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Kataeva, the damsel of Seville Pesaro
Vitrifrigo Arena
08/10/2024 - & August 15*, 18, 20, 2024
Gioachino Rossini: Il barbiere di Siviglia, ossia L’inutile precauzione
Jack Swanson (Il Conte Almaviva), Andrzej Filonczyk (Figaro), Maria Kataeva (Rosina), Carlo Lepore (Don Bartolo), Michele Pertusi (Basilio), Patrizia Biccirè (Berta), William Corrò (Fiorello)
Coro del Teatro Ventidio Basso, Giovanni Farina (chorus master), Orchestra Sinfonica G. Rossini, Lorenzo Passerini (conductor), Michele D’Elia (pianoforte), Eugenio Della Chiara (guitar)
Pier Luigi Pizzi (stage director, sets & costumes), Massimo Gasparon (assistant stage director & lighting)
M. Kataeva (© Amati Bacciardi)
Earlier this year, I had the pleasure of seeing this very production by Pier Luigi Pizzi at Parma’s Teatro Regio. Three of the roles were sung by the same artists: Russian mezzo Maria Kataeva as Rosina, Polish baritone Andrzej Filonczyk as Figaro and Italian William Corrò as Fiorello.
The production, both in Parma and Pesaro, exceeded expectations, thanks to a mostly ideal cast, and to the creative genius of the ninety-three-year-old director. This stage veteran perfectly understands and loves opera. He doesn’t resort to foolish ideas such as changing the epoch and setting, or by introducing an altogether new plot. Unlike others, Pizzi believes in opera and trusts the composer’s original intentions. After all, these works have stood the test of time for good reasons.
A true creative mind, Pizzi is also a highly-cultured man blessed with good taste, whose imprimatur even reaches to set and costume designs. As is often the case, in this production he has opted for black and white sets, ensuring that actors and costumes would stand out. Cesare Sterbini (1784‑1831), librettist of Rossini’s comedic masterpiece, was an exceptional one, for the action is concise, the humour abundant and the interaction between the characters dynamic. By simply following the libretto, even a half‑decent director can succeed brilliantly. In Pizzi’s hands, the comedy flows naturally and all the characters, even the more villainous ones, are well‑defined and sympathetic.
In Act I, Count Almaviva tells Figaro that he noticed a lovely girl from Seville in Court in the Spanish capital and is in town to pursue her (“Al Prado vidi un fior di bellezza, una fanciulla figlia d’un certo medico barbogio”). Accordingly, this Madrileno nobleman rents a home in Seville, facing Don Bartolo’s, to plot his conquest. Emphasizing this enterprising spirit reveals a Count that is plausible in La Folle Journée ou Le Mariage de Figaro (1778) by Pierre de Beaumarchais (1732‑1799), the sequel to Le Barbier de Séville (1775). Given the proximity of his rented house to Rosina’s, the serenade and the flirtation through the window all seem natural.
Russian mezzo Maria Kataeva was a brilliant Rosina, feminine, charming and mischievous. She also managed to convey the character’s relative inexperience and vulnerability, traits necessary to explain her volte‑ face when she is tricked into believing that her beau Lindoro was seducing her on the behalf of another, Count Almaviva. Her rich mezzo conveyed the character’s coy and coquettish aspects. Her interpretation has even improved since the Parma performance. Her first aria, the Act I “Una voce poco fa,” was not only technically flawless, but an exercise in charm and coquettishness. Highly-acclaimed in recital at last year’s edition of the Pesaro Rossini Opera Festival (ROF), Maria Kataeva is likely to become a favourite both here and in major theatres. Kataeva has the rare capacity of playing coy without a trace of vulgarity. Her Act II lesson aria, “Contro un cor,” was more electrifying, both for vocal virtuosity and theatricality, aided by Pizzi’s mise en scène with a trio of buffoons: a sleepy and pedantic Don Bartolo; a jack‑in‑the‑box Don Alonso, a.k.a. Lindoro, a.k.a. Count Almaviva, springing up to normal height when Don Bartolo doses off; and a playful Fiorello disguised as an accompanist (on the cello, no less).
It happens that some baritones mistakenly think that as it’s the title role, Figaro is the most important character, yet nothing could be farther from the truth. When Figaro takes too much space, the comedic verve feels forced, and the dramatic tension inevitably fails. The dramatic success of Rossini’s masterpiece is dependent on the equilibrium of the triangle of Almaviva-Rosina-Figaro. Rosina and Count Almaviva are the lovers and hence the heroes of the story. Figaro is the astute facilitator. Happily, both director Pizzi and Filonczyk understand this crucial fact.
