Cavalli - Erismena (Aix, 2017)

Francesco Cavalli - Erismena

Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, 2017

Leonardo García Alarcón, Jean Bellorini, Francesca Aspromonte, Carlo Vistoli, Susanna Hurrell, Jakub Józef Orliński, Alexander Miminoshvili, Lea Desandre, Andrea Vincenzo Bonsignore, Stuart Jackson, Tai Oney, Jonathan Abernethy

ARTE Concert - 12th July 2017

There are times I'm convinced that there is a deliberate attempt to confuse the audience in some of these early baroque and opera seria works. It's not just that the plots are needlessly intricate and difficult to unravel, but the names often all sound the same. So in addition to Erismena in Cavalli's opera of that name we have Erimante and Erineo, with an Ercinia appearing out of the woodwork when we thought her name was Alcesta, all of those becoming mixed up with Orimeno and Aldimira. And who the heck are Arminda and Artamene?

If I didn't know better I'd think the librettist was trying to cover over any plot weaknesses or lack of credibility in the extraordinary events and coincidences that take place in such works, but you can hardly accuse Cavalli of fudging the issue here with his gorgeous melodies and precise delineation of mood and character. Even if you are a little confused in places as one identity dissolves into another, disguises are dropped and genders are switched, in the masterful hands of Cavalli the changes just reflect a rich set of individuals who come together to create complex connections and bonds.

Breaking down the plot to its essentials in an effort to simplify (I'll try anyway) and focus on its themes, the fates of all of the characters revolve essentially - and not unexpectedly - around a king. Erimante the King of Armenia is haunted by a vision of an unknown warrior who he dreams will take his throne from him. At the same time, a wounded warrior has been discovered by Orimeno. He leaves the warrior with his beloved Aldimira and her nurse Alcesta, who helps cure the man's injuries. When Orimeno brings him to the king however, Erimante recognises the feared warrior of his dreams and orders Erineo to kill him.

Erineo however fails to carry out this task, leaving the warrior to fall into the hands of Aldimira, who has fallen in love with him. The warrior reveals his mission is to seek vengeance against Idraspe, who abandoned the warrior's 'sister' Erismena, although obviously we know that the warrior is Erismena herself disguised in a soldier's armour. Romantic complications are added to the whole affair - most of them involving the flighty Aldimira it has to be said - but there are further surprises in store since - no big surprise this one - Erismena is not the only one living under an assumed name or identity. Alesta, who is really the nurse Ercinia, eventually reveals all, including the fact that Erismena is the daughter of Erimante and as such the rightful heir to the throne rather than a threat to the king. See what I mean about the names?

Anyhow, safe to say that there are a lot more complications, identities and characters involved in the affairs in Armenia (Arminda and Artamene incidentally are only mentioned in passing otherwise it really would be impossible to unravel this one). To similarly simplify the essential theme of Cavalli's opera - and the whole disguises and unknown origins question of such operas - it's all about the search for identity, for understanding one's true nature. This realisation of course only comes about through some hard-earned life lessons, but in the case of Cavalli's Erismena, the work is considerably enriched by the types of characters involved and by the musical treatment that the composer creates for them.

Leonardo García Alarcón's conducting from the harpsichord of the Cappella Mediterranea brings out all those characteristics and moods with a sparseness and directness of means that only a skilled period instrument ensemble can do. What the Aix-en-Provence production reveals however is that the purity of young voices also play just as vital a role in bringing the themes of the work to the surface. It's immediately apparent from the moment that Susanna Hurrell's Aldimira and Francesca Aspromonte's 'warrior' Erismena sing the duet 'Occhi belli', revealing not only the the beauty of the sentiments but the naivety behind them. It's an opera that is all about youth.

Aldimira is flirtatious, capricious, inconstant, and has many lovers - she herself exemplifies one facet of the changeable nature of love and the instability of trust and fidelity. Erismena represents another side of love, one that has solidity of reason and is constant in purpose. People come in all shapes and sizes, quite literally here, particularly in the case of the old nurse, showing that love and its torments are not the preserve of the young alone. Love is a complex business and changeable, and how better to illustrate that than the manner in which the twists and turns of Cavalli's opera and musical treatment covers it.

