Vincenzo
Bellini’s I Puritani (1835) is a seminal watershed work in
Italian opera. It influenced and predated later works of
Giuseppe Verdi, for example, with its use of bass-soprano duets
(Giorgio/Elvira’s in Act 1), its attempt at incorporating the
chorus into dramatic actions, and its liberation of the
traditional cavatina-cabaletta formula through superb dramatic
devices known as the ‘mad scene’ (of which there are no fewer
than three in I Puritani). This last feature works
by freeing up the traditional form through various asides and
interjections by other characters and the chorus, all commenting
on the plight of the delirious heroine (At times Elvira’s Act 2
mad scene sounds more like a trio for soprano, baritone and
bass). The basic slow-fast sections are still
recognizable, except they are now serving a singular purpose of
dramatizing the heroine’s deranged mental state. This ‘mad
scene’ device of projecting lyrical pathos had worked so well in
the theater that Verdi used it for his Lady Macbeth as well as
Violetta (who is ‘mad’ about Alfredo in Act 1)
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A Bellini statue in Catania,
Italy |
Even among
Bellin’s own works, I Puritani is a unique masterpiece.
Unlike Norma and La Sonnambula‚ both of which
stand or fall on the soprano singing the title role‚ I
Puritani is an ensemble piece and needs a really fine cast
(Caruso’s famous admonition, “Il Trovatore needs four
greatest singers in the world”, also applies here). In
Bellini’s days, the ‘Puritani quartet’ comprised of, indeed,
four greatest singers of the time – Giulia Grisi (Elvira)‚
Giovanni Bastista Rubini (Arturo)‚ AntonioTamburini (Riccardo)
and Luigi Lablache (Giorgio). In the 1950’s, we had Maria
Callas, who all but single-handedly brought I Puritani
back to the repertoire through the sheer drama and charisma of
her singing. Then, in the 1970’s, we had a superb ‘Puritani
quartet’ again with Sutherland, Horne, Pavarotti and Ghairov.
Today, I Puritani is firmly established as a staple work
in the repertoire. The only problem is for opera companies to
find an ideal cast, or at least the ideal soprano.
Speight Jenkins,
Seattle Opera’s General Director, says he has waited 25 years to
do I Puritani. He finally struck gold in finding, not
one, but two extraordinarily gifted sopranos to share the role
of Elvira, as well as three other excellent singers to complete
the quartet. Just as remarkable is the fact that three of these
singers all hailed from Seattle Opera’s own Young Artists
Program. With vocal riches such as these, I would not be
surprised if Jenkins decides to do one belcanto opera every
season from now on.
Peter J. Hall’s
30-year-old costumes for the Met still look gorgeous,
evoking the lush romanticism of the opera’s English Civil War
period. The original Ming Cho Lee sets, also classically
beautiful, are not used. Instead, Seattle Opera’s resident
designer Robert A. Dahlstrom created a massive steel
modern castle, inspired by
M.C. Escher, with split-level platforms connected
by a jumble of straight and circular staircases that look more
like a math puzzle than a real building. It all makes sense
when one considers the opera’s heroine who, in her state of
delirium, perceives an improbable sense of reality.
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M.C. Escher's Relativity,
1953
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Robert A. Dahlstrom's set
design for I Puritani, 2008 |
The May 10th
performance featured a steller ensemble cast, led by French
soprano Norah Amsellem’s beautifully sung and acted
Elvira. In her first foray into Bellini, Amsellem did a
commendable job of balancing drama with vocal resources to
create a believable character out of Elvira. Amsellem is no
coloratura soprano in the manner of Natalie Dessay, but a full
lyric soprano with strong coloratura pretensions. As such, the
strengths of her performance lied not in the virtuoso showpieces
(“Son vergin vezzosa”, “Vien diletto”), but in her
superb rendering of Bellini’s long cantilenas (“Qui la voce”)
and her dramatically accented phrasing of Count Pepoli’s words.
