The Teatro Regio conjured an atmosphere of deception and depravity with a pairing of two one act operas set in a time and place characterized by the pervasiveness of Machiavellian intrigue – that of 16th century Florence. Zemlinsky's Eine Florentinische Tragödie and Puccini's Gianni Schicchi formed a diptych of dramatic contrasts, both of which were realized with a cohesive blend of sharp sets, exemplary playing and solid singing. The works were updated to the fin de siècle era, where writers like Baudelaire suggested that morality had degenerated and decayed, and Vittorio Borrelli's production had the audience constantly re-evaluating not only what is real and artifice, but what could be deemed virtue and vice.
Eine Florentinische Tragödie is an adaptation of an unfinished play by Oscar Wilde in which Simone, a wealthy merchant, lures his wife's unsuspecting lover to his death before, in a bizarre twist, the murder reawakens Bianca's desire for her husband. The curtains opened to a venereal prelude in the style of Richard Strauss to reveal a dark room bathed in a clinical light that felt like a dark Swedish drama. Slender shutters were flanked by towering mahogany bookshelves and, below, Bianca reclined seductively, clad in golden silk gown and kissing her lover Guido to a climax in Zemlinsky's free-flowing score.
Simone watches all of this unfold with his back turned to the audience, and is thus painfully aware of Bianca's infidelity from the start. This is a detail that differs from many productions, and it means that deception was at work as soon as Simone began to shower the prince in compliments and to tempt him with exquisite gifts.
Whilst Simone's motives were explicit throughout, those of the lovers were hard to pin down. They caress and fawn under Simone's nose, though on rare occasions an ill-defined tenderness is detectable in Bianca's dealings with her husband. But in one of her embraces with Guido, a full moon glides into view behind the shutters, bringing with it the notions of purity and artesian chastity. We catch ourselves wondering whether the lovers' bond is good and true and whether Simone is the flawed character instead. That Guido is in peril, though, is always clear and when Simone speaks to him of his inner turmoil the moon turns a deep red.
The final portion of the production was wrought with drama and, ultimately, surprises. Simone left the room and the lovers sang an erotic duet, Guido kissing Bianca's sprawling legs as she lay on a table, while Zemlinsky's lush score surged in silvery knots and Debussian splashes. Simone trudged into view behind the shutters, creating a disconcerting juxtaposition of images, and the ensuing sword fight led to Guido's murder, to screams from Bianca, though there was a suspicion that she was on her husband's side. In a feature in neither score nor play, Simone then strangled Bianca who hung limply from his hands in the glare of a broadening moon. This clever detail made sense of Wilde's improbable ending whilst ensuring that the piece remained tragic in relation to the Puccini. Mark S. Doss, in the role of Simone, had a steely, grounded voice that turned beautifully at the top, while Zoran Todorovich's Guido was bright and confident. Ángeles Blancas Gulín as Bianca often lacked core in the middle of her range, though her strong acting made her overall performance an excellent one.