A gloomy, dark Vespri siciliani at La Scala

I vespri siciliani is the first opera Verdi wrote after the “popular trilogy” (Rigoletto, Trovatore, Traviata); in the wake of his success, he received a commission from the Opéra de Paris for his first work in French. The opera, Les Vêpres siciliennes, respected many of the paradigms of the French grand opera style: great tableaux with soloists and chorus, a plot full of coups de théâtre, and a substantial ballet, in the third act. 

The plot is based on historic events. In Sicily, the ruling Germans were defeated by the French, in 1266. The French domination was brutal and resented by the Sicilian people, who revolted in 1282 and massacred every French citizen on the island, including their spouses and children. The signal for the revolution to start was the sound of the bells announcing vespers, the evening prayers. Eugène Scribe and Charles Duveyrier enriched the story with a love entanglement between the Duchess Elena (one of the organisers of the resistance movement against the French) and Arrigo, a young brave knight. Arrigo is shocked to find out he is the son of the villain, the French governor Montforte, who abducted and raped Arrigo’s mother many years before. Arrigo is torn between the instinct of kinship and his loyalty to the cause; the revolution against the French starts at the end of the opera. You just gotta love Verdi’s chutzpah – his first opera for Paris and he chooses a story where the French are the bad guys!

In Hugo de Ana’s new production for La Scala, the action is moved to World War 2 (which would make the allies the invaders of Sicily), with tanks and heavy artillery, the idea – perhaps – being that every invasion is as brutal as any other. The sets consist of black metal scaffolding, with panels opening and closing on a bare landscape. There are recognisable aesthetic choices: consistent tones of black and dark grey, the extras often frozen in a static tableau. The images are beautiful, although funereal; however, the lack of Personenregie makes the visual show static and monotonous. The singers seemed mostly left to their own devices, often parking and barking on the front of the stage. The production featured many recurrent tropes: refugees carrying suitcases, coffins as furniture, religious imagery with Southern Italian overtones. The two main characters from Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal – the crusader and Death – play chess at the end of the overture and show up in many other scenes, with Death triumphing centre-stage at the end, during the revolution. I understood the boos at the premiere, but, honestly, I didn’t dislike so much de Ana’s concept; it did not interfere with the music, and it was often beautiful to look at.

Under the baton of Fabio Luisi, the La Scala orchestra gave a rich, detailed, emotional reading of one of Verdi’s best scores. The splendid overture was rendered with passion and a beautiful, supple sound (the brass were marvellous). This is perhaps the first opera where Verdi consistently used one of his best tricks: changing the accompaniment every time a melody is heard again. Luisi highlighted such subtle, or bold, variations for a truly nuanced interpretation. There were several cuts, some more judicious (the never-ending “Four Seasons” ballet) than others (the introductory chorus to Elena’s boléro in Act 5). The La Scala chorus (prepared by Alberto Malazzi) confirmed its status as one of the best in the world; their performance was detailed, precise, full of pathos and great dynamics.

Marina Rebeka started somewhat subdued (my impression was that Elena's first aria “In alto mare” is often too low for her voice), but she grew during the evening, culminating in a wonderful “Mercé dilette amiche”, one Verdi’s hardest arias, where she showcased all the necessary ornamentations, acciaccature, trills and a splendid chromatic scale. She may have come across a bit cold and aloof at times, perhaps not the most passionate revolutionary, but she certainly had a very successful prise de rôle. Arrigo was Piero Pretti, who proved to be in great form. His tenor was bold and confident, the high notes luminous and precise, leading to a very convincing interpretation of the young, hot-headed hero. He also showed good taste in the most intimate, lyrical moments, with good mezza voce and tasteful phrasing.

Montforte was Luca Micheletti, whose baritone was strong and well projected, with an impressive breath technique. An actor and stage director, he used his know-how to give the most convincing dramatic interpretation of the evening. Verdi is very understanding with this ruthless criminal, giving him some of his best music to express his fatherly love, and Micheletti took every advantage of it. His duet with Pretti was perhaps the highlight of the evening. Procida, the head conspirator, was Simon Lim, who convinced with a powerful bass and a very careful, attentive emission and elegant phrasing.