Impassioned rendition of Tutino's Two Women at Wexford Festival Opera

Rarely does art imitate life so immediately, but recently composed opera La Ciociara (known as Two Women in English) by Marco Tutino seems to speak with direct relevance on the horrors of the conflict happening in the Middle East. Premiered in San Francisco in 2015, this opera is a darkly tragic work of two women trying to survive the horrors of war with a moving score. Under Rosetta Cucchi’s sensitive direction, coupled with a cast of sterling soloists, this makes a truly compelling case for Tutino's opera.

In keeping with Wexford Festival Opera's theme of “Women and War” this year, the work easily passes the Brechdel test of gender bias. The opera is an adaptation of Alberto Moravia's 1958 novel of the same, which was made into a film starring Sophia Loren in 1960.

It tells the story of Cesira, a widow, (Na’ama Goldman) and her adolescent daughter Rosetta (Jade Phoenix) as they flee Rome during World War 2 in search of safety in the countryside of Ciocciara. They are aided by Giovanni (Devid Cecconi), a black market profiteer whom Cesira knows from Rome, but he unceremoniously propositions then assaults her within the opera's opening minutes. In the village of Sant'Eufemia, both mother and daughter fall in love with Michele (Leonardo Caimi), an intellectual and pacifist. Giovanni, now a Nazi collaborator, reappears and proceeds to have Michele captured and later killed. At the same time, Cesira and Rosetta are raped by Moroccan soldiers serving in the French army. The traumatic experience causes Rosetta to distance herself from her mother. When Sant'Eufemia is liberated by the Allies, Giovanni, now working with the Americans, falsely claims to have assisted an American airman. However, Buckley contradicts him, leading to Giovanni's capture as a Nazi collaborator and the revelation of Michele's death. The opera ends with mother and daughter reconnecting emotionally.

Tutino draws inspiration from the operatic tradition of Puccini, with echoes of Tosca and La bohème. The character of Giovanni has been greatly expanded from the book and film to excellent dramatic effect. At the start, he appears a nasty individual, but with each subsequent appearance we see the evolution of his character into a highly manipulative, abusive man, gaining power and status with each move, killing Michele with impunity.

Tiziano Santi's sets are simple but efficient. Conceived as if the film director Vittorio di Sica was viewing his own work, the 1940s décor of a Roman shop, a bar in Ciociara, a church and a prison encapsulate the wartorn atmosphere, while the insertion of black and white film footage during orchestral interludes is seamlessly done and helps convey effectively the distance travelled by the two women.

Goldman was nothing short of magnificent as Cesira. A consummate actress, she conveyed the sorrow and heartbreak that she suffers throughout the opera in a way that was both utterly believable and natural. Her voice grew in strength and confidence throughout the first act and by the time she came to her post-violation scene, she unfurled the delicate tendrils of the melody in a way that was heartrending. The subsequent cri de cœur were shot through with smouldering passion.

A worthy artistic match for Goldman, Phoenix shone with an exquisite soprano as Rosetta. The pearly high notes of her prayer Padre Nostro was sung with touching simplicity, while her silent agony post-rape was painful to witness. Cecconi delivered a searing Giovanni, all too believable, bullying his way up the greasy pole. His baritone rang out with impassioned cruelty, not least when he was toying with Michele’s life. The sweet heft of Leonardo Caimi’s tenor melded beautifully as Michele in his moments with Goldman, sparking a real chemistry between them.

The WFO Chorus were a worthy accompaniment to the excellent soloists, whether lamenting the horrors of war or dancing carefree once the war is over. Wexford regular Francesco Cilluffo did a magnificent job conducting the orchestra, keeping the tension going in Tutino's relentlessly impassioned score.