In the Act 1 Elvira-Giorgio duet (a precursor to the
Violetta-Germont duet), Elvira hears the commotion of her
beloved Arturo’s arriving entourage and tells Giorgio to be
quiet (“Taci!.. Ah patria mio!”) Amsellem uttered those words
with the impetuous fervor of a woman madly in love. And in the
Act 2 Mad Scene, her impassioned off-stage delivery of “Rendetemi
la speme…o lasciami morire” (“give me hope or let me die”)
was emotionally shattering. Physically, Amsellem is a most
believable actress as well, meltingly sweet in her Act 1
encounter with Arturo and devastatingly distraught when ripping
out flowers from her wedding bouquet upon learning Arturo’s
alleged betrayal. Despite some intonation problems with
sustained high notes, Amsellem came through triumphant in her
portrayal of Elvira as a flesh-and-blood character.
The Elvira for
the May 11th (Mothers Day) matinee was Cuban-American
soprano Eglise Gutiérrez, who is a bird of a different
feather altogether – a true coloratura canary with the warmth of
a light lyric soprano. Physically, Gutiérrez is small in frame
but possesses a fine sense of dramatic timing, as when in Act 1
finale she portrayed Elvira’s mental disintegration from panic
to madness with complete credibility. Elvira’s “Vieni al
tempio” was sung haltingly in a hauntingly elegiac tone. In
Act 3, when Arturo asks Elvira how long they have been
separated, Gutiérrez uttered Elvira’s reply, “tre secoli … di
tormenti” (three centuries of torture) with pitiful
despondency and a darkened coloration on the word “tormenti”.
Where Gutiérrez truly excelled, however, was her stunning
facility, exactitude and speed in delivering a prodigious amount
of fiorituras, trills, runs and roulades (“Son vergine
vezzosa”), and doing so with complete naturalness and a
loveliness of spirit. In the Mad Scene’s ''Vien, diletto'',
she gave not only a brilliant display of note-perfect virtuosity
(its second verse was luxuriously embellished), but an
imaginative expression of the 'pained ecstasy' for which Bellini
asked his Elvira, Giulia Grisi. Gutiérrez is one of the most
thrilling and enthralling belcanto sopranos to have graced the
operatic stage in recent memory.
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 Both Amsellem
and Gutiérrez succeeded spectacularly in their own ways – the
former more vehement, the latter more fragile. The preference
shall be a highly personal one. I could not help but feel
Bellini would have been pleased with either one. However,
judging from the magnitude of pandemonium from the Seattle Opera
audience, Gutiérrez was the clear favorite of the two.
The role of
Arturo was shared by Lawrence Brownlee (May 10) and Bradley
Williams (May 11). Brownlee has the easy high notes for the
aria “A te o cara” in Act 1 and “Credeasi misera”
in Act 3 and he phrased their long melodic lines with disarming
grace and elegance. The gently swaying rubato that informed the
cadences of “A te o cara” was especially fetching – no wonder
Elvira was so smitten by this Arturo. His attempt at the
vertiginous F above high C in “Credeasi misera” was
unsuccessful and it came out sounding more like a D-flat
instead. Williams, singing on May 11, is a lighter tenor and
wisely chose not to attempt the high F at all, although he did a
beautiful C-sharp in “A te o cara” which was otherwise
marred by wooden phrasing and a lack of passion. To be fair,
neither Brownlee nor Williams could muster up enough fiery
conviction when declaiming such fighting words as “Questo
ferro nel tuo petto” (“I’ll plunge the sword into your
chest!”) in the Act 3 finale
As Arturo’s
romantic rival, Riccardo presents some of the great
opportunities for lyric baritone. Mariusz Kwiecien (May
10) in his Act 1 “Ah per semper.. bel sogno beato” sang
with a vibrant, compact tone and a solid high A-flat capping the
end of the aria. Later on, in his fight scene with Arturo
(masterfully directed by Geoffrey Alm with jangling
swords and lots of swashbuckling excitement ), Kwiecien
declaimed his lines with freightening venom worthy of a Don
Giovanni (One could almost hear his Don threatening Leporello’s
life in the Act 1 banquet scene). Baritone Morgan Smith
(May 11), a former member of Seattle Opera's Young Artists
Program, portrayed Riccardo as a lovelorn warrior through his
elegant and suave vocalism. One almost felt for his plight
despite his utter incredulity as a villain.
