The 1788 premiere of Cublai, gran kan de' Tartari, Antonio Salieri's dramma eroicomico, was canceled. The opera, which depicted the Russian Tsar in a less than flattering light, was prohibited by the censor after Kaiser Joseph II forged a surprise alliance in 1787 with Catherine the Great to fend off the Turks, and never saw the stage in Salieri’s lifetime. Although mounted in 1998 in Würzburg (in translation, with Diana Damrau cast as the Bengali princess Alzima), MusikTheater an der Wien has touted this as the first premiere in Italian, which technically it is... almost.
Director Martin G Berger and dramaturg Philipp Amelungsen have exhaustively reworked the story and the libretto. Here, the composer himself, played by Christoph Wagner-Trenkwitz, travels through time and lands in early 2022, just in time for Russian war to threaten the opera’s performance once again, this time as part of the anniversary gala for a confectionary run by Kubla Khan’s descendant, Schorsch.
Broadly, his business, which features a spherical chocolate bon-bon suspiciously resembling a Mozartkugel, needs updating and a financial shot in the arm. Schorsch looks to merge with Alzima, here the head of a major Chinese conglomerate, and hopes to pawn her off on his infantile, gay son, Lipi. Things do not go as planned.
The corporate updating, involving modernizing the racist logo and – in an apparent nod to Peter the Great's beard-ban (?!) – forcing the men to shave their beards and dress like drag queens on limited budgets while the women inexplicably don fake facial hair. The first act closes with an incongruous ‘crazy dance’ scene, another tired staple in light opera in the German speaking world, especially without any discernible reason behind it.
It is probably all a bit too much to take on and, with Salieri narrating throughout in German, ultimately feels brutally heavy-handed. Berger’s additional dialogue is sometimes incongruous alongside the opera's text and when it does work, still fails to be entertaining. Salieri’s opera is long enough by itself and, although there are truly beautiful moments in its numerous arias, there is a homogeneity to the harmonic language that grows tiresome over time, even in Christophe Rousset’s expert hands. Les Talens Lyriques is a stunning period ensemble and played with exceptional nuance, but they were swallowed in the acoustics of the overlarge Halle E; there is nothing gripping enough musically to keep the audience enraptured for over three hours.
Fortunately, the cast is solid. While none of the characters have been made more than flat caricatures, blessedly they all can sing. Carlo Lepore showed heft and range as the patriarch, while Marie Lys, a wonderful Baroque singer, had brilliant coloratura moments as the shrewd businesswoman, Alzima. It was a fun twist to put Lauranne Oliva in the trouser role of Lipi, and while I might prefer a countertenor, especially when cast in a queer partnership with her kinky mentor Posega (played convincingly by Leon Košavić), she sounded great and seemed to relish the absurdity of it all. Another standout was Alasdair Kent, whose slender tenor soared as Khan’s nephew, Timur, while the scheming duo of Giorgio Caoduro (Bozzone) and Ana Quintans (Memme) likewise kept up their end of the bargain vocally.
In short, if you are going to throw everything and the kitchen sink into a new production, then it all has to be realized extremely well to land successfully. This felt like the equivalent of landing in a corporate boardroom, but one inexplicably gilded and filled with dancing chocolate balls, tired references, and reminders of war. It was not a terrible way to spend an evening, but nothing I would make a habit of.
