Originally created for the Glyndebourne back in 2014, Tom Cairns' revelatory production is a Traviata for the ages. Revival director Laura Attridge has maintained the same commitment to simple, pared-down storytelling that makes it such an enduring success. The consistent, novelistic direction creates plenty of dynamic space in which the complexities of this heartbreaking and very modern drama can reveal themselves.
Hildegard Bechtler’s sumptuous design, as fresh, classic and eloquent as it was a decade ago, presents Violetta’s world of bright, young hedonism as the flip side of a Singer Sargent society portrait, with all that dramatic depth of contrast – the towering shadows and the slash of crimson centre stage – at once seductive and ominous. Bechtler has obviously kept her eye on Tatler’s society bash pages of late, judging by the well-chosen costume updates for the Glyndebourne chorus who, as ever, do a fabulous job of being the party everyone wants to be at, which is of course very much the point: this tragedy is as heartbreaking as it is irresistible.
Adam Hickox made an auspicious entrance to the pit as Principal Conductor of the Glyndebourne Sinfonia. Under his baton Verdi’s drama was given full scope in all its climactic extremes of contrast and thrilling detail. The deeply moving fragility of the prelude’s opening bars were soon contrasted with a brindisi at full tilt, and in “Amami, Alfredo” in Act 2 the heart nearly burst out of the score in a daringly sustained crescendo. A curiously over-tugged upper string sound in the prelude to Act 3 threatened to introduce a note of hysteria that was out of place in this otherwise perfectly calibrated performance. As Violetta bid her agonising farewell to Alfredo with the hope that he might one day find another young girl in the bloom of youth, the steady punctuation of funereal trumpets were a vivid reminder of Verdi's genius and that life – however beautiful – is shockingly brief. As the layers of Violetta’s finery were stripped away, so some of Verdi’s best-loved music revealed the layers of dramatic irony in one of opera’s most iconic roles.
Elisa Verzier, making her Glyndebourne debut in this revival, was astonishing. Physically slight, she commanded every second of the drama with a voice that began unassumingly before maturing as her character embraced her fate. Joining the party in the lavish society nightclub of Act 1, Verzier appeared heartbreakingly young, her voice captivating but so carefree at times that one or two phrases mid-register didn’t quite land as decisively as they might, although her pin-point coloratura was unleashed with infectious glee. But appropriately for a story so intensely focused on its heroine, it was in the opera’s first reflective moment that we saw – and heard – Violetta on her mettle. Asking Annina (sensitively played here by Georgia Mae Ellis) whether Alfredo could be the man she’s dreamt of, Verzier found a new, confidential timbre that opened the deeply private heart of this role like the first pages of a book. From here on in, Verzier was mesmerising. The pivotal confrontation with Alfredo’s father saw her drawing out every shade of irony from Violetta’s tragic situation. Verzier's voice intensified in focus and power as Violetta magnanimously embraced her fate, as if the disease itself was her refining fire.
Vocally tender, baritone Christian Federici’s sympathetic but businesslike Germont seemed a little lost physically, until he lashed out at a defiant Alfredo. Matteo Desole can certainly pack a punch volume-wise and though he didn’t have Verzier’s emotional range, his insouciant optimism was perfect for a young man about to find out just how much more there is to know about the world.
