on the dramatic pulse.
