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09/29/2025
Gaetano Donizetti: Lucie de Lammermoor
Caterina Sala (Lucie), Patrick Kabongo (Edgard Ravenswood), Vito Priante (Henri Ashton), David Astorga (Gilbert), Roberto Lorenzi (Raimond), Julien Henric (Lord Arthur Bucklaw), Coro dell’Accademia Teatro alla Scala, Salvo Sgrò (chorus master), Orchestra Gli Originali, Pierre Dumoussaud (conductor)
Recording (live): Teatro Sociale, Bergamo (1 December 2023) – 125’04
2 CDs Naxos 8.660578-79 – Book in English, Libretto in French and English (accessed online)
Once she had gone mad for the first time in 1835, Donizetti’s Lucia has never quite gone out of fashion, given a relatively fallow inter‑War period. Or should I say Lucie, as this new recording is of the opera’s French version, revised by the composer in 1839 for Paris and which he rewrote to satisfy that audience’s taste. Lucia becomes Lucie, her companion Alisa goes missing altogether, and Normanno turns into a character called Gilbert, a larger role and more interesting manipulative schemer. So, automatically, there is inherent interest in this recording, not least as it captures a performance from the Donizetti Opera Festival in Bergamo, the composer’s birthplace.
The resulting performance is what one might describe as solid, a polite way of saying it possesses both good and bad elements. Pierre Dumoussaud conducts with drive, at times too much so, but he does keep things on the go. The orchestra, using original instruments, is often wayward. The opening horns are wavering and remain so throughout: in fact, they are so woozy by the final scene that they conjure an atmosphere of inebriation. The blend of instruments is clumsy. Donizetti’s orchestral scoring, which often pulses between instruments across phrases, is repeatedly awkward and jerky. But the chorus is strong and gets on with the job in hand with gusto.
The opera generally rests on the soprano in the title role. Caterina Sala is a young singer whose career is taking off rather nicely. Whilst I am not curmudgeonly enough to deny her any success, I am slightly mystified. She sings with confidence and certainly has all the notes. Her coloratura is good with particularly fleet runs in the Mad Scene, though she lacks a real trill. But, whilst critics often bemoan the lack of personality in modern voices, I am now going to be contrary and say that although Sala’s soprano is individual I just don’t much like it. What starts as a pleasingly sweet tone with an almost old‑fashioned quiver becomes quite a shriek when pushed, and at times headachy. She phrases neatly but there is not much imagination to her interpretation and her French is cloudy. The famous cadenza, simpler but not simple in the Paris version, somehow drifts. Sala is seemingly at the verge of a good career – she is a contestant in the forthcoming Operalia 2025. What can I say? I hope she proves me wrong and scores a success.
Her Edgard, Patrick Kabongo, is more idiomatic. He has a mellifluous tenor, light and bright, and his diction is clarity personified. The lighter reaches of the role fit him wonderfully: he copes well when pushed and even throws in some higher variants, but at the moment I would rather hear him as Nemorino or Ernesto than anything much heavier. But he is a class act.
Likewise Vito Priante as Henri, doing baddie duties to the manner born. His baritone has good spin and character. David Astorga makes the most of Gilbert, a sort of prototype to Paolo in Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra, himself a foreshadow of Iago. Roberto Lorenzi’s Raimond is good. The sound is quite bright, overly so at climaxes, and the singers closely miked, you can hear Sala draw breath.
If you wandered into the opera house on the off‑chance of an evening’s entertainment, I suspect you would be perfectly happy, though the performance is also available on film and viewing it did not change my mind: if anything, I liked it less. As a contender in a field of Lucias it is a definite no. In the miniscule field of Lucies, I would opt for the 2002 recording starring Natalie Dessay and Roberto Alagna, which is still available (Virgin Classics).
Francis Muzzu
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