The great thrill of the Wexford Festival Opera is in plucking a work from obscurity and seeing if it can rise, phoenix-like from the ashes and soar back into the operatic canon. This year, the festival opened with Pietro Mascagni’s Le maschere, an opera written in homage to Rossini and the traditions of opera buffa and commedia dell’arte.
The opera’s clunky libretto, penned by Luigi Illica, offers little in terms of originality. The plot revolves around Florindo and Rosaura, whose romance is thwarted by her father’s desire to marry her off to the illustrious Captain Spaventa. Thanks to a little meddling from the amiable Brighella and a secret powder, the wedding is averted, leading the father to concede on the condition that an heir is produced in nine months. So far so clichéd. Musically, Le maschere presents a charming yet erratic palette, at times echoing Rossini's playful rhythmic busyness, at others veering into Puccini's lush romanticism. At its most egregious it has all the subtlety of a marching band.
Director Stefano Ricci’s vision reinterprets this narrative within a playful, metatheatrical framework, depicting a luxurious wellness centre where characters shed their external façades. Facials and manicures may beautify outer appearances but the interior is laid bare for good or ill. Giocadio, portrayed with flair by actor Peter McCamley, acts as the narrating psychoanalyst who guides the audience through proceedings in the prologue. Unfortunately, the promise of deeper character development is unfulfilled; instead we are left with the same pale, stereotyped characters.
Ricci's production is undeniably amusing, with scenes like Rosaura attempting to simulate tears to soften Spaventa’s heart and the chaotic powder-induced frenzy delivering genuine laughs. However, the awkward costume change on stage from their stock commedia dell'arte figures into bathrobes at the beginning and ending of the opera is distracting visually and musically. No one can sing of their best while doing up their doublets. The opening prologue, which attempts to clarify the opera's concept, could happily be cut to alleviate the excessive running time of 150 minutes.
The set designs by Ricci and Eleonora de Leo are effective and at times highly original. I particularly liked the rectangle above the wellness sign which functions as a mirror for the characters to “prepare a face for the faces that they meet” (TS Eliot) but one that we could look through as well. The set for the spa has all the trappings of luxury one would expect in such places: giant bamboo in the background, luxuriant grasses alongside the more traditional massage tables, baths and loungers. The main challenge for costume designer Gianluca Sbicca is presumably to find a sufficient number of bathrobes for the entire cast. The garb of the commedia dell’arte characters are a suitable kaleidoscope of colours while the suits the characters don and doff at regular intervals are eye-catching and representative of their individual roles.
Musically, the cast excelled. Lavina Bini shone as Rosaura, her golden soprano infusing each note with emotion. Tenor Andrew Morstein, while not possessing a particularly large voice, imbued Florindo with passion and intensity. Soprano Ioana Constantin Pipelea (Columbina) was a brilliant match as personal assistant to her boss, Rosaura. At once coquettish, friendly and sincere, she charmed her way round the stage. Tenor Gillen Munguia as Brighella offered a robust bel canto presence. These four characters were frequently heard as a quartet and possessed excellent comic timing as they plotted to stop the impending nuptials.
As Tartaglia, Giorgio Caoduro was a scene stealer; his comically stuttering delivery belied the sweet heft of his baritone voice. Once he drank Brighella’s powder his patter speech was done at impressive breakneck speed. Mariano Orozco as Pantalone and Benoit Joseph Meier as the Captain’s assistant provided further vocal and theatrical highlights.
The chorus of WFO sang with great passion and enthusiasm all evening long. Holding it together in the pit was conductor Francesco Cilluffo, who directed the WFO Orchestra with terrific energy, delivering a vibrant performance, although some exposed violin passages revealed brief intonation issues.
Andrew's trip to Wexford was partially funded by Wexford Festival Opera.