Forget Wolf Hall or The Other Boleyn Girl. In the 19th century, Italians also loved a slice of Tudor history, none more so than Gaetano Donizetti who composed four operas based on its royal intrigues: Anna Bolena, Maria Stuarda, Il castello di Kenilworth and Roberto Devereux. It is the latter – a tragedia lirica love triangle featuring Queen Elizabeth I’s favourite, Robert Devereux, who faces execution for high treason – that was chosen to open the tenth Donizetti Festival in Bergamo, the composer’s hometown, in the theatre named after him.
In Stephen Langridge’s production, Hans Holbein’s The Ambassadors comes to mind, a double portrait painted in 1533 which features a still life of meticulously arranged symbolic objects: two globes, a quadrant, a hymnbook, a lute with a broken string and – most famously – a skull rendered in anamorphic perspective. Here, Langridge arranges a table at the stage’s edge, draped in silk: books, flowers, candles, an hourglass, quill pens… and a skull.
Symbolism is laid on with a trowel in a hugely enjoyable way: extracts from Robert’s letters and poems are chalked across the black set in video projection; the queen uses a quill to sign his death warrant; hourglasses proliferate on stage as time runs out, both for Roberto and his two loves, Elisabetta and Sara, Duchess of Nottingham.
Designer Katie Davenport runs riot in the costume department, Tudorbethan dress given vibrant shots of colour, including Elisabetta’s gown which features a print of these still life objects. Wearing that same gown is the figure of death – a skeleton, operated by two puppeteers – who haunts and taunts Elisabetta, dancing with a younger double of Roberto, even riding him on a giant red bed as the death warrant is signed. Has Tudor history ever been so gloriously gothic?
The set’s neon frame is at times blindingly bright, necessarily so to effect scene changes without a drop curtain, but making it hard for the eyes to read the surtitles.
Musically, it was an equally splendid evening to open the festival. Music Director Riccardo Frizza has chosen Julia Lockhart’s recent critical edition of the score which adheres closely to the 1837 premiere at the Teatro San Carlo in Naples, meaning there’s no overture, with its anachronistic God Save the Queen reference, which Donizetti added for Paris a year later. Frizza is excellent in bel canto opera and chose tempi that moved the action forwards while still allowing his cast breathing space. The Orchestra Donizetti Opera played with character and verve, particularly the woodwinds.
Although the opera is titled Roberto Devereux, the chief protagonist is Elisabetta, sung here by bel canto specialist Jessica Pratt. Her soprano is on the lighter side – think Edita Gruberova or Mariella Devia (high praise) – but her agility and pinpoint accuracy in the upper reaches is exceptional. Here, she also displayed a venomous chest register when signing Roberto’s death warrant and her challenging final scena was wonderfully sung, especially “Quel sangue versato” (That spilled blood rises to heaven) as the horrified queen calls for justice.
In the non-protagonist title role, John Osborn was his usual stylish self, his supple tenor in fine fettle, phrasing intelligently in his prison scene aria “Come uno spirto angelico”. Simone Piazzola sang a robust Duke of Nottingham. His velvety baritone has taken on a grainy quality since I last heard him, but it’s still a powerful instrument and his portrayal of the nobleman who discovers his best friend has betrayed him with his wife was vividly acted.
As Nottingham’s wife, Raffaella Lupinacci was outstanding. Her opening aria, one of the score’s few uninspiring moments, didn’t really give her much scope for drama, although Langridge’s decision to depict Sara as heavily pregnant adds an interesting dimension, but the duet with Roberto that closes Act 1 was superb, as was her scene with a vengeful Nottingham where sparks flew. Lupinacci styles herself as a mezzo, but the role’s tessitura is high and her top notes were strong and fiery.
Minor roles – Lord Cecil, Walter Raleigh – were well taken and the youthful chorus, from the Accademia Teatro alla Scala, sang with vigour, their acting animated, even though often appearing only from the ruff up in court galleries.
A performance – and production – as stylish and as enjoyable as this could be enough to convince me that Devereux is possibly – don’t tell Anna Bolena – the finest of Donizetti’s Tudor operas.
Mark's press trip was funded by the Fondazione Donizetti
