Opera’s most famous mad scene occurs in Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, 18 minutes of rapidfire trilling and bloodstained coloratura, after which the soprano’s work is done for the evening. In Bellini’s I puritani, however, Elvira loses her mind at the end of Act 1, when she believes she has been jilted at the altar by Arturo, and she spirals even further during Acts 2 and 3. It’s a long, giddy descent into madness and demands an outstanding singer to pull it off.
The last new Royal Opera Puritani appeared 62 years ago (the 1992 Andrei Șerban production was hired from Welsh National). Franco Zeffirelli’s 1964 staging was mounted for reigning bel canto queen, Joan Sutherland, and it's for another once-in-a-generation soprano, Lisette Oropesa, that the opera has been dusted off, directed by Richard Jones.
Oropesa, who also headlined the Metropolitan Opera’s new production this season, is in her absolute vocal prime. As the happy bride of Act 1, the coloratura of her polonaise “Son vergin vezzosa” sparkled with diamantine brilliance; pining for Arturo’s return, her range of colours in “Qui la voce” was wide, sometimes pared to the merest silver thread; and then the ornaments in the second verse of her delirious cabaletta “Vien, diletto, è in ciel la luna” were more florid than the Chelsea Flower Show. This was bel canto singing to crown a new golden age.
But the success of Oropesa’s performance lay just as much in her dramatic involvement. Whatever one may think of Jones’ production (more anon), he draws an inspired performance from his prima donna. At her wedding, Elvira displays a child-like joy where she already seems removed from reality so that her descent into madness feels perfectly plausible, suddenly muttering and gesturing to an imaginary Arturo and tossing off a cadenza line while sprinting a lap of honour à la Violetta in Richard Eyre’s Traviata. When Arturo finally reappears in the final act, Elvira seems unable to see him, in a believable state of shock. Suddenly, the mists clear and she’s lucid again… although probably not for long given the way Jones crassly denies them a happy-ever-after at the final curtain.
Ironically, Jones’ 2022 staging of Alcina, also starring Oropesa and returning this autumn, was set among 17th-century Puritans – heck, there was even a Cavalier (spaniel) – so he seemed well primed for this slice of English Civil War history. But this is the English Civil War through the lens of an Italian composer and librettist writing for a Parisian audience, so don’t expect historical fidelity. The action is clearly staged, however, with brief video displaying the exchange of letters between Elvira and Arturo filling in some of the backstory. Even the business with Enrichetta (widow of the recently executed Charles I) donning Elvira’s bridal veil to escape custody with the Royalist Arturo’s assistance is made clear.
Jones is aided by Hyemi Shin’s set designs, a Plymouth fortress lined with sandbags, a slide-on chapel and prison cell keeping the plot moving. Elvira’s reunion with Arturo takes place in the Valton family crypt… candlelit romance at its creepiest. Riccardo, the Puritan general once betrothed to Elvira, is painted even more villainously than usual. There is the suggestion that he’s about to rape Elvira at the end of Act 1 and then, having hit the bottle big time – not very puritanical – he stalks her, bent on vengeance despite Cromwell’s last minute pardon of Royalist prisoners.
The rest of the singing ranged from serviceable to good. Sardinian tenor Francesco Demuro has a very narrow-bore tone and often forced his voice heavily, but there’s a lot of ping to his instrument which made for an exciting Arturo. He phrased with great musicality and although the treacherous high F in “Credeasi, misera!” came out as a yelp, this was a crowd-pleasing performance.
Andrzej Filończyk’s bullish Riccardo matched Jones’ vision, his juicy baritone subjected to some coarse singing. Ildebrando D’Arcangelo’s robust bass made for a sympathetic Giorgio Valton, Elvira’s uncle. Their lengthy Act 2 duet that concludes with the rousing “Suoni la tromba” was suitably stentorian, including an on-stage trumpeter. Brazilian mezzo Marcela Rahal made the most of her brief role as Enrichetta.
Holding everything together expertly in the pit was Riccardo Frizza, 25 years into his career (almost to the day) but only now making his Royal Opera debut. He is a bel canto expert, Musical and Artistic Director of the Donizetti Opera festival in Bergamo, and his keen ear for balance and orchestral colour resulted in a vibrant reading of Bellini’s score, which is a joy to hear back at Covent Garden.
