(Photo: Zani-Casdio)
It was well after midnight when the final curtain fell on Teatro Alighieri’s production of Händel’s “Giulio Cesare.” It was a long evening, although, such was the quality of the presentation, there would have been few complaints even if it had continued for another hour or more. It was one of those performances in which the singing, the orchestra, the staging, along with the director’s interpretation aligned to create a first-class piece of theatre.
Muti’s Captivating, Multi-Layered Interpretation
The production was underpinned by a fabulous staging, directed by Chiara Muti and supported by scenographer Alessandro Camera, costume designer Tommaso Lagattolla and lighting designer Vincent Longuemare. Not only was it visually engaging with a clearly defined presentation of the narrative, but Muti’s reading probed beneath the work’s baroque surface to reveal a hero in the form of Giulio Cesare, who alone is able to wrestle power from lesser souls that dared to challenge his destiny and thus write himself into the history books as a legendary figure. Moreover, she did so without offending the spirit of baroque theatre or compromising its values.
The stage was dominated by a giant head of Giulio Cesare lying face up and fragmented into eight large blocks. Its purpose went beyond that of scenery to provide visual symbols and metaphors that underpinned Muti’s reading, as well as offering insights into the drama. After the Roman victory over Tolomeo, the fragmented stones are brought together and adorned with a crown of laurel leaves as Cesare is acclaimed ‘Lord of the World and Roman Emperor.’ Other symbols, although equally effective, were more difficult to interpret, such as the mirrors positioned on the back of each stone block, which were used to reflect the behavior, images and values onto their opposites in order to highlight their connection: virtue and vice, the civilized and the barbaric, and even the past and present were contrasted by allowing the audience to look at itself through the prism of the ancient world.
Nor was the use of symbols restricted to the scenery. Costumes and the characters were also subject to Muti’s imaginative interpretation. Some of her ideas were simple and effective, for example, when Cleopatra and Tolomeo first entered the stage, they squabbled over who should wear the golden cloak that symbolizes power, quickly establishing their fractious yet intimate relationship.
There was the odd occasion on which her ideas proved less convincing, such as when Tolomeo is treated by doctors with a giant syringe, which was supposed to illustrate how he viewed his guardians but which actually suggested that he was aware of his own mental instability and thus undermined the extent to which his behavior was pathological.
Frequent references were made to Shakespeare’s plays in an attempt to signify certain characteristics of the protagonists; for example, Sesto sings his aria, “L’angue offeso mai non posa,” clutching a skull, bringing to mind Hamlet’s inability to act on his desire to revenge his father’s murder, and it worked well. It was a conceit that also acknowledged the English connections to Händel and to the opera itself, which was written for a London audience.
Lagattolla’s costumes were divided into two basic types. The Romans were attired in black western, modern costumes with the purpose of connecting them to the civilized, ordered West, whilst the Egyptians were dressed with colorful, ornate golden splendor immediately associated with the excess and decadence of Ancient Egypt. Not that these distinctions were rigidly applied; Tolomeo, for example, in one of his moments of complete madness, is pushed around on a chair, wearing an 18th century European wig. The overall effect was to present the drama unambiguously through Western eyes, reflecting the perspective of Haym’s libretto.
Even for members of the audience who had little interest in the intricacies and symbolic meanings of Muti’s production, it was still a presentation that was able to hold the attention. The narrative was held together by its beautiful staging, which was always on the move. The scene on Mount Parnassus was spectacular. The curtain opened to Cleopatra lying on part of the stone blocks in a delicate pink and white sinuous dress with a figure standing behind her sporting large blue and pink wings that flapped slowly above her. Static moments were rarely allowed to develop. The singers delivered their arias against a background of activity or were themselves asked to present them while attending to other people. Tolomeo, while singing his aria “L’empio sleale indegno,” took the opportunity to strangle one of his slaves and on another occasion to drug Cornelia and plaster her in make-up. The ideas flowed and were almost always successful in promoting the drama.
Dantone Oversees an Engaging Musical Performance
The musical director, Ottavio Dantone, oversaw a splendid musical presentation from the singers and the ensemble Accademia Bizantina. It was a performance full of emotional strength and intensity, with a sensitivity that captured the dramatic twists and turns of the drama. The orchestral sound was clear, vibrant and rhythmically strong with pleasing dynamic and colorful contrasts. It was a reading that was nicely reflected in the performances of the singers, who brought depth and sensitivity to their interpretations, if occasionally at the expense of precision.
