Glimmerglass can take credit for the first performance ever in the United States of Donizetti’s L’assedio di Calais this past summer. However, Odyssey Opera has now gone one better, premiering the original three-act version with every note Donizetti wrote in 1836, including cabaletta repeats. The only editing involved the Act 3 ballet divertissement, which the composer himself eventually cut because it stifled the drama’s momentum. Gil Rose kept the two numbers Donizetti wrote “The Dance of the Scottish Prisoners” and “The Dance in Armor” but employed them as an entr’acte and discarded the two numbers by Antonio Vaccaro. Glimmerglass jettisoned the ballet music completely and created a hybrid, two-act version which, for example, retained Queen Isabella in the last scene but also included Eleanora’s rondo finale from a revision in which that role was cut.
L’assedio di Calais was the thirteenth opera composed for the Teatro San Carlo, following the previous year’s Lucia di Lammermoor. It was a deliberate attempt on Donizetti’s part to internationalize his style and attract the attention of the Opéra de Paris with its lucrative contracts, so he adopted French conventions of dramaturgy and opera composition, choosing a popular French subject with the requisite lieto fine and including a ballet. However, the story of the Burghers of Calais, preserved most notably in Froissart’s Chronicles, is one of honor, patriotism, and selfless sacrifice – unusual qualities to be at the center of the drama of a Donizetti opera. There is no love story, not even a leading tenor, but an intimate family drama revolving around fathers and sons where the solo aria takes second place to duets, trios, and ensembles. Lower voices, both male and female, dominate with Eustachio, a baritone, as the lead and the soprano, Eleanora, shorn of coloratura pyrotechnics, subordinate musically to the mezzo of her husband, Aurelio.
Even the first scene is unprecedented: after a seven-measure prelude, the curtain rises on a pantomime of Aurelio sneaking into the English camp, stealing food, then being discovered and manhandled by the soldiers, all played out to a forty-measure larghetto which precedes the soldiers’ chorus, in Odyssey’s production sung by the most sonorous group of ten men you’re ever likely to hear. They projected the weight and force of a group twice their size and literally set the tone for the rest of this very masculine opera.