(Photo: Bill Cooper)

Spiders do not have the best of reputations. Known as unsociable, solitary creatures, they remain aloof, but alert to the slightest movement in their deadly webs. They patiently await their prey to fall into the trap, which they then efficiently despatch, store, and eventually consume. Female spiders are considered to be particularly cold and vicious creatures, many species kill, and even occasionally eat, the male after they have mated.

The second act of Welsh National Opera’s presentation of “Roberto Devereux” begins with the shadow of a giant spider cast upon a bright orange window, which transforms into a shadow of the English Queen, Elisabetta I. It is a motif which runs through Alessandro Talevi’s production of Donizetti’s opera.

The Spider Queen

In Act one there is brightly lit tank on one side of the stage, with a shadow of a sedentary spider on its front glass. Occasionally other shadows, of insects or moths appear, which have been introduced to keep it fed. If it was an obvious metaphor, it was nevertheless cleverly worked into the production. Elisabetta’s court is a web of intrigue, in which her advisors and courtiers vie and conspire with each other to promote their own interests.

Elisabetta, stands alone, a solitary figure, who must act decisively and with deadly precision if she wishes to preserve her position. Anyone who gets too close risks the consequences of being caught in the web. Roberto Devereux, the Queen’s favorite and with whom she is in love, has become too close, and in a deadly act she signs his execution warrant.

The metaphor finds its most visually compelling form during the second act. Elisabetta, who is furious at Devereux’s betrayal, mounts her throne, which transforms into a giant mechanical spider, on which she marauds around the stage, attacking Devereux, who is eventually led away to the tower to await his execution.

Talevi’s use of spiders and insects, however, was restricted to that of metaphor, but never heavy-handedly so, nor in an attempt to bring a new or tangential reading to the work. In fact, his direction was largely conservative, focused on the figure of Elisabetta, and the conflicts she experiences between her role as a powerful sovereign and that of a vulnerable woman, and as such fully in accordance with Donizetti and his librettist, Cammarano’s intentions. Moreover, Talevi’s direction created a well-paced and dramatically sensitive reading, in which not only was the character of Elisabetta carefully used as a focal point, around which everything revolved, and in which her inner tensions and anxieties were clearly exposed, but the personal stories other characters were also fully developed, and given a clear and nuanced dimension.

The sets designed by Madeleine Boyd and lit by Matthew Haskins were appropriately dark, gloomy and full of foreboding, consistent with a spider’s lair and the dark corridors of power. Scenery was minimal, consisting essentially of a single frieze of windows upon which shadows were occasionally projected. Likewise there were few props, of which the mechanical throne-cum-spider dominated. Boyd was also responsible for the costumes, which were imaginatively designed, and although based upon 16th century styles, were given a contemporary twist; Elisabetta’s back costume with a black knee-length grass-type skirt, with big black boots was particularly successful and, strangely, still managed to evoke the Tudor period. Generally, all the cast were dressed in black, the exceptions being Devereux who was given a greyish long coat, making him appear as a desperado (which indeed he is), and Sara whose costume was black and blue, so as to contrast her with her love-rival, Elisabetta, whose own costumes included colorful red dresses, which also had the effect of elevating her above the position of her court.

The True Queen of the Night

It was the singing, however, that really shone. It may have been possible to find the occasional blemish here or there, or pick out a performance which could have been improved at the margins. But that would be have been self-defeating, for this was a cast immersed in their characters, who all put in strong performances and combined to create a sound that had strong forward dynamic, and was dramatically convincing.

It was Joyce El-Khoury, however, in the role of Queen Elisabetta, who produced the standout performance of the evening. She gave an emotionally intense portrayal, her acting commanding attention throughout. However, it was her vocal brilliance which really impressed. Her ability to integrate her singing into the emotional state of the character was impressive with every word, every phrase carefully matched to the dramatic situation. Her vocal lines were crafted with such detail, and contained the subtlest of accents and dynamic variations, the type of which is able to turn a strong performance into a great one, and elevate a singer above the rest of the cast.

