Pergolesi Adriano in Siria
Marina Comparato
(Adriano), Lucia Cirillo (Emirena), Annamaria dell’Oste (Farnaspe), Nicole Heaston (Sabina),
Osroa (Stefano Ferrari), Francesca Lombardi (Aquilio Tribuno)
Livietta
e Tracollo Monica Bacelli (Livietta), Carlo Lepore (Tracollo)
Accademia Bizantina,
Ottavio Dantone
Opus Arte OA 1065 D (2 DVDs)
To most music lovers the name Giovanni Battista Pergolesi
will conjure up the name of a composer whose death occurred tragically early – he was 26 when he died in 1736 –
but who nevertheless left us with two enduring masterworks: the hugely influential intermezzo La serva padrona and
the bitter-sweet Stabat Mater. Yet there was far more to Pergolesi, including a body of sacred works and four opera
serie, of which Adriano in Siria was the third.
First performed at Teatro S Bartolomeo
in Naples on 25 October 1734, Adriano in Siria was commissioned for the birthday celebrations of the Bourbon queen
mother Elizabeth Farnese. In keeping with his love of theatrical splendour, Charles Bourbon of Spain, newly restored to the
throne of Naples after defeating the Austrians, bankrolled a glittering cast headed by the famous castrato Caffarelli in the
role of the Parthian prince Farnaspe. Metastasio’s 1732 libretto, already set twice previously, involves a fictional
plot based on an invented victory by the Emperor Hadrian - Adriano - over King Osroa of Antioch. Given Hadrian’s supposed
Spanish ancestry, the choice of such a subject may have had particular expediency at that particular moment in the history
of Naples, although until his predictable act of clemency at the end of the opera, Adriano is not an especially admirable
character. Despite being betrothed to the Roman noblewoman Sabina, he has fallen in love with Emirena, the daughter of
Osroa, who is betrothed to Farnaspe. Adriano’s pursuit of Emirena is encouraged and aided by Aquilio, his confidante,
who has an agenda of his own – his desire for Sabina. Thus a scenario is established for the usual complexities, misunderstandings
and intrigue that are the stock in trade of opera seria in general and Metastasian librettos in particular.
The performance stems from a production mounted in Pergolesi’s birthplace Jesi in 2010 to mark the tercentenary
of the composer’s birth. It forms part of a wider project to make all Pergolesi’s operas available on DVD. While
not attempting a historical staging, the production (by Ignacio Garciá) has the inestimable merit of sensitive handling
and simplicity. Thus while the curtain does not open with the ‘grand piazza in Antioch magnificently adorned with trophies’
called for in the libretto, the single set consisting of ruined classical columns may be even more appropriate, given that
historically Antioch was destroyed by an earthquake two years before 117AD, the supposed date of the events that unfold in
the opera. But why, one wonders, does the set have to be so dark throughout the course of the opera, which takes place in
a variety of places? This is a common and inexplicable failing in modern opera production. By and large the singers are allowed
to deliver arias straightforwardly and without the extraneous distraction that is such a curse of modern staging. Costumes,
too, are notable for their classical simplicity, Romans being garbed in cream outfts consisting of elegant long coats over
a suggestion of tunics, while the Parthians are also colour co-ordinated, with suitably exotic eastern dress in greens and
browns. There is an interesting gesture toward authenticity in the inclusion of Pergolesi’s intermezzo Livietta
e Tracollo between the acts, thus allowing us to experience a typical evening in a Neapolitan opera house during the
early part of the 18th century. But we’ll return to that later. Adriano in Siria is given complete but for
the omission of Aquilo’s act I ‘Vuoi punir l’ingrato amante?’ and Osroa’s ‘Ti perdi e
confondi’ from act 4, and some cuts from the plain recitative. As would be expected arias are all cast in da capo
form, with opening sections often incorporating tonal ambiguity and chromaticism in those that express conflicting emotions
or confusion. Otherwise there is a single passage of accompanied recitative for the tormented Osroa in the highly charged
situation that prevails after he believes his daughter to have perished in the palace fire he has instigated (act 1, scene
12), and a final duet for the re-united lovers, Emirena and Farnaspe.
The cast is
in general terms excellent. The only casting I would query is that of soprano Annamaria dell’Oste in the primo uomo
role of Farnaspe originally created for Caffarelli, who was a mezzo castrato. The voice lacks weight and body, being simply
too bright to convey convincingly the masculine nobility of the character, any more than does her very feminine appearance
and a particularly unconvincing moustache. Nevertheless dell’Oste copes well with the contrasting demands of Farnaspe’s
three big arias, the florid divisions and wide range of ‘Sul mio cor’ (act I, scene 5) are confidently met, as
are the cantabile lines of the end of act ‘Lieto così talvolta’, a long, loving duet with a beautifully
played obbligato oboe. Caffarelli was also given the final number in act 2, ‘Torbido in volto e nero’, another
virtuoso aria evoking the image of restless, sullen sea before the outbreak of a storm, a metaphor for the dire situation
in which the imprisoned Emirena, Osroa and Farnaspe find themselves by the end of act 2. The part of Adriano was originally
sung not by a castrato, but a woman soprano, and Marina Comparato, tall, slim and elegant, cuts an impressive figure. Her
singing is marginally less authoritative, but she conveys well the thwarted emperor’s guilty petulance in ‘Dal
labbro’ (act 1), although the ornamentation in the repeat is here unstylish, happily not a general feature of the singing,
and manages to convey even a certain dignity in ‘Fra poco assiso in trono’ (act 4), a final outburst of frustration,
perhaps conveying more resignation than anger.