One can always rely on countertenor Raffaele Pe to deliver a high-energy, committed interpretation with the emphasis always on characterization and emotional strength, and his portrait of Giulio Cesare was no different. His was a proud, determined Cesare overlaid with an air of vanity; how he enjoyed the accolades of the crowd! And he was more than willing to embrace love’s charms, happily sharing his feelings with an intimate rendition of his aria “Se in fiorito ameno prato,” perched on the edge of the stage, up close to the audience, legs dangling into the orchestra pit.
There was also plenty of strong negative emotion on display, such as when he receives Pompeo’s decapitated head and unleashes his fury at Achilla in the aria “Empio, dirò, tu sei,” spitting out the words coated in anger and delivering the coloratura in staccato fashion, underpinning his unsettled state. Yet, there was also occasional amusement in the way he presented Cesare; during the aria “Va tacito e nascosta,” he weaved his way around the stage while Tolomeo’s men made absurd attempts to murder him, which could not help but bring a smile to the face.
Lys Stars as the Egyptian Queen
Soprano Marie Lys created a compelling portrait of the young queen, Cleopatra. In the early part of the opera, she presented her as spoilt, egocentric and childish. In a clever piece of stagecraft, her personality was expertly captured by having her aria, “Tu la mia stella sei,” sung while having her servants dance around her, mimicking musicians playing instruments, with her as the conductor. As the drama unfolded, so her presentation altered to reflect Cleopatra’s growing maturity as she fell under Cesar’s spell. It was a well-presented and convincing transformation, and also a crucial one, if Cesare’s elevation to that of hero was to be accepted.
Unsurprisingly, Lys’ vocal presentation was equally successful. With her ability to characterize her roles through the voice, using her vocal agility, carefully crafted phrasing, energy and fabulous virtuoso displays, Cleopatra proved to be an ideal vehicle for her talents. Each aria was sensitively rendered to bring out its emotional strengths. In “Da tempesta il legno infranto,” she successfully brought out her joy in being reunited with Giulio Cesare through her animated expressivity and exuberant, fresh coloratura displays, while the aria “V’adoro, pupille” allowed her to display her more reflective qualities with a rendition that caught the piece’s delicacy, subtlety and grace. It was the aria, Piangerò la sorte mia,” however, that really stood out. Alone on stage, she produced a magical rendition; her gentle phrasing, beautifully inflected with emotional depth in the A section, contrasted perfectly with the defiance and bravura of the B section, in which she unleashed a formidable coloratura display.
Countertenor Federico Fiorio possesses a singing voice of rare quality. It has a fresh, clear quality with a pure tone that he uses with sensitivity and intelligence to craft his lines. There is no evidence of anxiety or insecurity in the voice, which moves seamlessly and gracefully across the range; even passages of coloratura or leaps are delivered with elegance and ease. It is not, therefore, a surprise that the audience delighted in his performance as Sesto, whom he portrayed as a man of inaction with the desire but not the strength of character to seek revenge for the death of his father until egged on by his mother. All his arias were beautifully rendered, skillfully capturing the emotional content without the fanciful displays that often descend into posturing.
Contralto Delphine Galou, cast in the role of Cornelia, produced a detailed and sensitive reading that captured her never-ending pain and suffering, as well as the worries that she was forced to absorb for her son, Sesto. Each of her arias was beautifully delivered, notably in the case of “Priva son d’ogni conforto,” which showed off her wonderful vocal expressivity, the sensitivity of her phrasing, and her attractive timbre. Her duet with Sesto, “Son nato/a a lagrimar,” was delicately and movingly rendered, with the two voices combining exquisitely to capture the love between a mother and a son who fear the worst.
Countertenor Filippo Mineccia created a wonderful portrait of the adolescent Pharaoh Tolomeo. Clearly suffering from a serious mental condition, his bizarre behavior veered wildly, and he really did not care! His grasp on reality was tenuous at best, and his threat of violence was ever present, which he randomly inflicted upon those around him, precipitating feelings of remorse that he quickly forgot about. He was very, very dangerous and totally out of control. All his arias were energetically delivered while engaging in some insane, usually unpleasant, behavior, in which he deliberately fashioned the voice to play up the madness that defined his character.
Bass Davide Giangregorio gave a convincing performance as Tolomeo’s general, Achilla. He was suitably authoritative and forceful and managed to maintain his dignity despite being rejected by Cornelia and having to exist within Tolomeo’s orbit. He was provided with two arias and took the opportunity to show off his vocal expressivity and attractive timbre to good effect.
Baritone Clemente Antonio Daliotto, cast in the role of Cesare’s general, Curio, and countertenor Andrea Gavagnin playing the part of Tolomeo’s servant, Nireno, both produced fine performances in what were relatively small roles.
Overall, it was an excellent production on all fronts.