It's a much richer and more dynamic palette that is brought out here than the laments and single-emotion at a time expression of subsequent opera seria period. Arias and ariosos flit between one mood or emotion to another - as someone in love is wont to do - and the singers here are eminently capable of displaying the necessary range, where youth and purity of voice and sentiment is absolutely essential. It's through love that we recognise our true selves, the opera tells us, through the destiny and fate that bonds us to each other as family, and it's love in all its guises that gives life its depth, richness and quality. Cavalli recognises this and puts it all into his dynamically expressive music.

The stage production at Aix isn't quite as rich and expressive, but it rightly defers to the music and the singing. The set design has a makeshift quality, dimly lit, with a wire mesh platform employed and canopy of light-bulbs. The costumes too are in that mix-and-don't-match style that nevertheless reflects characters who have many contradictory facets and might not don't really know who they are yet. Francesca Aspromonte sings Erismane in a way accentuates her essential beauty, firmness and brightness. Susanna Hurrell captures a sense of lightness and innocence in Aldimira that makes her character's inconstancy charming rather than flirtatious and damaging. Carlo Vistoli's Idraspe/Erineo is beautifully sung, reflecting his dual nature and identity and his desire to control his nature, but all of the roles are sung with bright youthful pureness and great skill, weaving around the Cappella Mediterranea's beautiful interpretation of Cavalli's melodies, to striking effect.

Links: Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, Culturebox

Cavalli - La Calisto (Strasbourg, 2017)

Francesco Cavalli - La Calisto

L'Opéra National du Rhin, Strasbourg - 2017

Christophe Rousset, Mariame Clément, Elena Tsallagova, Vivica Genaux, Giovanni Battista Parodi, Nikolay Borchev, Filippo Mineccia, Raffaella Milanesi, Guy de Mey, Vasily Khoroshev, Jaroslaw Kitala, Lawrence Olsworth-Peter 

Culturebox - 2 May 2017

There is a distinct tone of melancholic longing pervading La Calisto (1651) that sets it apart from most other Cavalli operas that we have since been able to rediscover in more recent years. That familiar tone is certainly there is the romps of Elena and Il Giasone, but those works encompass a much greater emotional range in their adventurous blend of farce and raw humanity, while La Calisto's melancholy tread through classical myth seems rather academic by comparison. La Calisto is however by no means any lesser a work, since what seems to be a narrower focus is actually a deeper and more expansive exploration of different aspects of one of the most agonising of human sentiments; the longing to love and be loved in return.

This single unifying theme that runs throughout the opera manifests itself however in a surprising number of ways. It may have a mythological treatment in Ovid's story that plays out between immortal gods, wood nymphs and satyrs in a setting of antiquity, but the sentiments that afflicts these poor creatures in Cavalli's treatment is recognisably human. The balance of humans aspiring to the godlike immortality that love conveys on them is also rather well brought out in this 2017 production directed by Mariame Clément for L'Opéra National du Rhin in Strasbourg.

There's no-one left unaffected by this sense of longing in La Calisto, but some of them know better than others what to do about it. It's the chaste nature of the goddess Diana who inadvertently sows much of the confusion. She can't help that Endymion composes rapturous verses to her, but his love might not be as hopeless as you would expect, and the goddess is strangely moved by his devotion. Young and old, no-one is immune from the torments of love. Even Diana's elderly nymph assistant Lymphea isn't too old to want a bit of love in her life (much like Helen's maid, Astianassa in Elena or Delfa in Il Giasone), but she's not that desperate that she will submit to the advances of the young satyr Satirino, although she'll happily play him along for a while.

Jupiter too is no novice at this game, and it's the poor nymph Calisto who is cruelly deceived this time by his tricks. Led on by Mercury, he disguises himself as Diana in order to seduce the young maiden. And, just like the inconsiderate rulers who are determined to have their own way against the run of nature in the subsequent opera seria treatment of such subjects, Jupiter's actions cause even greater consternation and misery for the lovelorn characters of La Calisto. Believing it to be Diana acting in this manner, the satyr Pan feels emboldened to pursue his own less than noble intentions for the haughty goddess, and he's prepared to use violent means to get what he wants.

There are a lot of unhappy lovers in La Calisto then, each involved in situations that are far from ideal. Let's not forget Juno either, who is married to such as louse, and once again having to deal with the fall-out of her husband's philandering. Cavalli has beautiful laments for each of them, and since it's not opera seria, there is nothing generic about any of them. And also since it's not opera seria, there are no sudden revelations of long lost princes believed dead or sudden gaining of a conscience by a ruler to sort everything out, so there remains a more realistic bittersweet character to the music and the sentiments expressed in La Calisto, where the realisation is reached that "The dying of one kiss gives birth to another", and that as a consequence "Joy is infinite".

