Mozart composed La clemenza di Tito in 1791, mere months before his untimely death, as a celebratory work for the coronation of Leopold II as King of Bohemia. The libretto, originally by Pietro Metastasio, was adapted by Caterino Mazzolà. It celebrates the Roman Emperor Titus Vespasianus, a subject set by dozens of composers in the 18th century.
At La Fenice, director Paul Curran transposes the action to the modern day. Gary McCann's set is an aseptic room in white and pale grey, reminiscent of a museum, adorned with Roman statues and reliefs. The entire drama unfolds within this space, with the characters in modern dress – vintage gowns and colourful suits. However, this modernisation serves no clear purpose beyond a vague suggestion of the continuity of power structures and human emotion across time.
In Act 2, following Sesto's treacherous attack on the Capitol and his attempted assassination of the Emperor, the set reveals the ruins of the Campidoglio. Tito makes his entrance on a hospital bed, complete with IV drip and monitors, a chilling echo of Peter Sellars and Teodor Currentzis' infamous Salzburg Festival production. As Tito's forgiveness ultimately restores peace, the ruins vanish and the sterile room is returned to its original state. A bland but ultimately harmless production.
The musical side of things, however, was considerably more enjoyable. Ivor Bolton opted for brisk tempi, delivering an energetic yet never self-indulgent interpretation. He struck a perfect balance between dramatic tension and formal elegance, resulting in a truly Classical reading of the score. The orchestra was in splendid form, producing a rich sound that remained respectful of the established tradition for early Classical music. The brass section deserves particular praise for its robust and majestic fanfares. Special recognition is also warranted for Bolton's own harpsichord continuo in the secco recitatives, Vincenzo Paci's exquisite clarinet in “Parto, parto” and Nicolas Palombarini's resonant basset horn in “Non più di fiori”.
Tito was sung by Daniel Behle, one of today's most accomplished Mozartian tenors. His performance was elegant, with delicate and stylish phrasing, and he demonstrated a powerful tenor voice in the middle register, though it turned slightly nasal in the upper range. While his stage presence was somewhat wooden, this choice effectively highlighted the character's Apolline wisdom, if at the expense of his emotional conflict. Behle saved his best for last, delivering a great performance of Tito's most difficult aria, "Se all'impero, amici Dei".
Anastasia Bartoli sang Vitellia, the scorned and vengeful Roman aristocrat. As usual, her voice splendidly defied Fach categorisation, boasting rich intensity across every register. Her powerful soprano produced high notes that felt like wild animals she was forcefully keeping in check, a technique that resulted in a few – very few – squeezed tones, but made her delivery tremendously exciting. Her middle and lower registers, showcased to great effect in “Non più di fiori”, were deep and unforced, giving authentic voice to Vitellia’s shame and remorse. Bartoli’s dramatic interpretation was superb; she was born to play the femme fatale.
It was Cecilia Molinari as Sesto who truly stole the show. With a smooth, warm mezzo-soprano that featured beautifully ringing high notes and exquisite phrasing, she demonstrated a masterful understanding of Mozartian style. She gave a vibrant life to the character's turbulent emotions and her rendition of “Parto, parto” was a definitive highlight. Molinari conveyed Sesto’s inner conflict with a focused composure that rendered his anguish profoundly moving. Combined with the perfect physique du rôle for the trouser part, her superb performance earned her a rightly enthusiastic and well-deserved ovation.
In the role of Annio, Nicolò Balducci displayed the very high register of a true sopranist countertenor. While impressive in its range, his timbre often seemed constricted and lacked variety, with some forced and acidic high notes. This perception might also stem from the customary casting of a female soprano, whose voice naturally provides a warmer and more harmonically complex colour for the part.
As Servilia, Francesca Aspromonte was delightful. She possesses a silvery, naturally high soprano that soared brilliantly through the theatre. Her portrayal captured the sweet naivety of the character perfectly. In “S’altro che lagrime”, she expressed both her desperation for her brother Sesto and her contempt for the unhelpful Vitellia. Domenico Apollonio completed the cast as Publio; while his bass was well projected and smooth, he seemed a bit out of his depth.
The Fenice chorus gave a masterful performance, singing with impeccable precision and nuanced dynamics although their impact was hindered by an unfortunate directorial choice at a key moment. Staging the chorus “Ah, nero tradimento” offstage at the conclusion of Act 1 all but ruined this magnificent ensemble, weakening the dramatic power of one of Mozart's finest finales.
