Bellini’s I Capuleti e I Montecchi was a great success at its Venice premiere in March, 1830, and it soon made the rounds of other Italian opera houses. When it got to Milan in December of that year, Bellini rewrote the role of Fra Lorenzo, altering the tessitura from bass to tenor. Also at that performance, the role of Romeo was given to a soprano instead of a mezzo, but that bit of casting should be taken with a grain of salt. In the early 1800s the distinction between female voices was not as rigid as it later became (some date the true difference to the role of Azucena), and sopranos like Maria Malibran had Elvira in Puritani lowered for her by Bellini while Giuditta Pasta, the first Norma, also sang the contralto role of Tancredi. And so we must assume that voice distinctions had more to do with color than range.
The point of this is that this performance, taped live at the Martina Franca Festival, adheres to the casting of a tenor as Lorenzo and a soprano as Romeo, making no mention of a mezzo Giulietta, and in fact casting the role as it normally is cast, with a high, light lyric soprano. In the late ’70s Claudio Abbado re-cast Romeo as a tenor and destroyed the timbral balances; whatever happens in Martina Franca could not be that egregious a mistake. In fact, having a tenor Lorenzo makes him seem more like a peer of the two lovers, thereby making some sense of his empathizing with them. As to the choice of a light, soprano Romeo, well, that’s an issue.
Clara Polito, the soprano Romeo, is a good, expressive singer and an involved, intelligent actor–but something doesn’t seem right. The lighter sound and the reworking (raising) of some of the vocal line just makes the “en travesti” aspect of the role less convincing. Furthermore, I’m sure Bellini wanted the dark/light textures in the duets, and that is altogether missing here; the “psychology” of the two different color voices is very important. Polito also embellishes the role a great deal, and it’s not very becoming. She sings Romeo’s beautiful lament in the Tomb Scene with great feeling and poise, but overall the casting of a soprano seems a nice experiment, but a not very successful one.
There are no complaints to be made about the Giulietta of Patrizia Ciofi. Not only does she look the part, she acts it with subtlety, grace, and great poignancy. Her singing also is lovelier than I’ve ever heard it; she spins Bellini’s long melodies with gorgeous legato and exclaims with great expression. As Tebaldo, tenor Danilo Formaggia is terrific. Looking somewhat like a Mafia thug, he sings with style and power, unafraid of top notes and always sensitive to the line. Bravo! Bass Federico Sacchi’s Capellio looks too young and he overcompensates by barking a bit, while our tenor Lorenzo, Nicola Amodio, sings well enough for one in a small part but looks like a deer caught in the headlights.
Other than updating the action to the vague present, with Capellio’s henchmen sporting AK-47s as well as pistols and everyone dressed like villagers in Cavalleria Rusticana, it’s hard to find much in Denis Krief’s conception (he’s responsible for sets, costumes, and lighting). Yes, there are warring factions, but we know that. The lights and much stage machinery are visible on stage–is this realism? Giulietta’s wedding dress is on display throughout Act 1, there are effigies of some sort (unclear) hanging from the rear of the stage/arena, the chorus enters and leaves angrily, and regular lighting is augmented by neon tubes on the floor of the stage, which seem to mark out separate locations, but this certainly is not clear.
The leadership of Luciano Acocella is warm and tasteful, and the dramatic elements are as clear as the lyrical. The orchestra plays well; the chorus is somewhat ragged. Sound is superb, and while the picture is as well, it doesn’t help us understand the production’s point of view. Subtitles are offered in all western European languages. No extras. In brief, this is absolutely necessary for Ciofi’s performance, but we’ll wait for a “great” DVD of this opera to show up.
