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La Cenerentola in Vicenza, ossia la beltà in trionfo Venezia
Vicenza (Teatro Olimpico)
09/12/2024 - & September 14, 15, 2024
Gioachino Rossini: La Cenerentola
Magdalena Urbanowicz (Cenerentola), Luis Magallanes (Don Ramiro), Carlo Sgura (Dandini), Giampiero delle Grazie (Don Magnifico), Silvia Porcellini (Clorinda), Caterina Dellaere (Tisbe), Huigang Liu (Alidoro)
Coro VOC’è, Laboratorio corale classico Marstro istruttore del coro, Alberto Spadarotto (Chorus Master), Orchestra dei Colli Morencini, Alessandro Vitiello (Conductor)
Bepi Morassi (Stage Director), Bruno Antonetti (Set Designs), Anna Fabris & Ester Campagnaro (Costumes)
(© Edoardo Scremin)
Less than one hour west of Venice, Vicenza has had a tradition of mounting operas with young singers in the cadre of the Vicenza in Lirica Festival. In the space of a fortnight, operas and other vocal works are performed, mostly at the amazing Teatro Olimpico. This stunning venue has also been the motivation for previous visits to Vicenza, where Italian Renaissance architect Antonio Palladio (1508‑1580) had built villas, churches and other structures that are among the most beautiful in history. The privilege of seeing a performance in this venue is in itself reason enough to be there. The enthusiasm of the young singers is an added benefit.
Rossini and Jacopo Ferretti, La Cenerentola’s librettist, opt for an Italian realistic view of the fairy tale. Their take on 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 rather 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 is no wicked stepmother either. Instead, there’s a stepfather who treats Cenerentola as a servant. As for the glass slippers, they are replaced by a pair of diamond bracelets (or diamond studded gloves in this production). Cenerentola gives the Prince one of them to identify her. To test the mettle of her stepsisters, stepfather and even Cenerentola herself, the Prince resorts to a subterfuge where he poses as his own valet, and vice versa.
Recently seen at the venerable Liceu in Barcelona in a production so hideous that I was praying for another one to erase the awful memories of director Emma Dante’s misguided atrocity. Prayer granted: I was not disappointed by what I saw and heard. In fact, this production of La Cenerentola was by far the best I have seen in over a decade. Not only is the setting of the Teatro Olimpico magical, but the staging is both intelligent and true to the innocent spirit of the fairy tale. Moreover, most of the young singers were surprisingly excellent. Prior to the performance, as the festival’s director was thanking benefactors, we learnt that no less than veteran mezzo Daniela Barcellona had spent the past two months coaching the young singers. Mystery solved.
It is hard, almost impossible, to tastefully introduce elaborate sets on the stage of Teatro Olimpico, given that Palladio’s own beautiful designs will trump them. Whatever is on stage, one’s eyes are always mesmerized by the trompe‑l’œil of infinite perspective elaborated after Palladio’s death by Vincenzo Scamozzi (1548‑1616).
Director Bepi Morassi concocted the idea of making Cenerentola’s stepfather Don Magnifico and his family a travelling artistic troupe. Not a far‑fetched idea for the impoverished nobleman. It is also plausible given the extravagant larger than life characters of Don Magnifico and his daughters Tisbe and Clorinda. For sets, set designer Bruno Antonetti imagines huge old‑style travel trunks with labels from all over the world. Each stepsister had a huge trunk that opened up into an artist’s dressing room.
Throughout the performance, the idea of ever present media was emphasized. Judging from the media chosen, cameramen and reporters with microphones, the epoch seemed to be the 1950s. Also amusing were the dance moves from that period during the ballabile passages in much of Rossini’s music, especially the ensembles.
Most impressive among the singers was Venezuelan lyric tenor Luis Magallanes. He can certainly compete with the best established Rossini tenors singing this role in major theatres. He impressed with his agile voice and ease in reaching the Rossinian high notes. Despite the toy soldier uniform he wore in his disguise as his own valet Dandini, he had good stage presence and looked dashing. His Act II aria “Si ritrovarla io giuro” was both brilliant and dramatically effective. One truly felt his earnest determination to find Cenerentola. He was truly charming is his Act I duet with Cenerentola “Un soave non so che”. One hopes to soon hear this young singer in major venues.
Though more than adequate in the role of Cenerentola, Polish mezzo Magdalena Urbanowicz was more effective dramatically. She managed to convey the character’s kindness, modesty as well as ingenuity. Vocally, she managed to project her small voice in the relatively small Teatro Olimpico, capacity 400, but one felt it was a strain. One wonders if Urbanowicz is a natural mezzo, as she felt more comfortable in the upper register, and whenever she resorted to her lower notes, it felt forced.
Nonetheless, the opera’s most popular musical excerpt, the glorious aria and rondo “Nacqui all’affanno...Non più mesta,” was delightful thanks to Urbanowicz’s charisma and director Morassi’s idea of having her singing it on top of the travelling troupe’s small stage as a heavily mediatized event. When Prince Ramiro chooses Cenerentola, the stage is buzzing with cameramen and reporters. In a volte‑face, Don Magnifico and his daughters, forcefully reconciled with Cenerentola by Ramiro, are eager to be honoured guests at Cenerentola’s engagement and to bathe in the limelight.
Italian baritone Giampiero delle Grazie was true to his role’s name: simply magnificent. Rarely have I seen a singer have so much natural stage presence and comedic verve. What is truly admirable is that he never resorted to excess to elicit laughter, which most tend to do in this buffo role. The director making Don Magnifico a travelling comedian was a brilliant idea. From the moment he stepped onstage, he seemed to channel Buster Keaton. His Act II aria, “Sia qualunche delle figlie”, was a masterclass in comic opera. The final passage sung at dizzying speed was truly amusing.
Baritone Carlo Sgura was a terrific Dandini. He seemed to have a ball impersonating Prince Ramiro. He has huge stage presence and true comic flair. His style of humour is more slapstick than delle Grazie’s more subtle brand, but it is neither excessive nor vulgar. His Act I aria, “Come un ape ne’ giorni d’aprile” was hilarious, especially its finale.
Soprano Silvia Porcellini and mezzo Caterina Dellaere as stepsisters Clorinda and Tisbe were the best I have ever seen in these roles. These roles are not too demanding vocally and are usually so exaggerated that they are almost always forgettable. This was not the case thanks to their excellent acting and the director’s instructions. The latter intelligently chose not to make them into excessively hideous creatures. Each had her own persona and despite their vile temper and obnoxiousness, one had some empathy for them. Moreover, both had good voices.
Chinese bass-baritone Huigang Liu was a very young looking Alidoro, philosopher and tutor to Prince Ramiro. He would have benefited from some makeup. Liu did the most he could with this small role.
Rossini’s opera is appropriately named La Cenerentola, ossia la bontà in trionfo: Cinderella, or the Triumph of Goodness. In this delicious production, in the most sumptuous of settings, it can be given another sobriquet, la beltà in trionfo or the Triumph of Beauty!
Ossama el Naggar
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