La Cenerentola

 

 

La Cenerentola by Gioachino Rossini is the non-magical operatic version of the popular rags to riches story of Cinderella. Cenerentola (literally translated as girl of the cinders) is actually named Angelina, the terribly treated step-daughter of Baron Don Magnifico who has used the inheritance after the death of her birth mother. Don Magnifico and his two spoiled daughters, in hopes of replenishing their monetary funds, plan on wooing the local prince who, as chance may have it, must immediately marry or lose his title.

  After the runaway success of The Barber of Seville the previous year, the 25 year old Rossini struck gold again with La Cenerentola first performed in January of 1817. The Barber of Seville and La Cenerentola are quite similar in nature. Although the latter is referred to as a drama giocoso, both are Opera Buffo stories that revolve around a young girl metaphorically in shackles looking to change her life for the better. The main difference between the characters of Rosina and Cenerentola’s Angelina, created by mezzo-soprano Geltrude Righetti, seems to be their demeanor. Rosina is more proactive in freeing herself from the walls of Bartolo’s will in pursuit of her unknown suitor, while Cenerentola daydreams of a better life only to unwittingly procure her wants as the result of a stranger’s generous disposition.

In my reviews I normally begin with the singers in attempt to emphasize the point the opera’s first priority is singing, but this time I would like to start with the orchestra; more specifically the conductor of the production, Sir Andrew Davis. In the past I have expressed my opinion that the orchestra of the Lyric Opera is world class and consistently in top form. With the 2015-16 season already nearing its third production, I cannot reiterate that claim due to the lackadaisical attention of the conductors, Sir Andrew Davis the most guilty. I have commented in past reviews at an opera house the seats over 3,500 conductors need to be hypersensitive to the dynamics of the orchestra and cheat towards a softer volume so as not to drown out the singers, with Sir Andrew Davis being the main culprit of criticism. He did nothing, but strengthen my opinion with this most recent performance. In an opera like La Cenerentola, the singers often have fast moving melodic lines that cross and intertwine with other singers, a staple of Bel Canto opera that Rossini was known for. There are also many sections of rhythmic based singing known as “Patter” which involves a lot of words and articulation of consonants. It is difficult for a singer to generate a great deal of volume in these types of fast moving songs and an orchestra, if not reined in by the conductor, can drown out the vocal lines quite easily. This is exactly what happened in the performance of La Cenerentola, along with a lack of coordination between the orchestra and singers. This responsibility lies at the feet of the conductor. Sir Andrew Davis appeared to be marking time and rarely looking up at the singers, an integral part of the conducting responsibilities for an opera production. At one point a set of mirrored doors were on stage allowing the audience to glimpse the conductor head on. Rarely if ever did Sir Andrew Davis appear to look up. As a consequence the singers were routinely covered by the orchestra. I, for one, am tired of this and think it may be time, as it is the case with James Levine at the Met, for Sir Andrew Davis to step aside and allow a younger generation of conductor to helm the principal conducting duties of the Lyric Opera.

Singing the title role of Cenerentola (Angelina) was American mezzo-soprano, Isabel Leonard. Ms. Leonard made her Lyric Opera debut in one of the roles that she has become known for, that of Rosina in The Barber of Seville. I quite enjoyed her in that role as she was one of the highlights of that performance. Ms. Leonard has an innately beautiful round tone that has depth and projection. Unfortunately in this performance those attributes didn’t seem to help her much. Ms. Leonard’s singing and stage presence lacked energy and urgency. While her colleagues sang with intensity and focus, Ms. Leonard’s coloratura was at times foggy and in need of articulation. The top of her voice, when supported and energized, had bloom and color, which was not consistent. Her commitment to the character looked a bit listless in line with her overall singing. She didn’t inhabit the character of a young woman seeking to right the injustices of her step-family. Ms. Leonard’s Cenerentola seemed to accept her lot in life rather than fight her way out of the cinders.

