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La Cenerentola, ossia Ponnelle in trionfo Düsseldorf
Deutsche Oper am Rhein
01/30/2025 - & February 2, 9, 15, 23, March 19*, 28, 2025
Gioachino Rossini: La Cenerentola
Maria Kataeva*/Svetlina Stoyanova (Cenerentola), César Cortés (Don Ramiro), Jorge Espino/Ilya Lapich/Jake Muffett* (Dandini), Günes Gürle (Don Magnifico), Mara Guseynova/Elena Sancho Pereg* (Clorinda), Kimberley Boettger-Soller*/Katarzyna Wlodarczyk (Tisbe), Chao Deng*/Zilvinas Miskinis/Adrian Sâmpetrean/Luke Stoker (Alidoro)
Herrenchor der Deutschen Oper am Rhein, Patrick Francis Chestnut (Chorus Master), Dagmar Thelen (Harpsichord), Düsseldorfer Symphoniker, Katharina Müllner (Conductor)
Jean-Pierre Ponnelle (Stage Director, Set Designs & Costumes), Volker Weinhart (Lighting)
M. Kataeva (© Hans Jörg Michel)
For their opera La Cenerentola, Rossini, with his librettist Jacopo Ferretti, sought to render a realistic Italian view of the fairy tale. Their interpretation of the iconic tale of Cinderella is bereft of fairy godmother, magic carriage or glass slippers. Some maintain it’s thanks to the Enlightenment that this tale, beloved by children for centuries, had by Rossini’s time become more rational. However, I believe the explanation lies in the culture. Mediterranean children’s tales traditionally inculcate valour, honour, honesty and pragmatism rather than the supernatural. Dragons and fairies dwell more comfortably in the mist and cold than under the warm rays of the sun.
In lieu of the fairy godmother, Rossini’s opera has Alidoro, the Prince’s tutor, who poses as a beggar to be chased away by Cenerentola’s stepsisters, but he’s given food and coffee by the kind maiden. This is how Alidoro discovers the girl’s goodness, deems her a good potential bride for Prince Ramiro and decides to help her win his heart. There’s no wicked stepmother either. Instead, there’s a stepfather who treats Cenerentola as a servant. As for the glass slippers, they’re replaced by a pair of diamond bracelets (gem‑studded gloves in this production). Cenerentola gives one to the Prince to identify her. To test the mettle of her stepsisters, stepfather and Cenerentola herself, the Prince resorts to a subterfuge where he poses as his own valet, and vice versa.
I’ve seen variants of this production by the late French director Jean-Pierre Ponnelle (1932‑1988) in several other venues. His conception is faithful to Rossini’s intention of creating a fairytale for children as well as adults, eschewing the comedic excesses resorted to by many directors. Ponnelle, who also designed the sets and costumes, created a living fairy tale, despite the absence of magic in this Italian telling. The delightful film version (1983) featuring Frederica von Stade, Francisco Araiza and Paolo Montarsolo, based on the 1973 La Scala production, is for many aficionados engraved in memory.
The secret to the charm and lightness of Ponnelle’s staging is his avoidance of comedic excess, making the opera a charming romantic story and enhancing true humour. Nothing kills comedy faster than this all‑too‑ubiquitous buffoonery, which happily does not plague this production.
Russian mezzo Maria Kataeva is the rising Rossini mezzo of our time and my motivation to visit Düsseldorf. Admired last season in the same role in Barcelona, for Emma Dante’s truly hideous production (the antithesis of Ponnelle’s), here Kataeva excelled in her interpretation. Düsseldorf’s superlative production certainly helped. In less than a year, she’s transformed into a better actress with markedly improved diction. She’s endowed with an exceptionally dark mezzo, with an appealing hue of contralto. Hers is a voice with truly distinct colouring, and blessed with natural trills.
