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The Preacher’s Adulterous Wife Verona
Teatro Filarmonico
10/27/2024 - & October 29, 31, November 3, 2024
Giuseppe Verdi : Stiffelio
Luciano Ganci*/Stefano Secco (Stiffelio), Caterina Marchesini*/Daniela Schillaci (Lina), Vladimir Stoyanov (Shankar), Carlo Raffaeli (Raffaele), Gabriele Sagona (Jorg), Francesco Pittari (Federico), Sara Rossini (Dorotea)
Coro della Fondazione Arena di Verona, Roberto Gabbiani (Chorus Master), Orchestra della Fondazione Arena di Verona, Leonardo Sini (Conductor)
Guy Montavon (Stage Director & Lighting), Francesco Calcagnini (Sets & Costumes)
(© EnneviFoto)
Verdi’s early operas are of variable quality. Some, such as Oberto (1839), Un giorno di regno (1840) and Alzira (1845) are forgettable. But two in particular, Ernani (1844) and Macbeth (1847), are masterpieces. Composed between Luisa Miller (1849) and his huge hit Rigoletto (1851), Stiffelio (1850) is from the composer’s middle period. Despite some beautiful arias and several memorable scenes, it compares unfavourably with the master’s other works of the period. The problem is the libretto, based on a now mercifully forgotten French play Le Pasteur, ou l’Evangile et le Foyer (1849). It was Francesco Maria Piave (1810‑1876), who wrote the libretti of many of Verdi’s operas, namely Ernani (1844), I due Foscari (1844), Attila (1846), Macbeth (1847), Il Corsaro (1848), Stiffelio (1850), Rigoletto (1851), La traviata (1853), Simon Boccanegra (1857), Aroldo (1857) and La forza del destino (1862), who unfortunately recommended the French play.
The play’s subject, infidelity and the betrayed’s choice between vengeance and forgiveness, was an innovative, realistic and valid one. The problem was the unlikely setting: a Protestant community near Salzburg, Austria. Firstly, Salzburg is overwhelmingly Catholic, and secondly, the public in Catholic Trieste, where the opera was premiered, was not familiar with Protestants and could not identify with the title role, a Protestant preacher. As the subject of religion was taboo on stage, the censor demanded changes that further weakened the opera and contributed to its lack of success.
The plot revolves around Stiffelio, a Protestant preacher who returns to his community from a mission. He learns from the castle’s boatman that he witnessed a man jump from the balcony of an unidentified woman’s room of Count Stankar’s castle, where the preacher resides with his wife Lina, the Count’s daughter. While jumping, the culprit dropped his wallet, which in turn was given to the preacher. Stiffelio refuses to know the identity of the culprit and burns the wallet and its contents. Lina is relieved, as she is the unfaithful woman from whose bedroom the unknown man, Count Raffaele, had jumped.
Count Stankar witnesses his guilt-ridden daughter write a confession to her husband. He rebukes her and demands that she keep silent. Count Raffaele and Lina had agreed to exchange messages inside a locked copy of Klopstock’s Messiah in the library. Stiffelio plans to read from that book during his sermon but is told that Lina has the key. Furiously, he breaks the lock to find a letter which Count Stankar abruptly destroys before Stiffelio can read it.
In Act II, Lina goes to her mother’s grave to pray for forgiveness. Count Raffaele has followed her, as has her father. When Count Stankar challenges Count Raffaele to a duel, Stiffelio intervenes to prevent bloodshed. Count Stankar reveals that Raffaele and Lina are the unknown adulterers. An enraged Stiffelio is prevented from action by being summoned to give his sermon in church. As he swears revenge, his old mentor Jorg reminds him that Christ forgave all humanity from the Cross. The act ends with Stiffelio fainting.
In Act III, Raffaele returns to Count Shankar’s castle. Stiffelio asks him to overhear his conversation with Lina in an adjacent room. Stiffelio offers his wife a divorce, which she reluctantly accepts. Count Shankar then announces he has killed Raffaele. The congregation meets at church and Stiffelio opens the Bible to a random page for God to guide him in his sermon. The page is none other than the story of the adulterous woman. After reading that Christ forgave the adulterous woman, he in turn forgives his wife.
Director Guy Montavon valiantly attempted to give life to this exceptionally dry plot. Francesco Calcagnini’s austere sets evoked Jean Calvin’s harsh reign in sixteenth century Geneva (oddly enough the stage director’s birthplace). Nothing in the staging managed to make the characters more sympathetic, but this was likely Montavon’s intent. Through the austere sets in shades of black and grey, a psychological paroxysm was created, rendering Raffaele’s murder an enviable outcome compared to Lina being forgiven by her husband. Given the opera’s plot, Montavon’s vision was an effective one.
By far the weakest part of the opera is its opening overture, replete with the um‑pa‑pa beat Verdi favoured in his earlier days, but mercifully abandoned mid‑career. Alas, conductor Leonardo Sini accentuated this reprehensible beat, and one could imagine being in a park listening to a bombastic local band. After the first scene, the music mercifully improves, though it remains variable throughout. Often evoking Donizetti-inspired early Verdi, there are also moments of grace foreshadowing the superior style of his middle period.
The greatest triumph of this production lay in its choice of excellent singers. Recently heard in Macbeth in Parma and in Don Carlo in Düsseldorf, Italian tenor Luciano Ganci was an excellent choice for the title role. His virile tenor has a pleasant distinctive timbre that shows no sign of stress in the many dramatic passages. In fact, he shone in these dramatic moments. Not a particularly subtle actor, he chose to play Stiffelio as a man ruled by passion rather than religious vocation. This choice rendered his forgiveness at the opera’s conclusion more powerful.
Despite the relative weakness of the work, Lina is a luminous spinto role that some see as a precursor to the two Leonoras (Il trovatore, La forza del destino). Caterina Marchesini was a revelation in the role. This twenty-six-year-old soprano has a distinct and beautiful voice, with superlative technique and ample charisma. Her Act I aria, the prayer “A te ascenda, o Dio clemente” was delightfully moving, managing to convey Lina’s torment. Her passionate Act II scene “Ah, dagli scanni eterei”, in typical bel canto style, was masterfully interpreted.
Veteran Bulgarian baritone Vladimir Stoyanov is still at the height of his powers, elegant in style and with an overwhelming stage presence. Much‑admired just days ago in La battaglia di Legnano at Parma’s Verdi Festival, Stoyanov expertly portrayed Count Stankar. It’s notable that Stiffelio is one of three consecutive operas by Verdi where the father-daughter relationship is pivotal (the other two are Luisa Miller and Rigoletto). His Act III aria, “Lina, pensai che un angelo,” was commandingly effective, making one wish his role was more substantive. The supporting roles were well sung, but clearly Verdi was then in a phase of experimentation, and therefore these roles weren’t sufficiently developed.
Despite the relative weakness of this opera, it’s still a rare and worthwhile experience for lovers of Verdi to experience one of the master’s more obscure works, especially supported by an excellent cast and in a staging that’s faithful to the spirit of the opera.
Ossama el Naggar
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