Alzira, Verdi’s eighth opera, is something of a discarded child within his canon, not least because of Verdi’s own dismissal of it as “proprio brutta” (really ugly) after it was poorly received both in Naples and Rome. Perhaps Verdi was stung by a blot on an otherwise successful career: on the basis of last night’s concert performance by Chelsea Opera Group, the score has plenty to commend it.
The Voltaire play on which Alzira is based was intended, like many of Voltaire’s works, to explore the differences between true humane goodness and the surface gloss of Christian religiosity: set in the Peru of the conquistadors, both Spaniards and Incas show brutality and nobility at different times. Salvatore Cammarano’s libretto starts out somewhat in tune with this, but degenerates rapidly into a standard operatic love triangle: the Spaniard Gusmano, a fine baritone villain, will resort to all possible abuses of power to wrest the beautiful Inca princess Alzira from her betrothed (dramatic tenor) Zamoro. You can think of it as a prototype for Cammarano and Verdi’s subsequent and far more enduring collaboration Il Trovatore, minus the gypsy element and plus a sympathetic older generation consisting of Gusmano and Zamoro’s parents, who join in some stirring ensemble pieces.
This is the second time in three days I’ve seen conductor Gianluca Marcianò, and the second time I’ve been really impressed. The man is a fireball on the podium, bursting with energy. His legs seem on springs as he often dances to the music with an enthusiasm that’s clearly infectious; the orchestra responds with verve and bright colours – and yet there’s clearly an excellent element of control, with tempi never feeling rushed, the music never getting too loud and brash. Tbilisi State Opera, where Marciano is Musical Director, may not be the best known company in Europe, but for me, they’ve made a real find.
This being a concert performance, there’s no staging or acting to worry about, so it’s possible for singers to focus entirely on musicality and delivery of the text. Mark Holland gave a sterling performance as the villainous Gusmano, a Verdi baritone role very much in the mould of Trovatore’s Count di Luna, with an appropriately dark voice colour and a way of always making you feel that there were plenty of reserves of strength behind what you were hearing. As the heroic Zamoro, Mario Sofroniou sang the lyrical numbers attractively, with a pleasant, clear voice which never sounded strained. It was a thoroughly professional performance, albeit lacking in that sense of risk-taking abandon which adds real excitement to a Verdian tenor part: you want a Verdi tenor to be just a little closer to the edge of what his voice can do. The title role isn’t an especially rewarding part – Alzira does little except sing at how unhappy she is to be passed around as a chattel/how happy she is to be united with Zamoro – but Majella Cullagh sounded great, with plenty of power, plenty of warmth and some real grace in some of her phrasing.