Santuzza in stilettos, Canio on TV

This piece is also posted (with small edits) on my webpage at http://seenandheard-international.com/tag/jiten-s-merchant/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).

Opera in Mumbai used to be a rare phenomenon, occurring once in a very great while. However, thanks to the opera-centric management at the city’s National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA) and its world-class orchestra-in-residence, the Symphony Orchestra of India, it is now relatively frequent, with new productions being staged for limited runs every two years or so.

Since Mumbai lacks an opera-company, productions are imported in varying degree; and this latest offering of "Cavalleria Rusticana" and "Pagliacci" came from South America, complete with sets. As such, it minimised the Indian contribution to a few members of the orchestra (most of whom are, again, “imported”), some choristers and extras. It had a run of three performances, of which this reviewer caught the first and the last.

Opening-night was fraught with problems. For one thing, the interval lasted 75 minutes, owing to the elaborate set-change. The truth is, the Jamshed Bhabha Theatre has limited space around the stage; so large sets cannot be wheeled on and off; and have to be struck and mounted in situ. The subsequent performances saw a progressive reduction in this inordinate delay, down to about 50 minutes.

In "Cavalleria", mezzo-soprano Elena Bocharova as Santuzza was apparently unwell on opening night; and decided not to attempt any high notes after the Easter Hymn, singing them an octave lower. Wearing what looked like diamond ear-studs, a pearl or coral necklace and a pair of bright and shiny patent-leather stilettos, it seemed as though a member of the audience had lost her way onto the stage. And there was nothing in her performance that conveyed more than cursory emotional involvement with the predicament of this supposedly poor, simple village-girl.

Her Turiddu was slightly better. Giancarlo Monsalve had the looks and physical presence; but his vocalism was heavy-handed, needing a “leg-up” to reach the high notes; his tone an ill-focussed spread. Even so, he managed a surprisingly proficient account of his final Addio alla Madre.

The others saved the day. Gevorg Hakobyan’s Alfio was alpha-male in his swagger and robust tone, though somewhat cavalier with note-values during Il cavallo scalpita. Marianna Vinci was spot-on as Lola, though clotted below the stave; and Chiara Fracasso gave probably the finest performance in the cast as Mamma Lucia, note-perfect in a finely-shaded, idiomatic characterisation.

Ms Bocharova was replaced after opening-night by soprano Chiara Angella, who had no problems with the role’s high tessitura and wore much more sensible footwear. She did, however, have a wide and pronounced vibrato. Even so, her sheer involvement and innate musicality paid immense dividends during Voi lo sapete and the duet with Turiddu, ending in a hair-raising “Bada!” and curse.

Mickael Spadaccini sang Turiddu on the last night and his interpretation was “softer” than the animal-like quality of Monsalve; his vocalism followed suit with sensitive phrasing, though not always perfectly-rounded in tone.

In Pagliacci, tenor Francesco Anile proved himself to be very much a singer’s singer, allowing the pathos and passion in the music to express itself (à la Björling) without resorting to bathetic boo-hooing or savage shouting. Possessing a relatively small but evenly-produced voice, his high notes were laser-sharp, cutting through orchestral tutti with ease. Acting-wise, he erred on the side of economy, conveying Canio’s extremis simply but effectively. However, the final stabbing of Nedda and Silvio could have been much more crazed and vicious; here it barely registered on the audience.

Sabina Cvilak, as Nedda, was secure and powerful above the stave; and threw herself into her part with convincing abandon. Although she was occasionally inaudible in the lower passaggio (but with strong chest-notes) her musicality was unimpeachable, with ravishing pianissimi in her duet with Silvio, where baritone Javier Arrey was also superbly lyrical and offered a moving rendition of his brief solo.

Silvio Zanon’s harder, gleaming baritone suited Tonio perfectly. Though slightly strained by the Prologue’s top notes, he gave a vivid musico-dramatic characterisation of the hunchback, reaching its peak in the fiery exchange with Nedda. In contrast, he showed a real flair for comedy during the antics of Scene 2, in which Filippo Adami sang Beppe’s little solo in full voice with insouciant ease; and moved with great agility.

If "Cav and Pag" are said to be twins, they could hardly be more dissimilar than in this production. Here, "Cavalleria" was played on an exquisitely-detailed set of a Sicilian village-piazza; beautiful but shrouded in a near-perpetual twilight through which the Sicilian sun shone only intermittently. "Pagliacci", interestingly, was set in a TV studio from the early 60s, with professional cameras “shooting” the action in black and white, displayed on a screen at the back. A large neon-sign announced “23 ORE” as the title of the show in which Canio’s troupe was slated to perform; and the chorus became the studio-audience. The show itself, in Scene 2 of the opera, was a circus-style extravaganza complete with acrobats, while the preceeding intimate scenes were performed “off-camera” in a dressing-room and the empty studio.

Director Willy Landin’s imagination had obviously run riot, offering a thoroughly riveting “modern” mise-en-scène of "Pagliacci", albeit with a few minor inconsistencies. It was difficult to accept that the same director was responsible for the somewhat four-square "Cavalleria" earlier that evening!

Landin’s forte was the interaction between principal characters, brilliantly realised in both operas, especially "Pagliacci" in its switching back-and-forth between reality and Commedia dell’Arte. The chorus were given little attention in "Cavalleria", being made to walk around in slow-motion or strike stilted poses in groups, without much sense of “character” or involvement (where were their wine-glasses during the Brindisi?). In "Pagliacci", however, they remained happily seated until called-upon to react, in time to the music.

This amalgamation of choirs, though satisfyingly full-voiced, lacked the agility of a true operatic chorus, being somewhat sluggish in its response to the dynamics of music-drama; and unable to adapt to sudden changes in tempo. As a result, there were major imprecisions in ensemble with the orchestra, under both conductors.

Antonello Allemandi conducted opening-night con brio….to a fault. The orchestra was king, playing with full-blooded attack and burnished tone; the conductor seeming to revel in the amplitude of its sound at the expense of those singers who were unable to cut through it. His tempi were generally fast, making for a thrilling listen but also the occasional Runaway Train, when singers were unable to keep-up.

Resident-maestro Zane Dalal was, on the other hand, more responsive to the lyricism in both scores, keeping passion in its place. From the very first, meltingly-beautiful notes of the Prelude to "Cavalleria", it was clear this was going to be an utterly musical, elegant reading of the operas. He conducted with a firm, clear downbeat, in sync with variations in rhythm (for example, the heady swirl of Nedda’s Balatella) and highlighting inner voices with tender clarity. Climaxes, when they occurred, had requisite weight and volume, if not quite the visceral slam conjured by Maestro Allemandi.

The semi-covered pit of the JBT was perhaps responsible for amplifying the orchestral sound to a point where only the most securely-produced voices were able to ride it successfully; and this was evident at three differently-located seats, in an auditorium notorious for its unpredictable acoustics.

This, along with technical limitations and logistical problems, makes staging opera a difficult proposition in this city. Mumbai’s NCPA has a few more lessons to learn; but, with experience and international support, it might well become a major operatic centre in this part of the world.