Polish baritone Andrzej Filonczyk was an even better Figaro than in this same production in Parma in January. His high baritone is ideally suited to the role. From his first entrance onstage, he was in resounding voice. The staging has him partially undress to freshen up in a public fountain. This doesn’t affect his elegant and secure singing. His impeccably sung “Largo al factotum” was fortunately devoid of excess, a recurring problem with most Figari. He used this signature aria to convey who Figaro is, an astute jack‑of‑all‑trades. His chemistry with Rosina was palpable, but less so with Almaviva.
All three major characters were sung by non‑Italians: a Russian, an American and a Pole. Maria Kataeva and Andrzej Filonczyk had excellent diction, Swenson less so. The latter was more than adequate, but compared to his two co‑stars and especially in the company of veteran Italian singers like Carlo Lepore and Michele Pertusi, it did not go unnoticed. Despite ample stage presence, the imposing American tenor lacked the aristocratic deportment of a nobleman. Though the timbre of his voice is appealing, his voice itself is small, with a tight vibrato that did not project well in the relatively large Vitrifrigo Arena.
A retired mezzo whom I had the pleasure of chatting with at intermission lamented that in earlier days, Rosina used to be the star of the show. The virtuosity of the vocal writing of “Una voce poco fa” and the coquettishness of the character give Rosina preeminence. Ever since the reestablishment of “Cessa di più resistere” as the opera’s final aria, Almaviva usually steals the show. Alas, this was not the case in this performance. The aria’s cabaletta “Ah il più lieto, il più felice,” almost invariably the evening’s most exciting moment, elicited lukewarm applause.
As is often the case, Don Bartolo, Rosina’s guardian who schemes to marry her for her dowry, was the most amusing character on stage. Thanks to Pizzi’s brilliant direction, Carlo Lepore elicited laughter throughout his performance, without ever resorting to predictable buffoonery. Pizzi formulated the idea of having Bartolo roll his Rs like the French. It was clear this was an affectation, as he did away with it when he sang some rapidly pronounced lines. This mannerism, most likely to indicate superior rank, made Bartolo appropriately pedantic and overbearing, the essence of the old man’s character.
Italian bass Michele Pertusi was an unusually jolly Don Basilio rather than the usually slimy cleric. His was a refreshing interpretation of a role invariably made into a parody. His Act I aria “La calunnia” was brilliantly interpreted, thanks to his deep basso profondo as well as his excellent diction and acting. The two minor characters of Berta and Fiorello were well‑cast. Italian soprano Patrizia Biccirè masterfully portrayed a homely and frustrated housekeeper, desperate to find a husband. Her Act II aria “Il vecchiotto cerca moglie” was amusing and well sung. Italian bass‑baritone William Corrò was a deluxe Fiorello, with abundant charisma and a robust voice. Corrò managed to make his minor role stand out, especially in the Act II lesson scene where he brilliantly participated in light‑hearted buffoonery.
Rossini famously recycled his own music. Even Il barbiere di Siviglia’s glorious overture is borrowed from his opera Elisabetta, Regina d’Inghilterra (1815) and a still earlier opera Aureliano in Palmira (1813). Despite being frequently performed, the score of Il barbiere di Siviglia remains deliciously original. Conductor Lorenzo Passerini opted for fast tempi that at times did not favour the singers. Though some conductors feel that speed augments the frenzy of Rossini’s comedies, it is the variation in tempi rather than constant velocity that enhances the action.
Pizzi astutely chose to make money the opera’s leitmotif. This is appropriate, as Figaro describes Don Bartolo to Almaviva in Act I as an avaricious man, “Un vecchio indemoniato avaro, sospettoso, brontolone... Per mangiare a Rosina tutta l’eredità, s’è fitto in capo di volerla sposare... aiuto!” Figaro is obviously an eager and avid man, as his duet with Almaviva clearly conveys: “All’idea di quel metallo portentoso, onnipossente.” Almaviva has plenty of money and will distribute it freely if it facilitates gaining Rosina. He gives some to the musicians hired to serenade her, and plenty to Figaro for his help in his amorous endeavours. He also bribes Don Basilio to betray Don Bartolo and to be a witness to his betrothal. Finally, he relinquishes Rosina’s dowry to Don Bartolo. At the opera’s conclusion, all celebrate harmoniously around the dinner table, marking a jovial conclusion to an opera that continues to be funny – thanks here to Pizzi’s deftly subtle staging – after countless viewings.
Ossama el Naggar
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