Giacomo Puccini's Il trittico often lives somewhat in the shadows of the opera repertoire, but this summer, a new production was on the programme at Salzburg Festival. Direction was entrusted to Christof Loy, whose staging could best be described as unobtrusive. The director stuck meticulously to the libretto and did not offer much in the way of new interpretation; however, his direction of the actors was all the more convincing, with every character, down to the smallest role, appearing nuanced and well-rounded. The set by Étienne Pluss illustrated the action in a pared down visual style: a bare bedroom for Gianni Schicchi, a boat and some lanterns for Il tabarro, and finally a monastic room with a few tables for Suor Angelica. These sets made the production look very traditional despite the modern costumes. But in any case, one thing eclipsed everything else: Asmik Grigorian came, she sang and she conquered – and did so in all three operas. Their usual order was changed, so that the cheerful part of the evening came first.
As Lauretta, Grigorian was responsible for the triptych's biggest hit in the shape of “O mio babbino caro”. Her timbre was a touch harsh for the aria's sweetness and the performance might have benefited from being less dramatic and more knowing. But anyway, the comedy was provided by others – most notably Misha Kiria, who visibly enjoyed playing Gianni Schicchi, who used his voice smoothly and painted the role in colours that were both cunning and likeable. Singing Rinuccio, Alexey Neklyudov's tenor voice was warm-toned and mellifluous tenor voice, but he struggled somewhat with the volume and was not always able to overcome the orchestral waves. Among the pack of pursuers of the inheritance, Scott Wilde stood out as the dignified Simone with a sonorous bass, as did Enkelejda Shkosa as the shrill and bitter Zita and Caterina Piva, who gave a velvety timbre and excellent comedic timing as Ciesca. The ensemble worked well together, the gags were well landed and not overdone. It made for a highly entertaining start to the evening.
The second half of the performance saw a dramatic rather than a comic turn of events with Il tabarro, in which Asmik Grigorian, singing Giorgetta, appeared to be much more in her element. She used vocal colour to create a finely crafted escalation of the drama: the initial melancholy and yearning steadily disappeared from her soprano, giving way to pure frustration at her situation in life. At her side, Roman Burdenko initially gave the impression of being a rather indifferent Michele, with little emotion in his voice, which made for an especially contrast to the sunny, shimmering timbres that he employed in the story of the child, the coat and happier times. Joshua Guerrero gave a powerful and impetuous performance as Luigi; however, he used his voice in a rather undistinguished way, relying mainly on forte and a secure high register – an effective combination that would have benefited from a little more nuance. Once again, the small roles were well cast, each with their own tragic stories contributing to the depressing mood of this opera.
Although the first two works left little to be desired, the third catapulted the evening into the realms of the spectacular. From the start, Giulia Semenzato stood out from the nuns, impressing in the role of Suor Genovieffa with an angelic soprano and elegant legato. Karita Mattila dazzled as the only secular character, exuding captivating stage presence and vocal frostiness as the Zia Principessa. Ultimately, however, all eyes and ears were fixed on only one performer, namely Grigorian as Suor Angelica. And the way she shaped this role was nothing short of magnificent. She floated her soprano on a bed of delicate pianissimi, using dull colours to illustrate the character's resignation, but also allowing her voice to shimmer with hope. She reacted to the news of her child's death with a scream of pure desperation, combined perfect vocal control with great emotion in the aria “Senza mamma”, and finally pleaded poignantly for heavenly mercy. The fact that Grigorian is also a gifted performer who is not afraid to immerse herself in a role imbued the evening with intensity and left the audience traumatised, in the best possible way.
Franz Welser-Möst and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, playing at the top of their game, succeeded in gently freeing Puccini from excessive sugar-coating, without robbing the music of its umami. The fake tears of Gianni Schicchi's greedy relatives were succinctly accentuated, but the score's grand arcs also sounded voluptuous, as well as awakening wanderlust for Florence. The orchestra shimmered atmospherically during Il tabarro, constantly shifting between dark and wistful moments. Then, without crossing the fine line into kitsch, the emotional onslaught began in the pit with Suor Angelica – so anyone who had not already been moved to tears by Asmik Grigorian was brought to the edge of crying by the heart-wrenching sounds of the strings pleading for redemption.
Translated from German by David Karlin
