Riccardo Zandonai (1883-1944)
Francesca da Rimini: Tragedia in 4 Acts (1914)
Francesca: Maria Caniglia (soprano); Paolo il Bello: Giacinto Prandelli (tenor); Giovanni lo Sciancato: Carlo Tagliabue (baritone); Malatestino dall’Occhio: Mario Carlin (tenor).
Orchestra Sinfonica e Coro di Roma della RAI/Antonio Guarnieri
rec. 9 June 1950, Turin, Italy. AAD mono
Urania WS121192 [131]
Zandonai was only thirty when he was commissioned to write this opera by music publisher Tito Ricordi, who himself wrote the libretto in a reduction of Gabriele D’Annunzio’s 1901 play, in turn an elaboration of the few verses in the Dante’s Inferno in which the lovers, Francesca and Paolo, are depicted condemned to the second circle of Hell for adultery. The poignancy of their damnation has attracted the attention of several Romantic composers, such as Tchaikovsky with his turbulent symphonic poem and Rachmaninov in a one-act opera first performed in 1906. The plot bears a resemblance to several other operas, not least Tristan und Isolde, to which metafictional reference is twice explicitly made, and also allusively, as the stage directions indicate, when the lovers acknowledge their illicit passion over a cup of wine: “Paolo beve, guardando Francesca nelle pupille” (Paolo drinks, looking straight into Francesca’s eyes), while Francesca turns her gaze guiltily aside. Compare that with Isolde’s “Er sah mir in die Augen” (He looked into my eyes). Similarly, there are specific references to the betrayal of Arthur by Guinevere and Lancelot.
The opera has enjoyed regular, if only occasional, revivals. Many opera collectors will have become at least partially familiar with the score via the Decca studio recording of over forty minutes of highlights by Mario Del Monaco and Magda Olivero, tacked on to the complete recording of Giordano’s Fedora; that is also available on another Urania disc called “Mario Del Monaco Tribute” (which wrongly ascribes the recording to 1959 when it should be 1969). Many would argue that this was made too late in Del Monaco’s career; it is true that his tone occasionally blares and turns a little unsteady, and Olivero hardly sounds like a young wife, but they are both true stage animals with huge voices and inject real life into their portrayals. Olivero has such a way of inflecting the text, also shading and “floating” her tone, and accusations of Del Monaco’s “coarseness” have been much exaggerated; he is still capable of making an absolutely thrilling sound but also caresses a line when necessary. In any case, although I wouldn’t be without it, this being highlights – albeit “the best bits” – it can only be a supplement; if you want a more or less complete studio recording on CD, as far as I know, the choice is limited to just two.
The first of those is this one under review, originally made by Cetra in 1950 but here re-issued by Urania; the other, starring Raina Kabaivanska, was made by RCA in Bulgaria in 1987. I do not have the CD set of the latter but have listened to excerpts from the complete recording on YouTube, and I suggest that it would be more recommendable were it not for the casting of tenorino William Matteuzzi as Paolo; I find him impossibly weak, bleating and over-parted, but you may listen and judge for yourself. Despite it being in mono and suffering a few cuts in Act II and in the opening of the final scene, the earlier Cetra recording seems to me to be in many ways the far better bet; its cast is distinguished and its sound is in fact very acceptable – hardly noticeable as mono at all, it is so vivid.
There are, however, also quite a few live recordings, starting with the same Del Monaco/Olivero duo as in the Decca highlights, from La Scala a decade earlier in 1959 on Myto; the sound is only acceptable, the prompter is audible and although the two principals are obviously in fresher voice, I would not say the vocal gains over that later highlights disc are so great – but it is complete. Then there is Leyla Gencer in Trieste from 1961 on Arkadia, Ilva Ligabue in 1958 in Rome, again on Myto, and in Paris in 1976 on the Gala and Rodolphe labels, and another from the Bregenzer Festspiele in 1994. I have not heard any of them but want at least one complete recording in good sound. To meet that criterion, I refer you to Nick Barnard’s positive review of one on the CPO label in 2013, which is a composite live recording and obviously in excellent sound. I am not a fan of opera DVDs but there is one from the Met with Plácido Domingo and a dramatically compelling but vocally frail Renata Scotto in 1984, another from Macerata in 2004 (review) and a Naxos Blu-ray video with Jonathan Tetelmann at the Deutsche Oper in 2021 comprehensively reviewed by Dave Billinge and Paul Corfield Godfrey. (I also refer you to the former’s review for a useful plot synopsis.)
