Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848)
Lucie de Lammermoor – opera in three acts (1839)
Henri Ashton: Vito Priante (baritone), Edgard Ravenswood: Patrick Kabongo (tenor), Lord Arthur Bucklaw: Julien Henric (tenor), Gilbert: David Astorga (tenor), Raimond, Protestant minister: Roberto Lorenzi (bass-baritone), Lucie, Ashton’s sister: Caterina Sala (soprano)
Coro dell’Accademia Teatro alla Scala
Orchestra Gli Originali/Pierre Dumoussaud
French libretto & English translation available online
rec. live, 1 December 2023, Teatro Sociale, Bergamo, Italy
Naxos 8.660578-79 [2 CDs: 125]
Just occasionally, even a veteran reviewer such as I can have the interesting experience of encountering a recording of a work with which I am wholly unacquainted – at least, in this form – performed by artists none of whom I have heard before. That confession may tell you more about my ignorance than the performance in question, but it at least means that I am approaching it without prejudices or preconceptions – which is surely desirable in a critic.
This is the French version of Donizetti’s greatest success, which he revised for Paris four years after the Italian premiere. It was appreciatively received but did not become established and subsequently French theatres invariably opted simply to perform the French translation of the Italian version rather than Donizetti’s adaptation and it is rarely heard today except in festivals – in this case, as part of the Donizetti Opera Festival in Bergamo, in 2023. Just as Verdi later bowed to the conventions of French Grand Opera when adapting his works for “la grande boutique”, Donizetti made many concessions and changes, some of which were dictated by the more limited means of the Théâtre de la Renaissance in Paris, as compared with the state-subsidised theatre in Naples. It is in essence a streamlining or simplification of the original. The libretto by Alphonse Royer and Gustave Vaëz compresses and reshapes the story to match French tastes; there is less emphasis on religious or political elements and more on personal and emotional drama, thus the reasons that Lucie’s brother forces her into an arranged marriage, are more financial and dynastic. The opera is shorter and more tightly structured, focussing more on the love story between Lucie and Edgar, and the rivalry between Edgar and Henri is mostly eliminated, so there is no Wolf’s Crag scene. Alisa, Lucia’s handmaid and confidante, is eliminated so the spotlight now is entirely upon the one, female, central character, who is more naïve than Lucia. Normanno has been replaced by the more obviously evil and corrupt Gilbert. The wedding scene and the famous mad scene remain but are re-shaped, the latter with a simplified cadenza for Lucie. Musically, the changes are to do with lightening the orchestration to suit a more lyrical, “through-composed” Gallic style, adjusting phrasing and vocal lines to fit the French language, introducing new recitatives and cutting some arias. Some major, set-piece numbers familiar to those used to the original Italian version are now missing; e.g., Lucia’s “Regnava nel silenzio” is replaced by an aria from Rosmonda d’Inghilterra and the French equivalent of Edgardo’s final scene “Tu che a Dio spiegasti l’ali” is truncated and altered.
In brief, there are enough changes to validate considering this to be another work – or at least a major revision. I listened to it reading the libretto online. The sound is very good and extraneous noise is minimal, some inevitable footfall apart and the applause included is not obtrusive; it just adds to the ambience. It is instantly evident that Gli Originali, as the name indicates, are a leaner, period band; just occasionally the raw tone of the original instruments slightly grates. Only two of the cast are French but their diction and accents are excellent and so are the first two voices: firm, wobble-free and even throughout their range. Costa Rican tenor David Astorga makes a suitably evil Gilbert and Vito Priante as Henri sings his first aria confidently; he has a dark, vibrant baritone of quality with ringing top notes. “Cruda, funesta smania” becomes “D’un amour qui me brave” and works very well, as does the cabaletta; the chorus is lusty and the scene receives deserved applause.
The second tenor is Julien Henric, also pleasing of voice, and the trio of tenors is completed by Patrick Kabongo as Lucie’s illicit lover – and thank goodness that he, too, bucks the trend too prevalent among modern French tenors of crooning in nasal, mixed falsetto. His tenor is clean, light and open and he sings his first aria very sweetly: “Sur la tombe de mon père” – which old hands will instantly recognise as “Sulla tomba, che rinserra”; this of course evolves into a passionate duet with Lucie, crowned with a top C from the soprano and an astonishing, harmonising top E flat from Kabongo.
The young soprano Caterina Sala bears a heavy burden as the only female solo voice and the eponymous, doomed heroine. She has a most interesting voice: a fast, flickering vibrato, evident lower register development, great agility with a proper trill, flawless pitch and an intrinsically attractive timbre. Her first aria is the import from Rosmonda and she sings it in highly accomplished fashion.
The final soloist is the firm, sonorous bass-baritone Roberto Lorenzi, which completes a fine ensemble. Having reviewed too many operatic recordings in which the dreaded wobble rules, this release scores by featuring voices all completely free of that egregious vice, every one falling gratefully on the ear.
Pierre Dumoussaud directs unobtrusively but is alive to the moments of high drama such as when Henri deceives Lucie by presenting her with a copy of the ring she gave Edgard, supposedly proving his infidelity (replacing a forged letter in the Italian version); he is unafraid to pause and slow the pace right down for dramatic effect then ramp up the tension once more without sounding self-consciously “pushme-pullyou”. I like his style very much; he gives Sala plenty of space for her heartbreaking lament “Pleurant son absence” – so much so that I immediately replayed it the first time. That, too, mutates into a duet and is perfectly sung by Sala and Priante.
Of course, one of the great highlights of this opera is the Act II sextet. Dumoussaud begins by pacing it surprisingly cautiously but knows what he is doing and gradually builds to a rip-roaring climax to the act. The other most famous passage is Lucie’s mad scene — here in F major, whereas most sopranos singing the Italian version sing “Il dolce suono” in E♭ major. Sala’s vocalisation is silvery, skittish, aptly hysterical but avoiding shrillness despite the high tessitura. Her control in the cadenza ending with a high D on track 7 is very impressive and her duet – duel? – with the flute (no glass harmonica here) is riveting; she soars aloft in the stratospheric tessitura with astonishing ease. It really is a tour de force.
Kabongo gives us an impressively sung death scene, earning warm applause – though why the producer has the chorus audibly chuckle at his agonies is beyond me. If his tenor hasn’t the ping and glamour of Pavarotti, he nonetheless sings with great feeling and suppleness, providing a fitting conclusion to what was a memorable night at the opera in Bergamo.
This is not the first recording of this version: there is an excellent disc of excerpts from 1960 conducted by Georges Sébastian, starring Mady Mesplé, Alain Vanzo and Robert Massard, another live festival recording of the complete score in 1997 by Maurizio Benini on the Dynamic label with Patrizia Ciofi, Alexandru Badea and Nicolas Rivenq, then two conducted by Evelino Pidò with Natalie Dessay as Lucie, one the sole studio account from 2002 on EMI with Roberto Alagna and Ludovic Tézier, the other live with the same cast except Marcelo Álvarez substitutes for Alagna. Personally from what I know of those, I would say that this new issue is now the best option for a complete recording.
Ralph Moore
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