How can we make a 19th-century peplum with druids of Gaul and Roman soldiers interesting to a contemporary audience? Let’s stage Norma as if it was a low-budget Game of Thrones episode shot in the nineties, with gaudy period costumes and lots of projected flames and fumes! Davide Livermore and his artistic crew must have thought this was a good idea and turned the comeback of Bellini’s masterpiece to the operatic stage of Madrid (after decades of neglect) into a tribute to class-B fantasy cinema, clumsy action scenes and movie goofs included. The result was a production as hollow as the giant dead oak tree that presided over the dark stage.
Not even the vague promise of Lucy Lawless doing a cameo as a Gaul warrior princess kept the interest alive in an otherwise forgettable production. Norma is a role that has been shaped, as no other has ever been, by the singer who created it, Giuditta Pasta, and the soprano who revived it in modern times, Maria Callas. Their unique personalities have somewhat cursed a role that requires an unclassifiable vocality. Sopranos must try to navigate their way between the solemn religious leader, the tormented sinner, the reluctant mother, the deceived lover, the tender friend and, finally, the expiatory victim. It may come as a surprise in a chiefly lyrical soprano, but Maria Agresta was only fully convincing as the latter, when she finally unbridled her voice and plunged into the vivid dramatism of the last scene.
The rest of her performance was limited by constant over-care, as if she was not sure about her voice’s ability to survive Bellini's merciless score, which resulted in an overall feeling of coldness and inexpressiveness (imprecise diction did not help either). Her timbre is beautiful and definitely has a personal touch, but sounded artificially darkened at times. Not exactly a technical virtuoso, her coloratura was generally far from convincing (she even avoided the repeat of “Ah bello a me ritorna”) and all the attempts at mezza voce lost colour and position. She sang, however, a more than correct “Casta diva” and a great “Mira o Norma”, where she perfectly matched her Adalgisa.
In an original break up from tradition, Norma’s true match is not her lover Pollione but Adalgisa. She plays the innocent Doppelgänger, a painful mirror of the past who is repeating the same mistakes that have led Norma into an unbearable situation. It is through their two wonderful duos that the plot advances and the ambivalence of Norma’s feelings towards her is one of the most interesting dramatic subtleties in Romantic opera. French mezzosoprano Karine Deshayes played a true protagonist and created a passionate and moving Adalgisa, thanks to her rich, creamy voice and her solid technique.