Sabina and Emirena are beautifully drawn, sympathetic
characters, the Roman proud, dignified in the face of the hurt inflicted upon her by Adriano, but generous hearted once she
realises Emirena’s love is only for Farnaspe. Although ostensibly the seconda donna, the role was
written for another virtuoso singer, Caterina Fumagelli. Here it is sympathetically and splendidly sung by the imposing American
soprano Nicole Heaston. All four of Sabina’s arias not only tell us something new about her, but also make varied and
considerable technical demands: the ambiguity between major and minor in her act 1 ‘Chi soffre’ conveying her
emotional turbulence, her confrontation with Adriano ‘Ah, ingrato, m’inganni’ (act 2, scene 2), angry and
scornful, but never for a moment relinquishing natural dignity, while her ‘Splenda per voi sereno’ (act 2, scene
5), addressed to the lovers she has just re-united, conveys a warmth and truly noble generosity of spirit. This big demanding
aria, with its elaborate coloratura over a wide range is here superbly carried off by Heaston. Quite different again is ‘Digli
ch’è un infedele’ (act 3, scene 1), where Sabina, tortured by false news from the scheming Aquilio that
Adriano wishes to send her away, expresses her violently conflicting emotions in music that now breaks off in silence, now
surges forward. The much put-upon Emirena is an altogether different character, a gentle loving daughter and devoted lover,
but sufficiently innocent to be easily manipulated by Aquilio. ‘Prigionera abbandonata’ (act 1, scene 9) is possibly
the loveliest aria in the opera, an exquisite outflow of emotion and reminder of Pergolesi’s rich lyrical gift. Like
all Emirena’s music, it is beautifully and stylishly sung by mezzo Lucia Cirillo. Scarcely less affecting is act 2’s
‘Quell’amplesso’’, with its gently throbbing strings supporting the anguish she feels for father’s
predicament. Her other act 1 aria ‘Sola mi lascia’ (scene 16) is more animated, Emirena’s despair being
punctuated by fierce chords, here aggressively over articulated by the strings of Accademia Bizantina.
It was, too, a rare error on the part of the production to introduce into the aria business with a noose and birdcage, the
latter a none too subtle metaphor for Emirena’s status as a prisoner.
Her father
Osroa is revealed as a Bajazet-like figure, heroically impetuous and impulsive. His first aria ‘Sprezza il furor’
(act 1, scene 3) is a fast and furious ‘simile’ aria evoking the image of a sturdy oak withstanding the storm.
It is supported by a full orchestral panoply including oboes and horns, its coloratura demands well met by tenor Stefano Ferrari,
as are those of the accompanied recitative already mentioned above and the following aria ‘A un semplice istante’,
another florid aria in which the stricken king’s confused emotions are given full vent. His act 2 ‘Leon piagato
a morte’ is another fully scored ‘simile’ aria in which the now-imprisoned Osroa compares himself to a fatally
wounded lion as he awaits expected death. Aquilo is a scheming, wily customer. The loss of one of his three numbers (the cut
aria is an appeal to Sabina not to reject his love for her) prevents a full portrait. His act 2 ‘Saggio guerriero antico’
is a fairly conventional soldier’s aria with a bold military strut, while ‘Contento forse vivere’ (act 3)
is a fine aria with Lombardy rhythms that has him fondly imagining the successful outcome of his wooing in the opening section,
darkening only briefly to doubts in the B section.
Throughout Ottavio Dantone draws characteristically
accomplished and incisive playing from Accademia Bizantina, just occasionally tempos are pressed a little to hard and the
staccato style of his orchestra can at times become a mannerism. Nonetheless, he shapes slower arias with an admirable sense
of line and much affection, giving full reign to one of Peroglesi’s greatest strengths.
As noted above,
the incorporation of the intermezzo Livietta e Tracollo between acts gives a true flavour of an 18th century Neapolitan
opera performance. Inserted intermezzos always ran the risk of upstaging the main serious opera, their popularity eventually
leading to the establishment of full-length opera buffa. Given the brilliant panache with which Livietta e Tracollo
is carried off here, it still remains a risk. It was a stroke of genius to stage the intermezzo in the auditorium and
on the apron of the stage, thus reminding us that intermezzos were for and about ordinary people, with whom the actors here
mingle. This is of course in direct contrast to the elevated, out-of-reach noble characters on the stage in the main opera,
whose extreme emotions are frequently parodied, as they indeed are by both Livietta and Tracollo. The verve and energy with
which Monica Bacelli and Carlo Lepore carry off the intermezzo is beyond reproach, the former in particular displaying comic
genius in consummate commedia dell’arte style.
The set is completed by a short
introductory talk by a rather fidgety Dantone, whose observation that the sound in the Teatro G.B.Pergolesi is a little dry
is borne out by sound that is otherwise fine. Although not without its faults, this is overall an immensely satisfying performance
of an exceptional opera, reminding us again of the severe loss sustained by music with the premature death of Pergolesi.