|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Fedora - 1995
Love the Revival
London Evening Standard
20 November 1995
Alexander Waugh
With clockwork predictability all those people who cannot even say the world “love” without feeling the need to pronounce it satirically (and there are millions of them in this country) dismiss Umberto Giordano and all his works as gushing trash.
Fedora, it is true, wears it hear on its sleeve, it is an opera quite devoid of intellectual pretension, a work which gushes with sentimental passion whose principal characters are burning themselves up with the white-hot anxiety of lerve.
The simple plot revolves around a young lady’s determination to avenge the murder of her fiancé, focusing with verve on the levre she feels for the murderer once she catches up with him.
In the end it is she who poisons herself, leaving her adoring Count Ipanov to ruminate on matters alone as the curtain descends to the crashing strains of Giordano’s unashamed verismo ardour.
If the performance is bad then embarrassment prevails, but when Fedora really works, as it does so perfectly in the current revival at Covent Garden, the it succeeds as one of the most moving and bracing operas of its kind.
Argentinean tenor José Cura (Ipanov) has a voice which is a decidedly acquired taste, reedy, sometimes even duck-like, but a sound which nonetheless registers as uniquely beautiful to those who have decided to accept it. He is a superb actor, a convincing-looking hero and an intelligent, spontaneous and gifted musician. The talk nowadays is all of Roberto Alagna as the great hope among young world-class tenors and Alagna will no-doubt assert himself as the people’s hero in years to come, but I have no doubt that Cura, with his unusually distinctive sound and equally abundant talent, will also rise to the dreaded supertenor status as special hero by appointment to the cognoscenti.
His touching portrait of Ipanov is matched all the way in this lavishly hypnotic revival by the superb performance of Maria Guleghina in the title role. Like many Russian sopranos, her Italian diction might do with a little polish, but that is a small matter when set against the blazing trail of her dramatic convictions. She is a singer who has but to open her mouth to persuade the audience of her point of view and her cleverly paced advance through the technical exigencies of this role is just as enthralling as the actual brilliance of tone she is so effortlessly able to produce. (until 2 December)
*
A Tip of the Hat to the Tenor
The Times
November 1995
Ian Brunskill
Not everybody likes Fedora. Rodney Milnes, for instance, who reviewed the production in The Time when it was new to Covent Garden last year, thinks it is the worst opera ever written—a conviction shaken only by exposure to Mascagni’s Iris. Yet Giordano’s verismo melodrama retains a firm place on the fringes of the repertory, enjoying lavish revivals in major international houses while more deserving rarities make do (at best) with the odd small-scale performance at some enterprising specialist festival.
Fedora’s appeal is certainly not dramatic. The plot—love, assassination and foreign travel, against a dim background of revolutionary intrigue—has little to commend it, as even Giordano may have realized, to judge by the way he belts through its twists and turns. Nor are the musical attractions compelling, although the score is atmospheric enough, with emotive effects often skillfully deployed.
The credit, such as it is, for Fedora’s survival must go to the singers who continue to be drawn to its two principal roles. Unlikely as it may seem, this is one of opera’s star vehicles.
The star in the current Covent Garden revival of Limberto Puggelli’s stylish, mainly monochrome production—and the justification for some starry ticket prices—is Placido Domingo, who gives the first of four performances tonight.
But on Saturday, for the opening night of the run, prices were lower and the tenor was the young Argentinian José Cura, who made his Royal Opera debut in similar circumstances in June, alternating with Domingo in Stiffelio. He has a vivid stage presence and shrewd dramatic intelligence, which he used to add convincing dignity and warmth to an essentially two-dimensional character. He also has a voice of real distinction—dry, slightly metallic, not always refined but ardent and authentically heroic, with ringing top notes. He returns for the last night of the run on December 2.
His ardor was matched by the Fedora of the Russian soprano Maria Guleghina, making a welcome and overdue Covent Garden debut. Passionate, intense, with lustrous tone and impressive power, she too brought to her role a conviction and credibility it hardly deserves. The same commitment was evident in nicely detailed cameos from a large supporting cast—a tribute to the efforts of the revival director, David Edwards, and to the poised, persuasive conducting of Edward Downes.
Last Updated: Saturday, August 12, 2006
© Copyright: Kira