The character of those heart-rending laments and beautiful melodies is brought out beautifully by Christophe Rousset even though this opera doesn't adhere to the strong rhythmic pulse that characterises his interpretations of much of the other baroque work of Lully and Rameau. Here, with the period instruments of his Les Talens Lyriques ensemble, there is a rich, delicate and sympathetic treatment of the music and the sentiments behind it.

Mariame Clément's direction and Julia Hansen's set and costume designs are also wonderfully sympathetic towards the work, maintaining much of its classical antiquity in terms of dress and a traditional depiction of mythological creatures, but framing it quite nicely within the more down-to-earth setting of a bear-pit in a zoo. That might not seem the obvious setting for La Calisto, but it is one that permits a bear to be used (Calisto is transformed into a bear by Juno before being redeemed into the Great Bear constellation by Jupiter). It's the ingenious stage-craft however that allows it to work so well, the production flowing seamlessly between a variety of scenes that they are able to set within the high walls of the pit, in the bear house and around it.

Clément's direction is also responsible for establishing the right kind of tone of the work, with a lightness of touch that doesn't undermine it with too much comedy. Most of the comedy is visual, whether it's Jupiter swaggering around with a cigar trying to emulate a female walk as Diana, or the dangly bits jiggled about by the satyrs. Nor is there too much reliance on the modern-day framing device. The antiquity seems to be a parallel telling of a modern-day office romance situation, where Endymion and Pan are rivals for the affections of their ice-maiden boss Diana. None of this is forced however, the production flitting between the situations as required, the costumes not strictly one period or another, with Jupiter and Juno dressed in formal evening wear from the 1940s, Mercury wearing 90s' street gear or transforming into a circus ringmaster according to the whims of the setting and music.

Elena Tsallagova is the bright star of the show (in more ways than one obviously). She gives a bright, youthful and sparkling performance as Calisto, her singing clear and controlled, handling the requirements of the role with great facility and expression. Vivica Genaux likewise provides an enjoyable turn as Diana (and Jupiter as Diana), fully in the spirit of the piece, bright and luminous, with just the right edge of goddess coolness that reflects the uncertainty of feelings that don't become her position. Without overplaying their hand, Giovanni Battista Parodi's Jupiter, Nikolay Borchev's Mercury and Filippo Mineccia's Pan and Raffaella Milanesi's Juno all contribute to the seemingly effortless lightness that Clément and Rousset weave around Cavalli's beautiful score.

Links: L'Opéra National du Rhin, Culturebox

Cavalli - Il Giasone (Geneva, 2017)

Francesco Cavalli - Il Giasone

Grand Théâtre de Genève, Geneva - 2017

Leonardo García Alarcón, Serena Sinigaglia, Valer Sabadus, Kristina Hammarström, Kristina Mkhitaryan, Alexander Milev, Günes Gürle, Raúl Giménez, Willard White, Migran Agadzhanyan, Dominique Visse, Mariana Flores, Mary Feminear

ARTE Concert - February 2017

The first opera composers, back in Venice in the 17th century, believed that the Greek tragedies were meant to be performed to musical accompaniment, and the invention of opera was a way of reinstating music as a key component of dramatic expression. The notion about Greek drama proved to be a mistaken one, but from it developed a whole new way of expressing classic tales and drawing out underlying subtexts, ideas and themes. Realising its potential, the first great opera composer Monteverdi soon extended the scope of opera beyond the gods and myths of the classics and into the more commonplace earthly sentiments of human love, loss and lust. His student Francesco Cavalli took these ideas even further.

It's only now as more of the composer's works are being examined and performed that we are beginning to realise the extent to which Cavalli developed the art of lyric drama. Central to the rediscovery of many rare Cavalli works is the Argentinean baroque specialist conductor Leonardo García Alarcón. The success of his Elena at Aix-en-Provence in 2013 is being followed with a premiere this year of Erismena, and he unearthed the wonderful Eliogabalo for the Paris Opera in 2016. Alarcón and Geneva's contribution to the development of the Cavalli catalogue is another rarity, Il Giasone, composed in 1649. It's also derived from those classical Greek epics, but it's given what we can now see as a characteristic humanly rich and down-to-earth treatment from Cavalli.

