Vincenzo Bellini: I Capuleti e i Montecchi . Joyce DiDonato, Nicole Cabell, Eric Owens, Saimir Pirgu, Ao Li; SFO Orchestra: Riccardo Frizza, cond.; SFO Chorus: Ian Robertson, dir.; Frank Zamacona, screen dir.
I missed San Francisco Opera's production of I Capuleti e i Montecchi (The Capulets and the Montagues) when it played the War Memorial in 2012. There was some regret at not hearing mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato as Romeo and lyric soprano Nicole Cabell, in her company debut, as Giuletta, but I figured I would get over it. The lukewarm reviews for Vincent Broussard's reportedly sluggish staging and drab sets by designer Vincent Lemaire made the loss easier, even if everyone seemed unanimously enthusiastic about the musical performance.
Well, bel canto opera is really about the singing, and now, with the release of the SFO Broussard production on EuroArts DVD and Blu-ray, those of us who didn't see the production live can make their own evaluation of the passionate and annoyingly static staging. The director's concept is muddled and the look is dreary, but not enough to detract from the thrilling performance by the singers and orchestra. Conductor Riccardo Frizza has confident control throughout, and we can get a visual kick enjoying the weirdly attractive costume designs by legendary French couturier Christian Lacroix.
Anyone expecting a Shakespearean scenario should be warned: there are some major shifts in dramatic emphasis in Felice Romani's libretto. The lovers have already met and are already in love, but are still kept apart by the hatred between their families. The warring clans of the title, and especially the bitterness of Giuletta's father, set the fatal seal on their tragic affair.
When they do find some time alone, they are more concerned with the conflict of their relationship than lovemaking. Each of them seems wretchedly isolated, and Broussard emphasizes their personal struggles with stylized movement and some truly bizarre marks. Giuletta sings her opening romance standing on a sink in her bedroom while reaching for a statue.
The more accustomed story is outlined in the flow of Bellini's wonderful melodies with exquisite solos and duets (but tellingly, no real love duet) and stirring writing for male chorus. Forget the lack of a ball or balcony scene, and settle in for a satisfying wallow in terrific singing with some splendid orchestral accompaniment. DiDonato possesses a voice and coloratura so effortless and beautiful we almost forget how much expert technique she employs. Her Romeo is not only believable, but also a pleasure to hear. The matching of her rich tone with Cabell's firm soprano marked by beautifully nuanced phrasing brings the temperature to fever pitch whenever they share the stage, and thankfully, that is often and prolonged.
The rest of the cast make the most of their moments. Popular bass-baritone Eric Owens is commanding in the relatively small role of Giuletta's father Capellio. Tenor Saimir Pirgu as Tebaldo is stretched in the upper reaches of his voice, but makes the notes and manages to sound exciting and steady. Baritone Ao Li as the physician Lorenzo is also excellent.
The stage pictures are undeniably interesting and often striking. The bonus interviews help explain Broussard's intentions, even if Lacroix's costumes still trump his imagery. A stage-full of non-singing female chorus members, all looking like Helena Bonham Carter on the red carpet (with large flowers stuffed in their mouths yet), and men dressed in stovepipe hats and frock coats, really pop against the minimal sets.
Never mind all that and put this intriguing release into your library for the listening experience alone. It really makes a rather brilliant case for Bellini's problematic tour de force, and the sound quality is spectacular.
Arrigo Boito: Mefistofele. Ildar Abdrazakov, Ramon Vargas, Patricia Racette; SFO Orchestra: Nicola Luisotti, cond.; SFO Chorus: Ian Robertson, dir.; Frank Zamacona, screen dir.
The thriving series of performances of San Francisco Opera live from the War Memorial on EuroArts DVD and Blu-ray also includes the fabled Robert Carsen production of Boito's Mefistofele re-created by Laurie Feldman and directed for the screen by Frank Zamacona during the 2013 season. There may be many chefs on hand, but don't worry, no one is changing the recipe.
The smash-hit show was first seen here in 1989 and again in 1994, and Carsen's endlessly inventive staging remains carefully intact, with designer Michael Levine's eye-popping sets and costumes awesome as ever. There is some real and simulated nudity thrown in this time, but it isn't very shocking in the context of a spectacle that goes gleefully over-the-top every chance it gets. It's an exciting night at the opera, and conductor Nicola Luisotti leads a polished orchestra and cast in a video document that lets us savor the splendors of Carsen's and Boito's stirringly theatrical presentation.
The differences from the 1989 mounting are mostly notable for anyone lucky enough to have seen Samuel Ramey in his prime in the title role. His Satan was sexy, nasty and deliciously droll. Russian bass Ildar Abdrazakov is more gruff and intense. He follows in Ramey's hooves only in the stage directions and puts his own stamp on the role with some rich and powerful singing of his own, creating a satisfying portrayal on his own terms.
Tenor Ramon Vargas as Faust starts small but ends well. He gets lost in the shuffle of the bigger scenes, but his performance benefits from the closer scrutiny that video close-ups provide.
The incredible Patricia Racette, who seems unable to make a wrong move onstage, sings and acts the dual roles of the horribly wronged Margherita and Elena (the girl who launched those 1,000 ships) with her customary power and commitment.
The new release is every bit as stunning as one could hope, especially on Blu-ray. The Ramey enactment survives on a much dimmer Kultur DVD, but with the fabulous sonics of the EuroDisc and the sensational Prologue in Heaven looking better than ever in a superior transcription, this is a bit of SFO history that simply demands a place at home.