First heard in recital two summers ago at the Rossini Opera Festival (ROF) at Pesaro, it was clear Kataeva would establish herself as a leading Rossini mezzo. Last season, I had the pleasure of hearing her Rosina in Il barbiere di Siviglia in Parma, and more recently at the last edition of ROF. As with her Angelina (Cenerentola), a notable improvement was noted in the space of seven months. Kataeva is not only talented but also a fast learner.
The opera’s most popular musical excerpt, the glorious aria and rondo “Nacqui all’affanno...Non più mesta,” was delightful thanks not only to Kataeva’s brilliant vocal prowess, but also for her ability to portray a modest, kind, yet strong-willed Angelina. At the ball at the end of Act I, she dazzled in a spectacularly elegant black dress, and mesmerized us with an equally elegant white dress at the end of Act II. Her transformation into the woman who’s to wed the prince came as no surprise, for, thanks to her demeanour and deportment, she was already aristocratic when in rags.
Colombia’s César Cortés was a revelation. His light lyric tenor was perfect for the role, as was his virile demeanour and charm. His deportment was aristocratic even when impersonating his own valet, and he was charm personified for Act I’s duet with Cenerentola, “Un soave non so che.” His Act II aria, “Si ritrovarla io giuro” was brilliantly rendered, with impressive high notes in the cabaletta.
Turkish baritone Günes Gürle was true to his role’s name: simply magnificent. His Don Magnifico was both funny and touching. Despite this step‑father’s cruelty to Angelina, Gürle was able to convey the character’s pathos and one had sympathy for the decrepit fallen nobleman. Thanks to his natural comedic verve, he was truly funny, despite playing his role with poise. Indeed, by keeping a straight face, his earnest eagerness elicited laughter. Endowed with a powerfully virile voice, he impressed in his Act II aria, “Sia qualunche delle figlie,” thanks to his comedic touch and the dizzying speed of the aria’s finale.
British baritone Jake Muffett, the valet Dandini, seemed to have a ball impersonating Prince Ramiro. Thanks to his stage presence and true comic flair, he elicited a lot of laughter, whether in the first act, when he started his stunt as Ramiro and made fun of Don Magnifico and his daughters (“son tutte papa...talis patris, talem filias” and “vere figure etrusche”), or when he revealed his identity to the old fool in the Act II duet “Un segreto d’importanza”. His Act I aria, “Come un ape ne’ giorni d’aprile” was hilarious, especially its finale.
The stepsisters Clorinda and Thisbe were convincingly performed by Spanish soprano Elena Sancho Pereg and German mezzo Kimberley Boettger-Soller respectively. These roles are not too demanding vocally and are usually so exaggerated they become instantly forgettable. Not so in Ponnelle’s production, where they are neither monstrous creatures or buffoonish clowns. Instead, they’re outwardly pretty, betraying an interior ugliness. They are at turns pompous, vain and short-tempered. Moreover, both had strong voices, employed effectively in the ensemble passages at the end of Act I, “Parlar, pensar, vorrei.” Pereg impressed in the high coloratura role of Fiakermilli in Christof Loy’s superb production of Arabella in Madrid two seasons ago. Chinese bass-baritone Chao Deng was Alidoro, philosopher and tutor to Prince Ramiro, and made the most of this small role.
Conductor Katharina Müllner was a paragon of poise, eschewing the tendency to play Rossini at high speed. The overture was a delight as it slowly reached its finale with panache instead of premature frenzied tempi that can render later acceleration heavy‑handed. The prolonged applause for Müllner confirmed the public’s appreciation for her command of the orchestra.
Despite having premiered a half century ago, Ponnelle’s La Cenerentola remains this opera’s best production. It’s admirable that Oper am Rhein has lovingly preserved it, continuing to delight new audiences.
Rossini’s opera is appropriately named La Cenerentola, ossia la bontà in trionfo (“Cinderella, or the Triumph of Goodness”). In this delightful and venerable production, it can be given another sobriquet: Ponnelle in trionfo!
Ossama el Naggar
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