  Juxtaposed to Ms. Leonard’s unfocused performance was the crisp and clear Don Ramiro of American tenor, Lawrence Brownlee’s. Mr. Brownlee, in his Lyric Opera debut, sang with purpose, energy, and intensity evident not only in the balance of the sound, but the ease and agility with which it was produced. To me his voice is the epitome of a Rossini tenor. Its silvery color has a rapid vibrato which creates a sense of fluidity as it dances around Rossini’s fioritura. Mr. Brownlee, though not an incredible actor, was comfortable on the stage and performed the choreographed moments in a concise manner much like his singing. My only complaint was the recurring nasality in his tone on sustained notes or passages that sat in the break between the middle register and upper register (F-G in a Tenor’s voice).

  Another member of last season’s Barber of Seville performance was legendary Italian baritone and Bel Canto specialist, Alessandro Corbelli. Similar in nature to the character of Dr. Bartolo in The Barber of Seville, Mr. Corbelli sang the comic role of Cenerentola’s uncaring fast talking step-father, Don Magnifico. As he did in the Barber performance, Mr. Corbelli brought life to the character of the brusk and self-serving Magnifico with precise comic timing and understated nuance. His voice, though at times rough, easily projected in to the hall and was balanced from top to bottom. He has made an art of Rossini’s consonant riddled ensembles and could perform these roles in his sleep. He very well could be the Lawrence Olivier of operatic acting method.

 Making his Lyric Opera debut in the role of Dandini, Don Ramiro’s servant was Italian baritone Vito Priante. Mr. Priante’s virile baritone was clear and agile and could easily be heard over the orchestra. Like Mr. Brownlee, he has a faster sounding vibrato that helped create line in his voice. He had a tendency to push a bit near the top of his range which stuck out with respect to volume. Like Mr. Corbelli, Mr. Priante committed to the characterization and appeared to enjoy hamming it up for the audience.

Perhaps my favorite singing moment of the night belonged to American bass-baritone Christian Van Horn in the role of the philosopher, Alidoro. Mr. Van Horn has a dark rich voice that was well connected and had depth throughout his entire range that was shown off in the first act aria, Là del ciel nell'arcano profondo. He had no problem being heard over the orchestra, with the exception of when he was required to sing piano in ensembles and the orchestra (as mentioned earlier) drown out most of the singers. The stoic role of Alidoro didn’t require much acting from Mr. Van Horn and his voice was all the presence he really needed.

The roles of the demanding step-sisters were sung by first year members of the Ryan Opera Center, soprano Diana Newman and mezzo-soprano Annie Rosen whose voices and movements blended nicely together. They added the right amount of comic flair to opera without having to go overboard. Once again, they were unfortunately drowned out in large numbers like act one’s wonderful ensemble, O figlie amabili due to the overpowering dynamics of the orchestra.

The sets and design by Joan Guillen were bright not only in color, but lighting as the floor of Don Ramiro’s palace was comparable to the dance floor in the movie, Saturday Night Fever. The costumes were exaggerated late 18^th century, early 19^th century styles with oversized hoop dresses and jackets with an apparent nod to Alice in Wonderland meets comedia dell’arte. This extravagance did not seem out of place compared to the excess of The Marriage of Figaro which detracted from the action. The grid-like chess board look of La Cenerentola fit nicely with the giocoso part of the drama.

 

 I wished that Barbara Gaines, the director of Lyric’s Marriage of Figaro, would have seen this production to see how operatic slapstick comedy worked. Director Joan Font did a wonderful job of allowing the comic roles enough freedom to be funny without cheap jokes to the audience. The icing on the opera buffo cake was the stylized choreography in ensemble numbers that Rossini’s music begged for. There were a few moments where some Mel Brooks moments were missed.

“Walk this way…”

The men’s chorus sounded nice and balanced and they were a character onto themselves, executing the numerous choreographed scenes with ease. The orchestra itself sounded good, but nut its normal top notch self. Again I contribute that what I envision to be a lack of musical vision. I found myself smiling during most of the musical numbers and was delighted by the overall production which has been a rarity the past few seasons. Rossini has an uncanny ability to make one smile and tap their toes at the most unexpected times.