The score is often noisy and bombastic but also exciting. Despite its Renaissance setting and the requirement for ancient instruments in the scoring, it is still essentially a close cousin of other verismo operas such as Cavalleria rusticana, Andrea Chénier and L’amore dei tre re, except it is largely devoid of the stream of melody we hear in Mascagni, Giordano and Montemezzi, as Zandonai concentrates upon a more naturalistic setting of dialogue – although there are passages of great calm and delicacy, and of an almost hypnotic quality, such as the strumming (zither?) which heralds Francesca’s first appearance and features in the “Spring chorus” of Act III, Sc. iii. The music is propulsive and varied, enlivened by constantly interesting orchestration; there is little time for longueurs. The solo cello introduction over the women’s chorus concluding Act I is lovely, neatly evocative of Francesca’s lovelorn state of mind, and the encounters between the lovers are loaded with passion, couched in almost frenetically intense music. Likewise, the battle scene in Act II is thrilling, but the emotional highpoint is perhaps Act III, Sc. iv, culminating in the lovers’ kiss, mirroring the tale of Lancelot and Guinevere which Francesca is reading, thereby consolidating the literary theme and its dramatic representation. The music here is much more melodic, memorable and lyrical than has hitherto been the case; no wonder it is invariably included in highlight recordings. Francesca’s repeated entreaty as she struggles to quell her desire, “Paolo, datemi pace!” (Paolo, give me peace) is heart-rending and the allusions to Tristan become specific with Paolo’s “Nemica ebbi la luce, arnica ebbi la notte” (I hated daylight and I loved the night). In contrast, there are echoes of Cavaradossi’s torture by Scarpia’s henchmen in the opening of Act IV and the ensuing scene between the brothers when Malatestino reveals Francesca’s and Paolo’s affair to Gianciotto is highly dramatic, played out all the while a severed head wrapped in a cloth sits centre stage!
Maria Caniglia does not sound exactly young but was only in her mid-forties at the time of the recording and is in good voice; she was a genuine spinto soprano, a favourite partner of Gigli and a real trooper who throws herself into her role; her top notes are occasionally a little squally but they are there, and I very much like her deployment of lower register on the key words she is reading, “lo bacia in bocca…” (kissed him on the mouth…). Only Francesca really undergoes any change or development as a character but she is in any case the focal point of the opera; the other roles are more stereotypical – static and emblematic of type. Tenor Giacinto Prandelli as Paolo il Bello is probably most familiar to many collectors as Tebaldi’s partner in their recordings of La Bohème and La Wally, and with Tito Gobbi in Il tabarro. He does not have the heft or squillo of the more heroic Del Monaco but his soft singing is particularly attractive and he is a more than competent artist, sweet and true of voice; his floated “Francesca” after the kiss is beautiful. Sturdy Verdi baritone Carlo Tagliabue is frighteningly forceful as Gianciotto, supporting “character” tenor Mario Carlin as the villainous Malatestino was frequently heard on stage and in recordings in the 50s and 60s, and the cast all round is admirable.
This Urania edition is currently available as a download but if you can find the CD issue of the original Cetra recording (Warner Fonit – Cetra Opera Collection 8573 87470-2), that includes an Italian-only libretto – and you may hear it in its entirety on YouTube. A free Italian-English text is available online here.
Ralph Moore
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Other cast
Samaritana: Ornella Rovero (soprano); Ostasio: Mario Tommasini (baritone); Biancofiore: Amalia Oliva (soprano); Garsenda: Licia Rossini (soprano); Altichiara/La Schiava Smaragdi/Adonella: Anna Maria Canali (mezzo-soprano); Adonella: Grazia Colaresu (mezzo-soprano); Il Giullare/Il Torrigiano: Enrico Campi (baritone); Ser Toldo Berardengo/Il balestriere: Aldo Bertocci (tenor)
