December 8, 2005
La Cenerentola – ‘Cinderella’ – was the result of a late night brainstorming session between Rossini and his librettist, Christmas 1816, who were suddenly in urgent need of a new opera (the previous one had just been banned by the censors). Rossini’s final suggestion before falling asleep was ‘Cinderella?’; when he awoke the following morning his librettist presented him with an outline treatment. A mere month later – with some help from other musicians and earlier operas – the work was performed to general delight. Centuries later it is still being performed to general delight, in this case by Glyndebourne Touring Opera to the enthusiastic patrons of the New Theatre, Oxford, in a new production designed by the legendary Peter Hall (this is his 20th Glyndebourne production over the past 30 years).
The sets were a masterpiece of efficient simplicity: spare, clear designs that nonetheless felt richly detailed. One could practically touch the dust and crumbling fittings in Don Magnifico’s palazzo, so strongly did a few well-placed features evoke faded grandeur and downright decay. A partial wall change later and we were in a gleaming marble ballroom, itself a marvellously malleable space as doors, a sweeping staircase and a throne variously appeared through the opera.
At many points in the opera the characters address themselves or the audience, rather than each other, and at these moments the lighting would change, picking out the speaker while casting the others in semi-darkness. This was a very effective device, although perhaps used once or twice to often. The choreography was detailed and varied, with never an opportunity for humour passed up. Some of the most memorable moments, however, were those that dramatised the very words of the libretto. For instance, when the leads describe how their stories are unavoidably intertwining, they danced slowly around each other intertwining limbs in ever-different combinations.
The singing was superb: all seven leads had marvellous voices. Cinderella effortlessly spanned a range from downtrodden servant to confident princess, soaring over others but never losing its wonderfully rounded tone. Prince Ramiro (Matthew Beale) darted around monstrously flamboyant arias such as ‘Si, ritrovarla, io giuro’, delighting all with immaculate leaps and improbably high trills. The two sisters were rendered ghastly by their behaviour, not their lively and responsive singing. Smug tutor Alidoro, dreadful and deluded Don Magnifico and slyly mischievous Dandini were similarly pitch-perfect in all senses. It is rare to see such a cast in which one is aware of no casting compromises.
The orchestra was similarly excellent, revelling in such a stylistically slippery opera. Special mention must go to some of the most characterful and varied continuo I have heard in a long time. The recitatives (largely written by hurriedly hired hands, not Rossini) varied wildly from lugubrious to hysterically hyperactive as the libretto’s demands twisted and turned. They were an utter delight: I only wish there had been still more of them. The translation (given on surtitles) was crisp and witty, as befits a work with such wonderful lines as ‘Am I a Prince or a Cabbage?’ and such baroque flights of fancy as a paean to a monopoly on eel fisheries.
This was a wonderful production that is wholeheartedly recommended. Go and see it: it’s on again in Oxford this Saturday, and in Edinburgh (should be in those parts) 14 and 17 Dec.
The sets were a masterpiece of efficient simplicity: spare, clear designs that nonetheless felt richly detailed. One could practically touch the dust and crumbling fittings in Don Magnifico’s palazzo, so strongly did a few well-placed features evoke faded grandeur and downright decay. A partial wall change later and we were in a gleaming marble ballroom, itself a marvellously malleable space as doors, a sweeping staircase and a throne variously appeared through the opera.
At many points in the opera the characters address themselves or the audience, rather than each other, and at these moments the lighting would change, picking out the speaker while casting the others in semi-darkness. This was a very effective device, although perhaps used once or twice to often. The choreography was detailed and varied, with never an opportunity for humour passed up. Some of the most memorable moments, however, were those that dramatised the very words of the libretto. For instance, when the leads describe how their stories are unavoidably intertwining, they danced slowly around each other intertwining limbs in ever-different combinations.
The singing was superb: all seven leads had marvellous voices. Cinderella effortlessly spanned a range from downtrodden servant to confident princess, soaring over others but never losing its wonderfully rounded tone. Prince Ramiro (Matthew Beale) darted around monstrously flamboyant arias such as ‘Si, ritrovarla, io giuro’, delighting all with immaculate leaps and improbably high trills. The two sisters were rendered ghastly by their behaviour, not their lively and responsive singing. Smug tutor Alidoro, dreadful and deluded Don Magnifico and slyly mischievous Dandini were similarly pitch-perfect in all senses. It is rare to see such a cast in which one is aware of no casting compromises.
The orchestra was similarly excellent, revelling in such a stylistically slippery opera. Special mention must go to some of the most characterful and varied continuo I have heard in a long time. The recitatives (largely written by hurriedly hired hands, not Rossini) varied wildly from lugubrious to hysterically hyperactive as the libretto’s demands twisted and turned. They were an utter delight: I only wish there had been still more of them. The translation (given on surtitles) was crisp and witty, as befits a work with such wonderful lines as ‘Am I a Prince or a Cabbage?’ and such baroque flights of fancy as a paean to a monopoly on eel fisheries.
This was a wonderful production that is wholeheartedly recommended. Go and see it: it’s on again in Oxford this Saturday, and in Edinburgh (should be in those parts) 14 and 17 Dec.