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Giorgio is
Elvira’s uncle and the most sympathetic character in the opera.
The role calls for a true basso cantante with beauty and
warmth of tone. John Relyea (May 10) is just such a
singer.
Relyea’s sizeable bass-baritone carries great weight and
authority. He was unfailingly sympathetic in his scene with
Elvira and receiving a big ovation for his superb rendering of
Giorgio’s Act 2 aria “Cinta di fiori” describing Elvira’s
madness. Denis Sedov (May 11) was more a baritone than
a bass and did not have the same success with the low-lying Act
2 aria, although he phrased his words with great conviction and
feeling.
Completing the
cast were bass-baritone Joseph Rawley as Elvira’s father,
Lord Gualtiero Walton, mezzo-soprano Fenlon Lamb’s
Enrichetta and tenor Simeon Esper as Riccardo’s sidekick
Sir Bruno Robertson, all of whom singing their small but vital
roles with confident authority. Both Rawley and Lamb are proud
alumni of Seattle Opera's Young Artists Program.
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Relyea as Giorgio (Left),
Kwiecien as Riccardo (Right) in "Suoni la tromba", Act 2 |
If a general
conclusion might be drawn from both performances, it is that the
May 11th was primarily a one-star show for Eglise
Gutiérrez’s truly outstanding Elvira, whereas the May 10th
was an ensemble effort of four similarly gifted artists.
Bellini, with sure theatrical instinct, has arranged for his
heroine to be heard first from off-stage in a prayer.
Gutiérrez’s voice, floating above those of her colleagues’, rang
out pure and true. Amsellem’s voice, in the same ensemble
prayer, was squally and nearly inaudible. In an ideal world,
these would have been my picks for the perfect “Puritani
quartet” – Gutiérrez, Brownlee, Kwiecien and Relyea.
In the Italian
operas before Verdi, the chorus usually comments from aside, and
rarely if ever participates in the dramatic actions. Not so in
this I Puritani. Stage director Linda Brovsky
made sure that the chorus fill the multilevel steel platforms as
fully as possible, as soldiers and peasants. They physically
interact with Elvira in Act 1 as she runs around in frantic
search for Arturo. They register surprise and pity as she lays
on the ground, despondent, launching the great Act 1 finale.
Several props are used to show Elvira’s mental breakdown, such
as a bouquet of flowers torn to shreds, and a dismantled chess
set in the Mad Scene (a brilliant move!) The topnotch
Seattle Opera Chorus sang with great enthusiasm and highly
cultivated refinement.
 Presiding of all
of these was veteran belcanto conductor Edoardo Müller,
who had received high accolades for his Maria Stuarda in
San Diego last February. Müller conducted with a nice mixture
of delicacy and drama. The wide range of emotions in Act 1,
from tender prayers, jaunty military marches, to the heavenly
joy of Arturo’s entrance, were all handled with great élan and
seamless precision by maestro Müller. Everything flowed
together beautifully between the stage and the orchestra pit.
One final kudos:
Seattle Opera has done a great job of educating its audiences by
crafting a nice little illustrated booklet called “Spotlight on
I Puritani”, a fun, tongue-in-cheek introduction to the
opera and its history that will appeal to novices and
connoisseurs alike. It is authored by Jonathan Dean,
who also does the English supertitles. With such loving
dedication, it’s no surprise that Seattle Opera has the highest
per capita attendance of any major opera company in the United
States.
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McCaw Hall's 3000-seat auditorium
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