Cavalli's Il Giasone gives us a different perspective on the story of Jason that the less than flattering one that we would be more accustomed to hearing from the perspective of Euripides's Medea. So has Jason just had bad ancient Greek PR? Well, Cavalli's Il Giasone gives a more rounded account of the leader of the Argonauts and judging by the tender duets that he shares with Medea, there seems to be genuine love, affection and respect there for the Queen of Colchis. On the other hand, Jason's promiscuity is also made quite apparent in Cavalli's opera, a habit that will get him into trouble further down the line by the time he gets to Corinth. Here, having had what Wikipedia amusingly describes as having "extensive relations" with the women of Lemnos, Jason has already fathered twins to Hypsipyle (Isifile in the opera) and Medea's nurse Delfa claims that he has had another set of twins with her. He certainly puts it about a bit.

What is Jason's response to all these accusations? Well, Serena Sinigaglia's direction for Il Giasone seems to be perfectly in the spirit of Cavalli's usual treatment of such situations; deny everything. Or he at least has the wit to claim, while wearing a cheesy grin at the thought of all these women claiming paternity, that it could have been him, but who's to know and how he is supposed to keep count of his conquests and the resulting progeny? That really sets the tone for a work that is far fresher and more entertaining than a work almost 400 years old has any right to be. The delightful Geneva production and Leonardo García Alarcón's conducting of the Cappella Mediterranea contributes to this impression with a staging that is simple, captivating and musically invigorating.

The set and costume designs by Ezio Toffolutti are just perfect for every purpose, and Cavalli has plenty of purpose to put them towards. There are no extravagant gestures or clever concepts applied, just an effort placed into making the stage look stylish attractive and dramatically effective. The main prop is a dark circle of standing stones with surrounding flat-panel bushes that serve as hiding places and platforms for romantic assignations, as well as providing a suitable location for Medea to work invocations and cast spells. The costumes, mainly on the part of Isifile and her Lemnos entourage, are 1920s' period elegance, while there is also good use made out of body suits for the muscular Ercole, the hunchbacked Demo and the nursing attributes of Delfa. They also come hilariously complete with miniature appendages for the dancing cherub Amore.

The plot has something of a 'Carry on Jason' kind of comic farce to it with Demo (Migran Agadzhanyan) providing stuttering double-entendres and the nurse Delfa (who else can do this role better than Dominique Visse) leaping on any sailor who is game enough to take her on, but that's only part of Cavalli's rich entertainment. The situations can also convey something of the underlying menace of Medea's formidable reputation, but at the same time show an unexpected tenderness and even sensitivity for Jason, seeking protection for him in his quest for the Golden Fleece. It might seem like there are far too many little side-plots and situations, but even with a large cast of mythological heroes, villains, gods, dwarfs, queens and kings in complex arrangements, they all display recognisably human characteristics and contribute to the central subject of the relations between men and women. Cavalli scores the music for it all wonderfully, with invigorating dance rhythms, touching laments and reflective love duets.

Medea is a gift of a character in whatever dramatic or operatic incarnation she appears and Kristina Hammarström takes the role well here in the Geneva Il Giasone alongside countertenor Valer Sabadus as Jason. Cavalli rarely goes in for showy arias, preferring instead to give the performers strong characters that they can really get their teeth into, and that's certainly the case here. Even so, there are a number of duets between Jason and Medea that are just beautifully written and performed here. Kristina Mkhitaryan also has a substantial role as Hypsipyle/Isifile which she sings wonderfully, bringing a lovely clear brightness to the character. Musically, it's a real treat with Leonardo García Alarcón's conducting the Cappella Mediterranea, the period instruments bringing out a lovely percussive rhythmic edge to the score with a deep low continuo accompaniment.

