Keen-eyed readers will recognise Bruno Ravella’s staging of Zoraida di Granata. Andrew Larkin reviewed it in Wexford last year but co-producing Donizetti Opera are giving it a significant festival twist. In the original 1822 version (seen in Wexford), the Moorish general Abenamet was written for tenor Amerigo Sbigoli, who died shortly before opening night. No tenor replacement was available, so Donizetti cut some numbers and adapted the role for a contralto. Two years later, he revised his opera to recast Abenamet as an en travesti role for contralto Rosmunda Pisaroni. It’s this 1824 version that is presented in Bergamo.
It’s a big revision – new arias for Zoraida, Abenamet and the king’s henchman Ali, plus two completely rewritten finales – involving about an hour of new music, bringing the running time to 3 hours and 40 minutes (including an interval). The festival is clearly not afraid of a 23:40 finish although many fled at the curtain to dash to catch the funicular that runs down from the Città Alta.
The basis of the plot is simple. Almuzir, the despotic King of Granada, wants to marry Zoraida, daughter of the king he has usurped, but she is in love with Abenamet. Almuzir commands his rival to lead the army into battle with the Spanish, but frames him so that their flag falls into enemy hands. When Zoraida agrees to marry Almuzir, the imprisoned Abenamet is freed and exiled, but turns up at the eleventh hour to save the day.
Ravella transfers the action to the present, unfussily staged in Gary McCann’s handsome set of a bombed out Moorish palace. Almuzir and Ali are sharp suited, Zoraida is dressed in blue. A shattered stained glass window hovers over the rubble, replaced by a new window as order is restored at the inevitable happy ending. Daniele Naldi’s lighting is evocative.
The 1824 version places much greater emphasis on Abenamet, entirely worth it when the role was so well sung here by Cecilia Molinari. Her light, lithe mezzo is very stylish, with a warm flutter to her vibrato and she sang with great distinction, especially in the impressive prison scene where Abenamet is unchained by Almuzir on condition that he flees.
As he did in Wexford, Konu Kim sang the dastardly Almuzir. His bright, edgy tenor rang out resoundingly in the 1300-seater house, with crowd-pleasing stratospheric high notes delivered from a table top in Act 2 as he sought vengeance against Zoraida for betraying him. Bass Valerio Marelli, student of the Bottega Donizetti, was superb as Ali, firm-toned and resolute. Lilla Takács, another workshop member, sang Ines, Zoraida’s confidante, stylishly.
Czech soprano Zuzana Marková sang the title role, with plenty of coloratura acrobatics in her demanding entrance aria, but a slightly brittle tone. She was more at ease in her plaintive Act 2 aria, “Rose, che un dì spiegaste”, although here she was let down by the parched tone of the concertmaster in the violin obbligato. This was part of a wider problem with the orchestra, the period instrument Gli Originali, conducted by Albrto Zanardi. Too often woodwind intonation was awry and the string sound was paper-thin. However the male chorus – once again the Coro dell'Accademia Teatro alla Scala – sang with great commitment as the Moorish troops.
An effective staging of a lengthy Donizetti rarity, sung with great commitment.
Mark's press trip was funded by the Fondazione Donizetti