Her quality, of course, is founded upon her strong technique and interpretative intelligence, but she also possesses a voice which has an innate beauty, which she is able to burnish with a variety of colors.

From her first aria, L’amor, suo mi fé beata,” in which Elisabetta reflects on her love for Devereux, El-Khoury showed off her subtle phrasing and the delicacy of her fine embellishments. As Elisabetta’s situation deteriorates and comes under greater emotional pressure, the vocal demands of the role increase, which El-Khoury met with apparent ease, the agility and flexibility of her voice and her ability to maintain its quality were remarkable and a delight to listen to.

In her final aria”Vivi, ingrato,” her voice was still fresh, and despite the grueling demands of the role. She span out delicate lines and concluded with a beautiful legato sung pianissimo. It was a performance which not only delighted the senses, but one that was dramatically compelling, catching the conflict at the heart of Elisabetta’s character.

Lover Triangle

Although the opera is called “Roberto Devereux,” he is not the focal point of the work, and takes his place alongside the other characters in a secondary role to that of Elisabetta. It fell to tenor Barry Banks to essay the role. He has sweet sounding tenor, which he used with skill to craft an ardent courageous lover. It’s a complex character as he has his eye on the throne, but is actually in love with Sara. His main contribution comes in the ensembles, in which his voice was pleasingly matched to the other singers. However, whilst awaiting his death, he sings his aria, “A te dirò negli ultimi singhiozzi,” which allowed him to indulge himself with an attractive solo, for which he received deserved applause.

The Lithuanian mezzo-soprano Justina Gringyté was cast as Elisabetta’s love rival Sara and made a powerful impact in the role. She gave an emotionally charged performance, and thus acted as a mirror to El-Khoury’s Elisabetta. She possesses a colorful palette which she used intelligently to amplify the emotional impact of her singing. There is also a steely edge to her voice which again helped define her anxieties.

The duet with Devereux, “Dacché tornasti, ahi misera,” in which they declare their love for each other, was beautifully sung, the two voices intertwining gracefully and then passionately, in a wonderful example of bel canto. In her confrontation scenes with Nottingham and Elisabetta she displayed a more strident and forceful side to the portrayal, helped by her ability to project the voice firmly and powerfully. She also successfully brought depth to a character which can easily fade into the background.

The Italian bass Biagio Pizzuti made an excellent impression in the role of Nottingham. Initially upright and dignified, he transforms into a man bent on revenge, determined to see Devereux die and his wife suffer. He has a well-grounded voice, with a beautiful timbre. It is firm and secure and he is able to project clearly and forcefully.

In his opening aria, “Forse in quel cor sensibile,” he gave voice to his underlying jealousy, the measured tone of his bass slowly outlining his fears. Later, however, after realizing that his fears have materialized, he confronts Sara in the duet, “Non sai che nume,” his voice now tinged with a vicious undertone. Gringyté’s response also captured Sara’s rising fear and anger in a dramatic confrontation in which the vocal sparks ignited the stage.

The minor roles of Lord Cecil and Sir Walter Raleigh were undertaken by the tenor Robyn Lyn Evans and the baritone Wyn Pencarreg, respectively, and both performed well.

James Southall conducted the Welsh National Opera Orchestra and produced an energetic and animated reading, which captured the dramatic intensity of the work. The chorus, which did not actually have such a large role to play, sang exceptionally well, their voices wonderfully alive and dramatically potent.

Having seen a number of excellent presentations of Donizetti rarities over the past year, this must rank as one of the best. Partly this is because it is one of Donizetti’s better operas, containing some fabulous melodies and having a narrative that has been well-constructed, and a character in Elisabetta which has been well-defined. However, it is also because this production and its musical standards were so high. And also it was due, in no small part, to the quite brilliant performance of El-Khoury.