|
Back
An Ode to Liberty Liège
Opéra royal de Wallonie
03/12/2025 - & March 14, 16, 18*, 20, 2025
Gioachino Rossini : Guillaume Tell
Nicola Alaimo (Guillaume Tell), Salome Jicia (Mathilde), John Osborn (Arnold), Elena Galitskaya (Jemmy), Emanuela Pascu (Hedwige), Ugo Rabec (Melchtal), Patrick Bolleire (Walter Fürst), Inho Jeong (Gessler), Nico Darmanin (Ruodi, Un pêcheur), Kresimir Spicer (Rodolphe), Tomislav Lavoie (Leuthold)
Chœurs de l’Opéra Royal de Wallonie-Liège, Denis Second (chorus master), Orchestre de l’Opéra Royal de Wallonie-Liège, Stefano Montanari (conductor)
Jean-Louis Grinda (stage director), Eric Chevalier (sets), Françoise Raybaud (costumes), Laurent Castaingt (lighting), Eugénie Andrin (choreography)
J. Osborn, N. Alaimo (© Jonathan Berger/Opéra royal de Wallonie)
It’s generally acknowledged that Rossini’s final opera, Guillaume Tell (1829), is his greatest. Most unusually, Rossini declared it to be his last opera while composing it, though he was only in his thirties (he was to live nearly four more decades). This decision may explain the composer’s great efforts and superlative results. Having lived in Paris since 1824, he’d absorbed the musical trends of the city of lights, then the musical centre of the world. Guillaume Tell is indeed a grand opéra rather than a typical bel canto one. It precedes the major works in this style, such as Halévy’s La Juive (1835) and Meyerbeers’s Robert le Diable (1831), Les Huguenots (1836) and Le Prophète (1849), and hence is not an imitation of those early grand opéra works, but rather a precursor. This monumental work was to have a major influence on opera during the next fifty years. Arnold’s Act III heroic aria “Amis, amis, secondez ma vengeance,” the sequel to the famous “Asile héréditaire,” is almost certainly the model Verdi used to write his “Di quella pira” from Il trovatore (1853), and the climaxing ending of Verdi’s aria “All’armi” is identical to Rossini’s “Aux armes.”
The opera requires at least three exceptional singers in the roles of Guillaume Tell, Arnold and Mathilde. In that respect, the present production did not disappoint. Italian bass‑baritone Nicola Alaimo was an ideal William Tell. Virile and powerful, his voice was marvellously nuanced. He was also able to portray a convincing patriot, noble yet humble. What was truly astounding was his excellent diction.
The creator of the role of Arnold was none other than Adolphe Nourrit (1802‑1839), the star tenor of his day. The Act IV aria, “Asile héréditaire,” is one of the most demanding French arias for tenor, both for its technical difficulty and its stylistic demands. Thankfully, American tenor John Osborn was Arnold in this Belgian production. One of the most in demand tenors of our time, his technique is impressive and his diction amazing – no minor feat! His speciality is this exquisite nineteenth century French grand opera and Italian bel canto. Heard last summer as Eléazar in La Juive in Frankfurt and a season earlier as Polyeucte in Les Martyrs in Vienna, Osborn continues to dazzle the opera world.
Italian soprano Salome Jicia has an appealing and distinct instrument. Her rich voice is unique: her timbre is beautiful and warm, blessed with trills, and endowed with an ample vocal range. Though her French was idiomatic, it was not at par with the other two lead singers. Her Act II aria, “Sombre forêt, désert triste et sauvage,” was appropriately melancholy. Once she meets Arnold and the two confess their mutual love, Jicia is energized and in the ensuing duet, she is positively on fire, in terms of vocal energy, beauty and expressivity. Their Act II duet, “Oui, vous l’arrachez à mon âme,” was one of the evening’s most memorable moments.
Romanian mezzo Emanuela Pascu’s voice was too light for the role of Guillaume Tell’s wife Hedwige, one usually assigned to lower mezzos or contraltos. Nonetheless, she didn’t disappoint, thanks to her first‑rate acting and diction that rendered her acting even more convincing.
Russian light soprano Elena Galitskaya was a revelation in the role of Tell’s young son (yes, the one Tell is forced to shoot an apple atop his head). Her voice was perfect for this adolescent boy; she sounded and acted exactly like one. Moreover, her diction was excellent. It’s astounding to have a cast of almost entirely non‑native speakers perform such commanding French.
Even the secondary roles were well-cast and sang more than ably. Of special note was Franco‑Italian bass Ugo Rabec, portraying Melchtal, Arnold’s father. Blessed with a darkly virile voice, he deftly conveyed the character’s nobility and poise. The scene of Gessler slitting his throat at the end of Act II was disturbing, though quite effective.
Stefano Montanari led a brilliantly-paced overture, poetic in its early sections and with panache at its exuberant end. He was equally skilled in the dance interludes, but his tempi were uneven; at moments on the slow side, especially in Mathilde’s Act II “Sombres forêts” and at others he was too fast, almost frantically so. This was especially the case in the final act.
This was an almost complete Guillaume Tell. I believe some of the dances, de rigueur for the epoch in Paris, were cut, but many remained, some beautifully choreographed to resemble folkloric ones, especially those involving young children. Others were stylized, showing off some male dancers’ technical mastery. The Act III dance ordered by Gessler to force the Swiss peasants to celebrate a century of Habsburg rule was deliberately grotesque, as the unwilling Swiss were forced to dance (under threat of beating) until they collapsed one‑by‑one.
Jean-Louis Grinda’s staging, while unoriginal, eloquently narrated the story in a straightforward manner. Canvases showing the Swiss mountains and lakes are a pale copy of that Alpine country’s towering nature. Much more could have been done (possibly with projections and videography) to imbue this grand opera with nature’s grandeur. At the end of Act I, Leuthold, who’d killed an Austrian soldier while defending his daughter’s honour, flees Gessler with Tell on a boat. Sadly, this crucial scene was underwhelming, as it needed the backdrop of a majestic lake to be effective. Again, the director was not thinking logically, leaving the audience no doubt somewhat bewildered. Likewise, the absence of dramatic imagery in Act IV, where Tell manages to row the boat to safety in menacingly stormy weather, diminished dramatic possibilities.
Despite the dull staging, this production was a triumph thanks to its excellent singers and Rossini’s enduringly glorious music. Even his detractors, put off by the pyrotechnics that typify his operas, ought to explore this, his ultimate opera, which is more related to Verdi’s masterpiece Don Carlos (1867) than to his own Il barbiere di Siviglia (1816). Despite the paucity of its live performances, I hope to experience fresh productions of this somewhat neglected masterpiece in future.
Ossama el Naggar
|
