The story was a popular one in Donizetti’s day, and it’s still in the history books on both sides of the Channel, kept fresh by Rodin’s 1889 sculpture “The burghers of Calais”. After a year of siege by the English King Edward III, the walls of Calais still hold strong, but the people are exhausted and starving. Eventually, a compromise is agreed: the people will be spared from general slaughter if they send six eminent citizens to their deaths.
Il assedio di Calais (The siege of Calais) opens in the English camp outside the city walls, with Edward railing against the intransigence of the defenders. It’s a good curtain raiser, with Edward sung excellently by Grant Doyle. His voice is expansive, full of bluster and accomplishes the bel canto goal of putting across character and expression while remaining beautiful in line and timbre. But the opera really comes to life when the camera switches to the inside of the city, in which Donizetti and librettist Salvatore Cammarano fashion a vivid portrait of the febrile atmosphere. Fear, hunger, anger, despair, mistrust of strangers, hope, love and solidarity combine in a potent brew; the ETO chorus may be relatively small but they sung their hearts out, immersing us into the daily life of the besieged.
Opera doesn’t usually give true marital love much of a look in, preferring the sighs and travails of the unrequited version. Fidelio is the only example that leaps to mind in which the standard repertoire truly celebrates the strength and beauty of a loving marriage. I can now add Il assedio di Calais to my mental list: the duet at the beginning of Act II between Aurelio and Leonora was heartfelt and supremely touching. Aurelio is a trouser role (there was a shortage of top class tenors in Naples when the opera was written). The duet was sung here by mezzo Catherine Carby and soprano Paula Sides, who achieved that magical soaring of blended voices that keeps you coming back to bel canto.
Another unusual feature of this opera is the role of Eustachio, the Mayor of Calais: here is an opera in which the baritone is a truly heroic figure, who is the principal figure on stage for a high proportion of the action. Eustachio is now an old man, but he is a true paterfamilias replete with the virtues of leadership, patriotism and humanity. Craig Smith brought weight and richness to the role, especially powerful in his lower register, always smooth and expressive.