"He blacked out a tooth. He painted a devil the size of a fist on his chest—and right when I’m singing to him, he pulls his shirt open and shows it".
Sondra Radvanovsky tells New York Magazine just how far Dmitri Hvorostovsky will go to make her corpse.
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Il trovatore - Royal Opera House, 13 April 2009 (first night)
If the first night singing didn't quite hit dress rehearsal standards (I wonder why?) it was still the high point of this otherwise dismal production. A stop-start narrative and half-cooked characters make Il trovatore not the easiest opera to stage. Nevertheless, it's musically strong, truly inventive and a production that steers the audience away from too much left-brain analysis can capitalise on the thrills buried not too far beneath the surface.
But not this one. The monumental sets with their giant pillars and furnaces and gratings are handsome but randomly irrelevant - a palace patio, a railway station, an industrial pizzeria. And when a character really needs some help from the furniture, there's nothing there. How can Leonora mistake Luna for Manrico when they're both in plain view in front of her? Now if Roberto Alagna had been given a nice pillar to hide behind, we would all have sniggered less.
Not that there is much action. Characters barely engage with each other, movement is restricted to stock operatic gesture. It's as if they've all rehearsed on different continents from an Acting for Dummies video and come together for the first time tonight.
Add murky lighting, top off with thumb-twiddling set changes every twenty minutes, and what little momentum is built up in the turgid, static scenes evaporates. The final nail in this particular coffin is the unintentional comedy of the last scene, with everyone writhing on the floor like salted slugs.
Oh well, at least the sword fights (always a ROH strong point) provided a few seconds thrill.
Dmitri Hvorostovsky's dignified Luna provided the vocal highlight. Am I abusing my power? Luna asks himself as he realises there's only one way he's ever going to get the girl. This is no cartoon villain, as Hvorostovsky's noble military bearing emphasises, but a victim of his own desires.
Roberto Alagna's vocal production didn't have the ease of the rehearsal, and he often seemed disengaged - though he did manage to pull out his big numbers with a certain panache. And I was touched to see what a generous colleague he proved to Malgorzata Walewska, another singer whose form had dipped somewhat. At least she managed to whip up some gypsy passion (an emotion sorely lacking elsewhere). Her harsh, throaty vocals wouldn't pass muster in every role, but they added a certain dramatic integrity to her Azucena.
Sondra Radvanovsky was the clear audience favourite. She showed much more emotional involvement in her character than she had at the rehearsal, but at the expense of a degree of vocal control. It's a big, jolie-laide sort of a voice, and I'm not sure yet if I actually like it, but right now Radvanovsky's miles ahead of any other Leonora.
Mikhail Petrenko (Ferrando) and Monika-Evelin Liiv (Ines) were again strikingly impressive.
Not so Carlo Rizzi. Although the Royal Opera House orchestra played cleanly and accurately for him, he just could not keep them together with the singers, racing ahead for every cabaletta, dragging his heels behind whenever the pace slowed. But though he took a maximalist line, with changes of pace or scoring highlighted (often grotesquely so), nothing could compensate for the depressingly inert spectacle on stage. Time to throw this particular baby on the fire if you ask me.
I should perhaps point out that the majority of the tourist-heavy holiday audience were massively enthusiastic about the whole thing - there's clearly no accounting for drink taste.
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I don't usually write about rehearsals because you don't necessarily get 100%-honed performances, and its not really fair to make public comment in those circumstances. But yesterday's general rehearsal for the ROH's latest run of Trovatore was so superb I feel a duty to spread the word. (And just in case Monday's opening night doesn't reach the same heights - but let's not go there yet).
We all know what Caruso said - that all Il Trovatore needed was the four best singers in the world. And with this cast - Roberto Alagna, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Sondra Radvanovsky and Malgorzata Walewska - it came as close as you could hope for.
Dmitri Hvorostovsky's Luna has been the highlight of previous runs of this production. Well, this time he's got stiff competition, but once again he sang with nobility and distinction. Just like he always does. And was it wishful thinking, or have his acting skills taken a dramatic (ha!) turn for the better? In recital, his natural exuberance is as memorable as his leather pants. But stick him in an opera, and he often looks as if he's reading from an autocue. Not in this show. Even the Egli era tuo fratello! at the end was, for once, not remotely tittersome - his quale orror! sent a jolt through the auditorium.
And here's my profound rumination of the week. Dima's snowy hair is absolutely perfect for every role he plays, whatever the character, whatever the period. So why do production designers neverever duplicate it for other singers? Does he have copyright hair or something?
The Angela-less Alagna seems back on top form. He sounds healthy, he even looks a bit slimmer. Manrico is a real test of his abilities, and while you never feel there's a millimetre to spare, ultimately there's no audible strain whatsoever. He just grabs every note and hurls it forth heroically. So much for his plans to chicken-out from half of the murderous Di quella pira, as the Daily Telegraph's recent interview claims. He belted out both verses like the champion of the tenor Olympics. If he naughtily slipped out of character to acknowledge the applause, who can blame him? And in the tender, lyrical moments that are more his home territory, wooing Leonora or soothing his dear old mum, the natural beauty of his voice shone through to heart-melting effect.
Sondra Radvanovsky wobbled a bit to begin with, but her supreme technical control soon became apparent. She spun her long lines out silkily and crested even the highest notes with liquid ease. Every note and every syllable was shaped and coloured in minutely-nuanced detail. Inevitably, it lacked the thrill of spontaneity - she's a sort of earthy Renee Fleming in that respect. I wasn't always convinced she was living the part either - her dedication to crafting the beautiful line often distanced her from the heart of the role. But I can't think of anyone right now who could sing Leonora better.
Malgorzata Walewska was a bit of a find as Azucena, with a rich lower register and a winning line in dramatic venom that more than compensated for some insecurities on top.
OK, that's your four best singers, but this production is immaculately cast top to toe. Mikhail Petrenko, a mahogany bass in the classic Russian style, has great presence as well as a fabulous voice - what a terrific Ferrando. Monika-Evelin Liiv's Ines more than held her own against Sondra Radvanovsky. And Haoyin Xue, who never made much of an impact on me when he was in the ROH's Young Artist programme, has matured into a fine, solid singer.
Despite the best casting it's ever had, and despite fine 19th century set and costume designs, the production is still as dire and inert as it ever was. It looks like some dredged-up '70's relic even though it can't be more than ten years old, and it makes the legendarily-'difficult' storyline even more incomprehensible and absurd. But more on that after the opening night.
And the audience weren't just the usual riff-raff. What a surprise to see sitting in a private box - Anna Netrebko and Erwin Schrott. She wore a loose beige geometric-patterned shift, chatted and signed autographs for her neighbours on either side, and applauded enthusiastically along with everyone else. A lousy phonecam shot:
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