Take one hapless but lovable hero, one capricious but ultimately vulnerable heroine, a doctor and an army officer straight out of commedia dell’arte, a couple of basso buffo patter songs, at least one memorable romantic ballad, and stir the lot into a good lashing of boisterous Italian music with a sprinkling of furtive tears. Donizetti’s formula for L’Elisir d’Amore may not have made all the girls fall at his feet, it did bring him money and enduring fame beyond even the wildest predictions that could have been made by the quack Dr. Dulcamara.
L’Elisir d’Amore has never really fallen out of favour since its première in 1832, and something about its uncomplicated charm seems to inspire opera directors: the productions I’ve seen have all been quite different in setting, but all have been thoroughly entertaining. Laurent Pelly’s 2007 production, however, getting its second revival at Covent Garden this season, tops the lot.
For the first and last thirds of the opera, set designer Chantal Thomas creates a giant pile of haystacks on an Italian farm of the 1950s. This gives way to an open area next to farm buildings in front of a diorama of cornfields stretching out into the distance. Villagers ride on bikes and scooters around a main road which serves for Dulcamara’s arrival in an enormous truck and for a drunken Nemorino to arrive on his tractor, which he crashes spectacularly into a lamppost. The fire curtain is a work of art in itself, covered with 1950s style ads for Dulcamara’s various pills, lotions and potions, and Pelly’s delightful costumes complete the picture. Revival director Daniel Dooner’s attention to detail is noticeable, from the barcarole sequence in which Belcore puts his army cap on backwards and mimes rowing a gondola (to be shushed by Adina, who realises how ridiculous he looks) to Nemorino fishing out straw from various bits of Adina’s clothing as they return to the stage for the finale from their proverbial roll in the hay.
All of the four main singers were big stars, either established or up-and-coming. Two of them, however, weren’t necessarily obvious choices for opera buffa. Roberto Alagna (as Nemorino) and Fabio Maria Capitanucci (as Sergeant Belcore) both have fine, strong and musical voices and act well, but both seemed more comfortable singing the dramatic parts of their roles, rather than trying to infect their musical lines with bubbling gaiety. We’re used to hearing Nemorino sung by a lighter, more agile voice than Alagna’s, so the part sounded different from how it often does. However, I’m not going to quarrel with his rendering of Una furtiva lagrima or his other big arias: he has all the notes and didn’t sound as forced as you might have expected from a tenor who made his name singing more dramatic repertoire.