Links: ARTE Concert, Grand Théâtre de Genève

Cavalli - Eliogabalo (Paris, 2016)

Francesco Cavalli - Eliogabalo

L'Opéra de Paris, 2016

Leonardo García Alarcón, Thomas Jolly, Franco Fagioli, Paul Groves, Nadine Sierra, Valer Barna-Sabadus, Elin Rombo, Mariana Flores, Matthew Newlin, Emiliano Gonzalez Toro, Scott Conner

Culturebox - October 2016

You wouldn't think it to look at it today in Thomas Jolly's production for the Paris Opera, but Cavalli's opera Eliogabalo was considered "old-fashioned" back in 1667 and consequently never performed until it was rediscovered in 1999. It's true that Monteverdi had pretty much set the standard for a Roman ruler involved in a twisted love affair that threatens the stability of the empire back in 1643 with The Coronation of Poppea, but ironically, stories of cruel kings who thwart lovers' unions for his own twisted desires would continue to be a staple of 18th century opera seria. Even Mozart's Don Giovanni owes much to the convention, and if there's any opera that comes close to Mozart's reinvention of the genre, it's this bold "old-fashioned" work by Cavalli.

The Emperor Eliogabalo (based on the Syrian-born Elagabalus, emperor of Rome from 218 at the age of fourteen until his death in 222 AD) is a special kind of monster. Eliogabalo here has an all-female Senate in the Capitol so that he could control them and use the Senate like a harem (although in real-life the emperor's tastes were supposedly inclined more towards men). Thomas Jolly's production directs this particular scene in the opera with real flair, the gender-bending Eliogabalo even presenting himself as an extravagantly made-up woman when he goes to the Capitol. But Jolly doesn't go overboard in the manner of the camp countertenor fest of Silviu Purcărete 2012 Opéra National de Lorraine production of Vinci's Artaserse. He keeps it stylised, but still manages to capture the dangerous allure of Eliogabalo's power and his abuse of it.

That's just one aspect of Eliogabalo's character, one that shows that he is sexually perverse and won't let anyone stand in his way when he sets his sights on a woman he wants. The main part of the conflict that drives the opera then is the emperor's determination to marry Gemmira. Gemmira is already promised to Alessandro (Severus Alexander, who would succeed Elagabalus), who has just returned to Rome after restoring order to a revolt within the Pretorian guard. Despite being warmly welcomed, Gemmira warns Alessandro that Eliogabalo is suspicious of the respect that the Senate and people have for him.

Gemmira is also the sister of Giuliano, who is upset that the Emperor has seduced his beloved Eritea. Having heard Etirea demand marriage from the emperor as a way to restore her honour, Giuliano blames Eritea for the betrayal, not realising that Eliogabalo has no intention of marrying her. Like his relationship with the law - when he breaks a law it is to honour it - a marriage vow means nothing to the emperor. Eliogabalo's advisors warn him that he is playing with fire, since Giuliano is the commander of the army and it would be dangerous to make an adversary of him.

Do you think Eliogabalo cares? Determined to seduce and (if necessary) marry Gemmira, he plans to introduce her into his all-female Senate. He pushes another woman, Atila, Alessandro's way, hoping to create a division and dispute between the lovers. As for Giuliano, well, the good old-fashioned poison drink should sort out that problem for him. Eliogabalo is wonderfully constructed in this way. Twisted but utterly believable for the dark schemes and plotting that are enacted, and all the more gripping for it. What really makes Cavalli's work exceptional however is his musical colour and characterisation for this intriguing conflict of personalities, emotions and motivations.

There are other colourful characters like Nerbalone - who could well be almost a prototype Leporello for Don Giovanni - who accepts the love of Lenia, a grotesque old rich woman (played by a man of course) who advises Eliogabalo. The origins of much of the conventions of opera seria can also be seen to develop from this work, but even if that originally goes back to Monteverdi and L'incoronazione di Poppea, Cavalli develops harmony and musical colour, with arias and ariosos that are not lengthy or extravagant, but do show what the human voice is capable of doing in a dramatic context. Particularly the castrati.

If there were any justice in the opera world, countertenors like Franco Fagioli would be feted and revered as superstars in the same way as castrati like Senesino and Farinelli once were. Fashions have changed and nasty operations are no longer required, but thankfully we have singers who can really make something of these roles. Cavalli gives the perfect musical setting for the quality of the voice to shine, but he has created a gourmet character in Eliogabalo and a tasty dramatic construction for the countertenor to get his teeth into, and Fagioli's performance has real bite. The rest of the roles are no leftovers with only Paul Groves's Alessandro coming across as a little stale, but Alessandro does have a lot of dry recitative to work with. (Not sure there's any justification for these culinary metaphors, but hey...) Nadine Sierra's Etirea is impassioned and agonised, Valer Barna-Sabadus strong in the other countertenor role of Guliano and there's a wonderful turn from Emiliano Gonzalez Toro as the lusty Lenia.

