Il viaggio a Reims exists more as a connoisseur's curiosity than as a crowd-pleasing comedy. The Rossini rarity opens Opera Philadelphia’s 50th anniversary season in a well-traveled production originally staged by Damiano Michieletto. The Italian auteur’s vision for this screwball farce takes many bold narrative swings, producing memorable moments and striking tableaux, but these isolated pleasures often come at the expense of cogent storytelling and consistent performances.
Press materials widely touted this engagement as Michieletto’s US debut – technically true, I suppose, although the revival was actually helmed by Eleonora Gravagnola. Michieletto largely dispenses with the plot, which concerns a group of stylish pilgrims who find their voyage to the coronation of France’s King Charles X interrupted, and resets the action in a contemporary gallery, where the characters become artists and subjects, historians and patrons. Rossini’s parade of virtuosic arias thus takes the form of a glittery pageant, which somewhat suits a libretto (by Luigi Balocchi) held together by only the thinnest thread of narrative cohesion.
As a sui generis interpretation, this approach mostly worked, especially when it allowed the audience to connect with Rossini’s unfamiliar music through associations with well-known pieces of art. An extended sequence that found famous canvasses coming to life, from Frida Kahlo to Keith Haring, proved delightful. Recasting the character of Lord Sidney (strong-voiced bass Scott Conner) as a lovelorn John Singer Sargent becoming entranced by the Portrait of Madame X was a novel touch. Carla Teti’s haute couture costumes and Alessandro Carletti’s color-blocked lighting frequently created a visual feast.
Yet for a work that resides largely outside the traditional canon, the hard pivot toward an abstract, imagistic staging occasionally proved alienating – I often observed audience members consulting the program’s excellent summary during the performance to keep up. Were this an actual exhibit presented at a museum, one might have wished for a more unified curatorial vision.
As with many of Opera Philadelphia’s productions, the musical strength started in the pit, where Corrado Rovaris led a spirited reading of the madcap score. Tempi were fast and flashy in a way that helped move some of the work’s more lugubrious sections along, and the juicy woodwinds proved a consistent delight throughout the evening.