The San Carlo Opera House, Naples
by Michael Letchford
Published 2021
234 pages, paperback
ISBN: 978-0-9564-7965-5
ARS Recorded Editions

I am pondering on writing an article for MWI on the resurgence of opera in the UK after 1945. I suppose the 80^th anniversary of Peter Grimes in June 2025 is on my mind this month. That historic run of only nine performances at Sadler’s Wells was shorter than I realised, but as well as putting Britten well and truly on the world map, it may have sparked a revival in the art form generally.

The following Summer at Glyndebourne, its follow-up from Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, had 81 performances – yes 81, not a misprint; from its premiere on the Sussex Downs under Ernest Ansermet, with Kathleen Ferrier notably creating the title role, through tours to Manchester, Liverpool, Edinburgh, Glasgow, with seven performances at each venue, the 26 at Sadler’s Wells and onwards to Oxford and Holland.

In June 1946, at the Cambridge Theatre, London, the New London Opera Company gave nightly performances of La Bohème, in English. That company existed until May 1948; in September, however, London was expectantly awaiting the curtain to rise on the visit of the San Carlo Opera from Naples. Covent Garden had re-opened in the February after the war with ballet. I understand there were negotiations with a few companies to put on a season of opera, but eventually, through the agencies of Jack Hylton, the San Carlo were invited and duly came. 

I came upon this book, purely by chance as I surfed the internet, looking for details about this fabled season at Covent Garden. As I understand it, the motivation to write the book also came about serendipitously when Michael Letchford stumbled on a box of programmes from the Teatro San Carlo in a bookshop he was browsing in. The work does not just detail the season the company put on at Covent Garden in that Autumn of 1946, though, it chronicles the whole fascinating story of how the British Army set up, administered and ran successfully an opera company for the occupying force in Italy and for the residents of the city of Naples in the years 1943-46.

After final victory in the desert sands of North Africa, Churchill was keen to strike at the “soft underbelly of the Axis” and in July 1943 the Italian campaign began with the invasion of Sicily. Mussolini was soon ousted and his fascist regime toppled. There was still the Wehrmacht, though. The main invasion force on the Italian mainland landed at Salerno in September of that year. After they had established a beachhead, they moved forward and after some heavy fighting, the Allies entered Naples, vacated by the Germans, on 1^st October 1943. The Germans made their stand on a line further north, up the boot of Italy. Naples was secure though and very quickly, a young Lieutenant in the Royal Artillery, Peter Francis, surveyed the San Carlo with a view to getting it running again for the troops’ morale and recreation and for the Neapolitans, too. This city of song, of Tosti, Di Capua, De Curtis must have been all the happier for it. Perhaps Caruso himself, another Napolitano was smiling down from heaven on the whole enterprise.

The first concerts began in November 1943 conducted by Franco Patanè who was a mainstay at the house until 1945 when Music Director Franco Capuana’s appearances became more common. Staged opera commenced from December and the repertory expanded quickly. Much of the book (over 100 pages) is given over to a detailed chronology of the company which gave close on 2000 performances in the period, often twice per day. Author Michael Letchford painstakingly compiled this from programmes and authenticated sources only, so there are inevitably many gaps. I believe the opera house itself in Naples holds precious little to supplement what Michael has unearthed so we should be grateful for the work he has started here. In terms of cast lists, they came on separate sheets not attached to the programme the attendees were given, so inevitably many must have been lost to the Mediterranean winds blowing in over Santa Lucia and of course the kitbag restrictions of the typical Tommy whose possession it once was.

For lovers of opera and the singers of the period, the chronology will make delicious reading. For me, a collector of 78s of the time, it felt a bit like finding an elusive Cetra catalogue from the late 1940s. In 1944 some big-name artists did come as guests, but from the Spring of 1945, the casts were day-in day-out awash with the great names of Italian bel canto. Sopranos like Margherita Carosio and Maria Pedrini (to name two outstanding in their own Fach), mezzos of the calibre of Stignani and Chloe Elmo and what tenors! Gigli, Schipa, Pertile and Merli will be the names that stand out at first but consider, too ,the likes of Tagliavini, Infantino, Ferrauto and many others those audiences must have heard regularly. Wonderful baritones and bass voices trod that stage too including Bechi, Gobbi, Franci, Tagliabue, Silveri, Tajo and Pasero.

