At a Whitsun Festival celebrating Venice, it was no surprise that Antonio Vivaldi took centre stage with Hotel Metamorphosis – a pasticcio weaving together his most famous arias to tell five different tales from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. The pasticcio, a form popular in the 18th century, was a collection of musical numbers drawn from various works, sometimes by multiple composers, adapted to fit a new, often fanciful storyline. For composers, it was an effective way to broaden the reach of their music. As conductor Gianluca Capuano notes in the programme, this production also aims to make Vivaldi’s vocal works, which lie outside the standard operatic repertoire, more accessible to modern audiences. By assembling his finest arias and operatic highlights into a pasticcio, the performance offers a compelling introduction to his artistry.
The concept may bring to mind jukebox musicals like Mamma Mia!, lending it a somewhat lighthearted feel. Yet the choice of Ovid’s timeless myths as the narrative framework, coupled with the exceptional musical execution, elevated this production into something far more engaging and sophisticated. Director Barrie Kosky’s unifying concept – staging each myth in the same anonymous hotel room – created a brilliant paradox: the sterile environment heightened the timeless humanity of Ovid’s characters. Stage actress Angela Winkler’s world-weary Orpheus served as narrator, her spoken interludes bridging musical numbers with haunting gravitas.
The prologue featured Cecilia Bartoli as Eurydice, vanishing before Orpheus’ eyes as she sang “Sol da te, mio dolce amore" from Orlando furioso – her performance heightened by a dazzling flauto traverso obbligato (Jean-Marc Goujon). Next, we encountered Pygmalion – reimagined here as an aging, socially awkward nerd (countertenor Philippe Jaroussky) who lives with a life-sized doll, treating her as a real woman. Kosky’s clever transposition of the myth – from a sculptor besotted with his statue to a middle-aged "incel" infatuated with his synthetic companion – was handled with a deft, light touch, proving remarkably effective.
It was a delight to hear Jaroussky return to his natural habitat – Vivaldi’s music – where his interpretation did full justice to the score. While his voice showed some strain in the uppermost register, his artistry and impeccable technique more than compensated, allowing him to navigate the challenges with characteristic mastery.
Arachne, the weaver whose artistry was so extraordinary it provoked Minerva’s jealousy, is reimagined here as a modern-day diva, played with delicious irony by Bartoli. Surrounded by mobs of adoring fans clamouring for autographs and selfies, swarmed by journalists vying for her attention, she revels in the spotlight, playfully flirting with her audience while luxuriating in their devotion. Few artists can skewer their own celebrity with such self-aware wit, one of Bartoli’s most disarming charms. Kosky cleverly updated the myth, transforming Arachne into a cutting-edge visual artist who employs AI, with mesmerising video work by rocafilm. The climactic artistic duel between Arachne and Minerva unfolds through two furore arias: Bartoli dazzled in “Armatae face et anguibus” from Juditha triumphans, while her rival, mezzo Nadezhda Karyazina, more than held her own with “Se lento ancora il fulmine” from Argippo, delivered with a burnished, bronze-toned mezzo and impeccable coloratura.
The third story introduced Myrrha, who falls into forbidden love with her father, deceives him into an incestuous union, and flees pregnant and ashamed – until the gods "mercifully" transform her into a tree. It's a thinly veiled attempt to displace the blame for taboo desires onto women, absolving men and gods alike. Lea Desandre delivered a tour de force, taking on two of Bartoli’s signature showpieces: “Agitata da due venti” from La Griselda and “Anderò, volerò, griderò” from Ercole sul Termodonte. Her coloratura was impeccable, her mezzo luminous in the upper register, with a robust, velvety middle voice that anchored even the most virtuosic passages.
Jaroussky then assumed the role of Narcissus, lost in love with his own reflection. His rendition of “Gemo in un punto e fremo” from L’Olimpiade was a masterclass in lyrical introspection, undoubtedly one of the evening’s most spellbinding moments. The finale returned to Eurydice in Hades, where Bartoli’s "Sposa son disprezzata" (Geminiano Giacomelli) and "Gelido in ogni vena" (Farnace) achieved shattering dramatic intensity. Her trademark filati became ghostly whispers between volcanic outbursts, embodying the character’s fractured psyche. The closing image – Orpheus dismembered by Maenads, his shade reuniting with Eurydice in eternal darkness – landed with devastating poetic force.
Capuano and Les Musiciens du Prince delivered a masterful, vibrant interpretation of Vivaldi’s score, whether in their sensitive accompaniment of soloists, the sparkling instrumental interludes drawn from Vivaldi’s concertos, or the powerful choral passages, where Il Canto d’Orfeo distinguished itself as one of the production’s most outstanding performers. The entire creative team was met with thunderous applause: a fitting tribute to their extraordinary musical achievement and the remarkable feat of breathing life into what is, in nearly every sense, an entirely new work. Viva Vivaldi!
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