Handel’s Partenope is often referred to as a “comic opera”, while in reality it contains both dramatic and comic elements. It is based on a libretto adapted from Silvio Stampiglia and tells the story of the love and war affairs of Partenope, founder and first queen of Naples. The plot is sufficiently silly: Partenope’s lover is Arsace; Armindo secretly admires her, and Emilio makes war against her to defend his land, only to fall in love with her at first sight. Then we have Rosmira, Arsace’s first love, who is pursuing him after he abandoned her, and reaches Naples disguised as a man, “Rrince Eurimene”, à la Bradamante in Alcina. Arsace recognises her, but she makes him swear not to tell anybody. The funny aspects come mainly from the character of Arsace who, far from being a true hero, is a silly boy with no strength of character, swaying between one woman and the other, declaring eternal love to whichever he is talking to at that moment.
With Les Arts Florissants, William Christie presented a heavily cut version of the opera (reduced to just over two hours) in a semi-staged production by Sophie Daneman. The stage resembled a chessboard, with large dice, all elements referring to games. The singers shared the stage with the orchestra, and sang sometimes in front, sometimes behind it, interacting with one another in an effective way. The cast was comprised of six elements from Les Jardin de voix, the academy for young singers of Les Arts Florissants, a first step in the career of stars of the calibre of Christophe Dumaux and Sonya Yoncheva. The young age of the singers, and the playful semi-production, gave the plot an aura of high-school drama. The characters often looked and acted like love-struck, hormone-flooded teenagers. This actually fitted the story quite well; besides Arsace’s shenanigans, Armindo’s shyness in confessing his love to Partenope, and his confiding in Rosmira/Eurimene, could have been about teenage love, and Partenope herself at times looked and acted more like a popular cheerleader than like a queen. This was, of course, due also (or mainly, perhaps) to Handel, who exploits the silliness of the plot and writes very witty parodies with exaggerated effects. Eurimene (Rosmira)’s aria “Io seguo sol fiero” is a perfect caricature of a “hunting” heroic aria, with the horns playing rambunctiously.
The six protagonists gave committed performances, and they all showed a very good command of Baroque style, with properly dazzling coloratura and great breath control. They all seemed to lack some projection, and, at times came out as weak in the middle register (it was so unusual to find the same fault in all singers that I even thought it may be due to my placement in the theatre, but the renowned acoustics of the KKL Concert Hall make this hypothesis improbable). The singers were more like instruments in the orchestra: less prominent, but more embedded in the ensemble, just one more instrument under Christie’s expert guidance. The result was a remarkable musical experience.
Countertenor Hugh Cutting (Arsace) displayed an impressive vocal colour, smooth and luminous, very easy on the high notes, and he reminded me of Jakub Józef Orliński. The other countertenor, Alberto Miguélez Rouco (Armindo), had a more typical countertenor voice, and gave a very good rendition of the shy, tender lover. Ana Vieira Leite, as Partenope, showed a beautiful soprano, with dark overtones, while Helen Charlston’s mezzo (Rosmira/Eurimene) was bronzed and mellow, albeit the role did seem a bit low for her. Tenor Jacob Lawrence, as Emilio, showed confidence in his top register, and a considerable funny bone in his characterisation of the over-confident, arrogant warrior. The cast was completed by Matthieu Walendzik, bass, as a convincing Ormonte, chief of Partenope’s guard.
The orchestra was spectacular. The strings were precise and emotional, the first violin marvellous in his solos (such as Arsace’s aria “Sento amor con novi dardi”), and the cellos constantly excellent, in particular in the pizzicato accompanying Partenope’s aria “Qual farfalletta”. The flute shone in Armindo’s aria “Nobil cor” and the continuo was superb throughout. Christie often left the musicians to themselves, supervising and ready to intervene, helping when needed, but letting them play and direct themselves, recognising their musicianship and skills. The orchestra seemed to always find different colours to support the various musical numbers; the battle scene was boisterous and exciting, with horns and trumpet, Arsace’s sleep intimate and mellow. The evening was a resounding success.