By the Summer of 1946 the San Carlo had staged many works including, in addition to many standard and rarer Italian operas, Die Walküre and Boris Godunov. There had been many concerts in between involving conductors of the calibre of Barbirolli, Lambert and Gui but also offering serving men their chance to shine too, like Flight Lieutenant James Robertson, who on return to England was given charge at Sadler’s Wells. Heifetz came, as did Lily Pons. On one notable occasion, the great Ebe Stignani gallantly stepped aside from her slot to sing “Land of Hope and Glory” (for which she had been coached in English) to make way for Gracie Fields. There was a fortnight break from opera in early April 1944 when Irving Berlin arrived at the San Carlo to conduct his revue “This is the Army” on the Napoli stage.

The book includes several articles written by Lt. Peter Francis on what he went through to turn the badly damaged theatre into a functioning opera house. Leading Aircraftsman FWC Fesel’s articles, singer biographies and reviews of the time published in “Welfare News” make fascinating reading. Novelist Naomi Jacob contributed a running series called “How to Listen to Opera” which must have been useful to the soldiers, many of whom had surely never been anywhere near an opera house in England. With ticket prices from 30 Lire (officers paid more) which would be less than £1.50 today, the men took a risk, enjoyed the experience and often came back for more later in the week. Just Imagine, Otello sung by the great Francesco Merli with Tito Gobbi as Iago and an interval drink for less than £2; then a few days later Mefistofele featuring the great bass Tancredi Pasero for the same price.

The last part of the book, though, is my favourite. The great record collector and connoisseur of vocal art Alan Bilgora (1929-2021) saw the San Carlo when they came to Covent Garden in 1946. Alan was Michael Letchford’s friend and contributed the section at the end of the book detailing his experiences of those nights and writing superb biographies of the artists featured. Alan telephoned Michael in 2021 and enquired of him, with only a matter of weeks to live, if it might be possible for him to see the book and read its content. When I telephoned Michael recently, he was clearly moved telling me the tale and choked to recount how he dropped everything to finish the work quickly, so as to fulfil Alan’s desire. Alan details the season, including the archaic rituals Covent Garden then employed in their queueing systems and ticket sales arrangements.

Here are the works performed by the CMF (Central Mediterranean Forces) San Carlo with first night casts and some other details:

The company ended their six-week slot at the Garden and went on their holidays (more about that below). They returned for a final week in November, bringing back La Bohème and Cav and Pag. In all four performances the tenor role was sung by the legendary Beniamino Gigli. Tickets were in high demand and the queues were legendary. Until the mid-50s there was a piece of graffiti on the wall near the old gallery entrance on Floral Steet: “Has anyone got any spare tickets for Gigli?” The BBC Light Programme broadcast Acts 3 and 4 of the first Bohème;they also carried Pagliacci from the double-bill. Alan Bilgora recounts his experiences of the great tenor in the book. Not until Domingo, many years later did another tenor sing both Turiddu and Canio at Covent Garden.

After the deprivations and drabness of the war, and rationing – which was of course still in place – the colour, style and vim of the season was tangible. The Daily Mail reported: “At Tosca no-one applauded more heartly than the Prime Minister, Clement Attlee, who could be seen leaning eagerly over the red-plush edge of his box”.

I mentioned earlier the little holiday the company enjoyed at the end of the season on Bow Street. It was a busman’s holiday, really, but for me, it is the most treasurable part of the whole story. They left London on coaches, destination Billy Butlin’s holiday camp in Filey. There, they performed La bohème, Il barbiere and Cav and Pag. The holiday camp residents got their tickets for free. The local Yorkshire folk paid a little. Casts were exactly the same quality as at Covent Garden. The next week they debunked to Butlin’s at Skegness and got to work behind the stage at the “Camp Theatre” there. Those happy “Hi-de-Hi!” campers got to experience the thrill of the great Mario del Monaco as Canio one night and the charming suavity of Paolo Silveri’s Figaro, the next.

What an age – an enlightened time, a time of innocence, perhaps, but renewal, too. I would have loved to have been alive in those Attlee years and done anything to have seen the San Carlo in those years. They did return to the UK for a short season at the Edinburgh Festival in 1963 and there have been other visits.

The resurgence of opera at Covent Garden continued with the opening of the season by the resident company at Christmas 1946. Purcell’s The Fairy Queen was a joint staging with Sadler’s Wells, I think, and ran for over twenty performances. Carmen had its first night on 14^th January 1947 with Edith Coates in the role. The Vienna State Opera came to Covent Garden in 1947 and that is a whole new story. This earlier tale is heartening and one I believe we can be proud of in the UK;  it is told wonderfully here, in this book.

Philip Harrison