The Teatro alla Scala has a complex history with Bellini's Norma. After Maria Callas’ revolutionary interpretations in 1952 and 1955, only two legends – Leyla Gencer and Montserrat Caballé – have dared challenge her legacy. The last performance at La Scala was in 1977. Now, nearly half a century later, the theatre presents a new production, featuring perhaps the finest singers of our time.
The tension in the air was palpable. Marina Rebeka, portraying the Gallic priestess secretly in love with Pollione, the Roman proconsul occupying her homeland, demonstrated both courage and deep commitment to a role that is notoriously demanding, even without the added burden of looming shadows. In the iconic aria Casta Diva, she appeared somewhat hesitant, perhaps weighed down by immense expectations or fatigued from an intense rehearsal schedule.
On the podium, Fabio Luisi did little to elevate the performance, failing to capture the magical, moonlit atmosphere needed to support the prayer. More broadly, his tempi felt inconsistent, too rushed in faster passages and overly sluggish in slower ones, lacking a cohesive artistic vision to unify the performance. At times, the martial elements bordered on the bombastic, with the cymbal crashes nearly undermining the final concertato, one of the most sublime pieces of music ever composed.
Rebeka, however, gained confidence as the evening progressed. Already in the cabaletta “Ah! bello a me ritorna”, her coloratura was both crisp and commanding, her high notes gleaming with a mix of silver and steel.
Vasilisa Berzhanskaya brought warmth and depth to the role of Adalgisa, her velvety mezzo-soprano enriched by stunningly secure high notes. Her bronzed tone defies strict fach classification—her soprano range is as powerful and resonant as her mezzo. The duets with Rebeka were among the evening’s highlights: the Act 1 duet was tender and emotional, building toward a spectacular finale. Here, Luisi found the right momentum and emotional weight. Rebeka was ferocious in her denunciation of Pollione, hurling her descending scales like verbal daggers, each note dripping with visceral contempt. The slower middle section of the trio (“Ah, di qual sei tu vittima”) was imbued with aching sadness, while the closing segment erupted from Rebeka like a volcano, Norma’s vindictive fury unleashed in a blazing, steely, splendid high D.
In the Act 2 duet “Mira, o Norma”, performed in its entirety with both stanzas, Berzhanskaya and Rebeka delivered elegant, finely crafted variations. Berzhanskaya’s coloratura was exquisitely precise and effortlessly executed, her soaring high notes blending seamlessly with Rebeka’s lines. In this moment, Luisi provided truly sensitive orchestral support, allowing the voices to shine and enhancing the emotional resonance of the scene.
Freddie de Tommaso’s tenor is ideal for Pollione: secure, strong, with the right blend of panache and arrogance. He managed to convey the ardour of a young soldier in love with Adalgisa, and his repentance in the finale was moving and emotional. He showed an old-fashioned style: he managed some (very few) tasteful sobs which came through as believable and truthful. Michele Pertusi sang Oroveso with great bel canto technique and seamless legato, his expertise compensating for any faults his voice may have acquired over the years.
Olivier Py's production blends multiple conceptual layers – some more successful than others, not all easily decipherable. The setting is transposed to mid-19th-century Milan, a time when Italian patriots were conspiring against Austrian rule. Simultaneously, a performance of Medea is being staged at La Scala, where Norma embodies Medea and Adalgisa becomes Glauce. The tragic love triangle unfolds outside the theatrical performance: Pollione is reimagined as the head of the Austrian garrison, while the Medea characters – all played by men wearing golden masks – serve as symbolic ‘doubles’, echoing the central drama. For instance, during Pollione’s cavatina, the Medea figures enact the dream he narrates. If Norma does embody some elements similar to Medea, making it the focus of the whole production seems excessive.
Oroveso and the chorus appear in late-19th-century costume, grounding the story further in a historical-political context. In Py’s version, Norma and Pollione do not perish on a pyre; instead, they are executed by the Italian patriots after their forbidden love and the existence of their children are revealed. Throughout the production, dancers remain on stage performing choreographic sequences that are, unfortunately, often distracting and creatively uninspired.
Py's production is not only confused and incoherent; it is, at times, outright irritating. It was emphatically rejected by the audience, although the singers were all warmly applauded (with the exception of a lone “boo” from the loggione directed at Rebeka, swiftly drowned out by cheers). Luisi received some measured criticism, but nothing excessive. However, when the production team took the stage, the response was overwhelmingly negative: a storm of boos erupted, so loud and relentless that La Scala lowered the curtain prematurely, cutting the curtain call short.