At 34, Thomas Jolly is already making a name for himself as a director with adventurous Shakespeare productions in France. Directing his first opera in Paris at the Palais Garnier, he's clearly in touch with the spirit and intent of Cavalli, bringing all the qualities of the work to life. The touches of humour are all there amidst the dark scheming and imperious declamation, and the extravagant camp is present but reined in on the side of grandeur with occasional deranged flourishes. Underneath it all however is always the underlying sentiment of love and heartbreak that is the result of Eliogabalo's actions on the individual. Taking its lead from Leonardo García Alarcón's lively and dynamic arrangements of the score, the colours, moods and tone are perfectly balanced in the stage presentation, with bold costumes, minimal sets and effective use of crossing light beams to suggest grander structures and themes.

Links: Paris Opera, Culturebox

Cavalli - Elena

Francesco Cavalli - Elena

Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, 2013

Leonardo García Alarcón, Jean-Yves Ruf, Emőke Baráth, Valer Barna-Sabadus, Fernando Guimarães, Solenn' Lavanant Linke, Rodrigo Ferreira, Emiliano Gonzalez Toro, Anna Reinhold, Scott Conner, Mariana Flores, Majdouline Zerari, Brendan Tuohy, Christopher Lowrey, Job Tomé

Medici Live Internet Streaming - 11 July 2013

Cavalli operas present considerable difficulties at the best of times, but Elena, one of composer's rarest works, is perhaps one of the most challenging. Quite what tone to set for the work is complicated by the nature of the writing itself, its libretto finished by Nicolò Minato after the death of Cavalli's regular collaborator Giovanni Faustini in 1651. First performed in 1659, the work moreover hasn't been produced in full for over 350 years, and attitudes towards how opera is performed have changed a lot in that time. Is Elena meant to be played as a relatively straight account of the abduction of Helen of Troy or is it more of what the Aix programme describes as a "vaudeville mythologique" or indeed in reference to Offenbach, a "Baroque Belle Hélène"?

The 2013 Aix-en-Provence production, conducted by Leonardo García Alarcón and directed by Jean-Yves Ruf seems to be a little uncertain quite how to play Elena in this regard. When in doubt however, it seems that the best model for playing Cavalli is to look back at his master and mentor, Claudio Monteverdi and in particular at his masterpiece L'Incoronazione di Poppea. Following its innovative approach to mixing of the vulgar and the sublime, the human and the heavenly, Elena seems to assert its own tone quite successfully.

The opera starts out light and humorous, with folk-like dance rhythms marked out on harpsichord, but it's given tremendous colour through Cavalli's writing for woodwind and trumpet, with the lute-like Theorbo used as well for more plaintive laments. The dominant tone however is established when the central relationship of Elena and Menelaus emerges from the complications that ensue when the colourful cast comes into contact with the face that launched a thousand ships, and probably just as many operas. Even the manner in which the situation arises here is a combination of the mythic and the comic, the Prologue being a familiar early Baroque one where the Gods are in dispute. It's an undignified affair to say the least, with Discordia (in disguise as Concordia), setting Juno, Venus and Pallas against one another in a dispute over who is most worthy of the Golden Apple. Discord sown (so to speak), it's determined that the fate of Helen to be joined with Menelaus is not going to be smooth sailing.

That meddling in the affairs of mortals leads, as it does in most Baroque operas, to great complications in the main part of Elena. It's Theseus who abducts Helen, having abandoned his intended Hippolyta (which will have repercussions later), but in doing so he also takes Elisa, an Amazonian slave who has been engaged by King Tyndareus of Sparta as a wrestling assistant for Helen. Elisa however is none other than Meneleas dressed in female clothing, but so good is his disguise that not only has Theseus's colleague Pirithous fallen in love with her, but so too has King Tyndareus. As much then to bring back Elisa as his abducted daughter, the King sends his jester Irus out to find them.

