It must be slightly frustrating to be remembered for your first work and then largely forgotten thereafter. Pietro Mascagni, forever associated with Cavalleria rusticana, wrote another 14 operas, yet few have enjoyed anything approaching the familiarity of his youthful masterpiece. Enter Wexford Festival Opera, where slightly outré works are regularly given a second chance. Opening its 75th anniversary festival, Mascagni’s symbolist Iris arrived with considerable expectations – and with the considerable attraction of Joseph Calleja among its cast.
Briefly, the plot revolves around the eponymous Japanese heroine, a naïve young woman who becomes the object of obsession for the wealthy Osaka, who has her abducted and taken to his palace in the pleasure district. Her blind father, believing that she has rejected him, his world and his traditional values, curses her. The emotional cruelty of the situation is that Iris is rejected both by the world that has exploited her and by the father who should have protected her. Distraught, she throws herself into a ravine. Yet Mascagni does not end with straightforward tragedy: as his heroine dies, iris flowers bloom and the Hymn to the Sun returns, transforming her death into something mystical and almost transcendent.
Under Rosetta Cucchi’s direction, the themes of exploitation and despoiled innocence are handled with great sensitivity. Rather than seeking shock value, of which there was ample opportunity, Cucchi creates a compassionate world, inviting us to empathise with Iris’ plight. This makes the ending all the more emotionally powerful, resulting in a convincing and satisfying theatrical experience. Tiziano Santi’s sets and the clever, dreamlike video montages of Thomas Achitz create a symbolist, mythical Japan. The opening act is adorned with tasteful scenes of nature, contrasting with the decadent gold trappings of Osaka’s palace and the detritus of society in Act 3.
The principals were uniformly excellent, bringing their characters vividly to life. Soprano Leyla Gu gives an outstanding performance of the title role, conveying curiosity and innocence before descending into bewilderment and terror in the face of debauched sensuality. Her voice was powerful yet capable of the most delicate wisps of phrasing, conveying an almost ethereal purity. Like all great sopranos, the higher she sang, the more comfortable she seemed, like a sports car purring where other cars begin to shriek. Her acting was utterly captivating, as was her balletic grace, particularly when she was hoisted elegantly towards the ceiling at the end.
Joseph Calleja was her equal as the predatory Osaka. His rendition of “Apri la tua finestra” revelled in the dramatic irony of a love song that preceded the destruction of Iris’ life. The sweet heft of his voice and taut vibrato made him vocally seductive even as he attempted to seduce Iris. I was particularly struck by the conflict between his natural lyricism and Osaka’s darker dramatic function. As Calleja paced menacingly around the cage in which Iris was trapped, the sheer beauty of his voice belied the ugliness of his actions.
Jihoon Kim was marvellous as Il Cieco, Iris’ blind father. Although his role is less prominent than those of the two principal protagonists, he was present at crucial moments, first warning his daughter of the deception inherent in the puppet theatre and, most devastatingly, denouncing her at the end of Act 2. His mellifluous bass lent solemnity and conviction to the father’s righteous anger, while his portrayal of blindness was thoroughly convincing. The final male character of note is Kyoto, the slimy procurer, sung by Jolyon Loy. Dressed in an open leather jacket revealing chest tattoos, he looked every inch the part and delivered his lines with a powerful baritone.
The Wexford Festival Opera Chorus was outstanding. Mascagni gives the chorus some thrilling music, at times representing society as a threatening, predatory crowd, which the singers conveyed with terrific conviction and verve. The opera is framed by a Hymn to the Sun, which opened the evening in silhouette against a rising sun, setting up great expectations. Its return at the end felt magnificently redemptive, sung from the rafters of the opera house in a striking final tableau.
In the pit, conductor Francesco Cilluffo kept the score on track. Mascagni’s music has its uneven moments, with less compelling passages between the great surges of passion. Cilluffo navigated these with assurance, maintaining a sense of the opera’s overall arc and allowing the score’s more magnificent moments to make their full impact. Finally, kudos to the ballerinas, puppeteers and aerialist, whose contributions helped illuminate Mascagni’s dreamlike world. With direction this sensitive and a cast of such quality, Iris deserves to be heard more frequently.
Andrew's trip was partially funded by Wexford Festival Opera.
