Justin Way's meta Norma in Naples turns Druid revolt into Italian insurrection

It seems easy for a director to stage one of the purest examples of Romantic melodrama. Norma, like most of them, is about troubled love in the eternal dilemma between heart and duty, within a context of belligerence between opposing factions (Gauls and Romans in Felice Romani’s libretto). To render all of this exciting, Bellini and his pulsating music alone would be enough, as the stage action should come naturally. But there is always a director who enriches – or complicates – matters, here the Australian Justin Way who offers us yet another variant of a classic dramaturgical convention: the “theatre within the theatre”. Except that here you cannot understand the director’s idea unless you read his programme note first because, until Act 2, it’s not very clear where all this is going.

Way moves the main action to 1831, the year of the premiere of Norma at La Scala, during the Habsburg occupation of Milan. When Oroveso incites the Druids to revolt, we see Pollione and Flavio in Austrian officers’ uniforms observing the scene from what appears to be an opera box. The thread unravels and finally we understand that these are rehearsals and the Druids on stage are also Milanese patriots determined to oust their occupiers. We learn that the singer who is playing Norma is in love with an Austrian officer with whom she has secretly had two children. The invaders are no longer just the Romans, but also the Austrians who occupy Italy. The different temporal planes intersect and become confused.

However, it must be said that even if it lacks clarity, Way’s staging manages to convey the essence of the opera, not only thanks to Bellini’s score but also to Nicolás Fischtel’s costumes and Charles Edwards’ sets, so much so that, by the end, the square is circled and you emerge from the opera house satisfied. The scenography is halfway between forest, rocks and druid rituals on one side, a theatre with dressing rooms on the other. The final scene provides Way’s most original touch, as the canvases suddenly fall to show the opera house in flames. Oroveso and the chorus rush off stage while Norma and Pollione enter the burning building. 

The role of Norma was taken by Anna Pirozzi who in “Casta Diva”, one of opera’s most wonderful arias, did not make hearts beat, lacking some vocal breadth and musicality, and with vibrato too pronounced, her vocal line put to the test by the long phrases. But Pirozzi soon got back on track and reached the high levels expected from her. Freddie De Tommaso’s Pollione sometimes dipped towards baritenor territory and was completely absorbed by his character, showing off a noble bearing, although his characterisation of the Austrian officer was somewhat exaggerated. However, in the trio or in his clashes with Norma, he maintained good vocal and acting credibility. 

Ekaterina Gubanova’s Adalgisa was perfectly correct, confident in the messa di voce but a little weak in her lowest notes. She was also vocally prominent in the duet in which Norma should maintain the vocal and dramatic advantage. Alexander Tsymbalyuk conveyed Oroveso’s solemnity a little too much, but his deep, dark resounding bass embodied the character well. Veronica Marini (Clotilde) and Giorgi Guliashvili (Flavio) completed the cast with honour in their secondary roles.

Lorenzo Passerini’s was thunderous in the overture, lacking depth. His conducting appeared limited to being pleased with the bel canto melodic lines, as he did not highlight the colours and dynamics and the overall “restlessness” of the score. Rather than bringing out emotions from the orchestra, he provided a mere accompaniment to the voices. But the San Carlo chorus maintained its high standard, especially the male section which are utilised most in this opera.