That's just a simplified version of what happens in Act I, but even without bringing in the other players - in disguise and cross-dressing - it's not too difficult to see how such a plot can seem a little bit ridiculous as it descends into bitterness, rivalry and misunderstandings. On the other hand, it also provides plenty of opportunity for a variety of situations and tones, all fuelled by overwhelming mad desires. If what ensues is almost farcical, the sentiments expressed are nonetheless heartfelt. Helen's maid, Astianassa for example, only wishes that someone cared enough to abduct her and sings a beautiful aria of sadness for her position. The same is the case for the spurned Hippolyta, for the Prince Menestheus, who falls in love with Helen on first sight, and for King Tyndareus. Their passions might seem silly to others, but they are real to them.

In its example of showing important historical figures like Nero, Seneca and Poppea to be humans with the same sentiments as everyone else, Monteverdi's L'Incoronazione di Poppea may indeed be the model to follow in terms of setting the variations of tone to be found in Elena. In many other respects however, Cavalli's writing goes beyond Monteverdi in the richness of the instrumentation, in the supplementation of the basso continuo, but particularly in the writing for voices. In addition to the expected solo laments, much of the plot and interaction between the characters is developed though beautiful duets, and it's used as well to express their compatibility and common accord. Often both voices sing the same words, one a beat behind the other, but the harmony of the voices and the expressions of lyrical beauty are quite extraordinary.

Despite the intervention of many characters and the expression of their desires towards them, it's the duets then between Menelaus and Helen that affirm the rightness of their union. Theseus and Hippolyta also put their differences aside (Theseus apologises to Castor and Pollux, "Sorry for abducting Helen", "That's ok, forgive and forget" they reply!), which also allows Concordia to reign again (temporarily) and the opera to end with a short but beautiful quartet of voices in union. The singing is excellent particularly from these main players - Emőke Baráth as Helen, Fernando Guimarães as Theseus, and Solenn' Lavanant Linke as Hippolyta, but the stand-out performance is undoubtedly that of countertenor Valer Barna-Sabadus as Menelaus.

The stage direction by Jean-Yves Ruf and the set designs by Laure Pichat keep things relatively simple. The stage is small and resembles an arena or a bullring, with a semi-circle of wood fencing behind the players. The period is not classical but closer to 17th century, the production even employing old-style special effects for wind and storms, with billowing sails for those sea journeys. It doesn't always sustain visual interest in what is a long 3-hour opera with a great deal of characters and repetitive situations, but the simplicity and intimacy of the setting is undoubtedly the best way to play a work of this type, and it frames the strengths of Cavalli's writing and supports the fine singing.

Elena at the Aix-en-Provence Festival is available for viewing on-line (with French subtitles) from the Medici and ARTE Live Web sites.

Cavalli - La Didone

Francesco Cavalli - La Didone

Théâtre de Caen, 2011

William Christie, Clément Herve-Léger, Anna Bonitatibus, Kresimir Spicer, Xavier Sabata, Maria Streijffert, Terry Wey, Katherine Watson, Tehila Nini Goldstein, Claire Debono, Joseph Cornwell, Victor Torres, Valerio Contaldo, Mariana Rewerski, Matthias Vidal, Francisco Javier Borda

Opus Arte

Depending on the work, depending on who is playing it and depending on how it is staged, Cavalli’s operas - some of the oldest works in existence - can struggle to hold the attention of a modern audience. They can be long, usually based on classical subjects, consist of long stretches of recitative accompanied principally on harpsichord and lyrone basso continuo with a limited range of period string instruments. There’s little in the works that lends itself to exciting staging in the way of, for example, the French regal entertainments of Lully and Campra, with all their ballet sequences and choral arrangements. There are no such difficulties with this particular work - one of Cavalli’s earliest operas first performed in 1641 - a version of the familiar story of the Fall of Troy and the love story of Dido and Aeneas, and with the production being in the hands of William Christie and his company, Les Arts Florissants, there are no concerns either about the musical interpretation of La Didone, which is staged with dramatic intensity by Clément Herve-Léger.

What makes La Didone rather more accessible than some works of early opera is the libretto by Giovanni Francesco Busenello, the librettist responsible for Monteverdi’s ground-breaking L’Incoronazione di Poppea, an opera that daringly put real characters onto the stage for the first time rather than the gods and heroes of ancient mythology. Even though La Didone is related to the mythological figures of Virgil’s epic Latin poem ‘The Aeneid‘, it benefits nonetheless from Busenello’s wonderful humanising of the characters and indeed the gods. The libretto isn’t made up of the usual vague pronouncements and declarations, but is dramatically and poetically expressive of the range of human emotions and passions that are brought out by this expansive work. In the first half - in the model followed by Berlioz in the now more familiar Les Troyens - the libretto captures the true horror and nature of the experience of war, the destruction of one’s country and with it one’s hopes and dreams. The second half also corresponds with Berlioz’s division, with Aeneas’ arrival in Carthage and with the trials that are brought by love and betrayal, expressed in a variety of ways, through Dido’s love for her dead husband, her rejection of Iarbas, and in her love for Aeneas’ that is curtailed by his sense of duty (to the gods) to abandon her and strike out for Italy.

This wonderfully rich story is brilliantly described in Busenello’s libretto, but if it truly achieves the same kind of expression of human passions that can be found in L’Incoronazione di Poppea, it’s also due to the musical compositions of Cavalli, himself a pupil of Monteverdi. William Christie directs this from the harpsichord and the rhythms and tone are clear, precise and dynamically attuned to the emotional content of the work, emphasising the horror with driving chords and accompanying the delicate laments and love-songs with heartfelt lyricism. Even without a synopsis (there isn’t a detailed one with this DVD/BD release unfortunately), it’s not difficult to follow what is going on thanks to the clear libretto where figures introduce themselves naturally, and due to the musical accompaniment that defines them. This is particularly strong in the tricky first Act, where in addition to gods directing the events, numerous figures wander around the dark ruins of Troy in despair, terrorised by marauding Greeks - Coroebus dying in the arms of Cassandra, Hecuba’s despair for the fate of the women, Aeneas’s wife Creusa murdered and returning as a ghostly figure. Appropriately then, it all looks and sounds like the Hades of Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo supplanted into the hell of a destroyed Troy.

Things actually become a little more confusing in the Carthage sections in this production with the doubling up of roles, when the same singer who played Aeneas’ dead wife Creusa in Act 1 (Tehila Nini Goldstein) turns up in Act 2 as Juno trying to destroy him. Even trickier, Cupid disguises himself as Aeneas’ son Ascanio in Act 2 to bring about the love between Aeneas and Dido, so although it makes for a convincing disguise when both Cupid and Ascanio are played by the same person (Terry Wey), it could be just a little confusing. (The chaptering, available as a pop-up on BD, will however clarify any other confusion over which characters are singing at any time). The fact that it works is down to the strong direction and staging working in perfect accordance with the music and the drama of the libretto. Clément Herve-Léger keeps the sets simple, employing only one or two large and effective symbolic gestures. It’s not period, but other than the inappropriate scaffolding for the down-to-earth gods and Venus lugging a suitcase for her journey to Carthage - an effort to humanise the appearances of the gods in line with the nature of the work and against the tradition of big fanfares and mechanical stage entrances - there are no distracting modern anachronisms.

With the simplicity of the staging and the sparseness of the orchestration, compared to conventional opera, much depends on the quality of the singing here. Populated extensively from Christie’s ‘Jardin des Voix‘ school for new young talent, the singing is exceptional right across the whole cast. Anna Bonitatibus is a clear, powerful and resonant Didone (Dido), and Kresimir Spicer a gentle lyrical Enea (Aeneas), both of them commanding and deeply expressive in the central roles, but the cast - clearly trained for this kind of singing - is made up of youthful voices filled with passion, clarity and a purity of tone that is well suited to early opera (some however - such as Francisco Javier Borda playing both Ilioneo and Mercury - try a little too hard). La Didone is still not without some longeurs for anyone unfamiliar with early opera, but this is certainly one of the more accessible works of this period, treated to a beautiful looking and fresh sounding production from Les Arts Florissants, that brings a much needed vitality to this rare 370 year-old work.

Opus Arte’s Blu-ray release comes with impressive specifications in terms of High Definition image and sound. The period instruments in particular have a wonderful clarity of tone within the natural reverb of the Caen theatre. It sounds a little bright and there’s no low-frequency range at all in the DTS HD-Master Audio 5.1 mix, but it’s distributed well emphasising the fragility of the delicate playing and the strength of the vocal expression. The PCM Stereo mix is also clear and true. The BD is dual-layer BD50, 1080i and all-region compatible, with subtitles in English, French and German only. There are no extra features other than a Cast Gallery and a booklet with an essay on the work which has a brief outline of the story, but there is no detailed synopsis.