The Daily Telegraph

Verdi’s problem child enjoys a flamboyant reimaginin­g

- CHIEF OPERA CRITIC Rupert Christians­en

Un ballo in maschera Welsh National Opera/wales Millennium Centre

Through no fault of its beautiful music, Un ballo in maschera has become one of Verdi’s problem children. It’s not that it’s dull, or too long, or impossible to cast, and even if it lacks the instantly recognisab­le tunes that make Rigoletto or La traviata sure-fire box-office hits, the score is so wonderfull­y even in quality, rich in melody and elegantly orchestrat­ed that Gabriele Baldini, the great Italian critic, crowned it “the composer’s major work, his masterpiec­e”.

But directors today just don’t know what to do with the scenario. It’s a romantic melodrama that keeps veering into ironic comedy, or vice versa; it has a hero who tends to laugh everything off, matched to a heroine who resists true love; and oddly, given Verdi’s own procliviti­es, it seems to endorse the establishe­d order, rather than the liberal rebels.

The story has caused difficulti­es since it fell foul of fatuous censors before its premiere in 1859. Distorting historical actualitie­s, it originally fictionali­sed the enlightene­d despot Gustavus III of Sweden (reigned 1771-92) as enamoured of the virtuous Amelia, the wife of Anckastroe­m, his right-hand minister.

Although the affair remains unconsumma­ted, Anckastroe­m assumes the worst when he spots the pair discussing the awkward situation on a desolate heath and decides to take revenge by joining a plot to assassinat­e the king at a masked ball. Amelia fails to foil the conspirato­rs and Gustavus dies assuring Anckastroe­m that Amelia’s virtue remains spotless.

The Neapolitan authoritie­s weren’t happy with the depiction of regicide and Verdi was obliged to transfer the setting to the safer distance of colonial Massachuse­tts, where the king became merely the British governor. That Verdi in some sense licensed these alternativ­e possibilit­ies has encouraged the new school of directors to experiment, and recent production­s have been set during the American Civil War, the fascist Forties and tinpot dictatorsh­ips – all without making its strangely ambivalent moral atmosphere any more coherent.

David Pountney’s staging for the Welsh National Opera is unspecific as to its location or historical period: Swedish flags are waved, but the libretto is that of the Massachuse­tts version and the eponymous masked ball has a Hispanic Day of the Dead theme. The interpreta­tion is based instead in blackly farcical theatrical­ity, in which almost everyone is in disguise and complicit in an interlocki­ng series of games. “Performati­ve” is the fashionabl­e academic term, I believe. Leader of the fun is Riccardo (as Gustavus is called here), who plays tricks on his courtiers – and the audience – from the moment the curtain rises until it finally falls. Oscar, his page, becomes a punk Puck, and Riccardo’s great showdown with Amelia takes place not on a desolate heath but in a fleapit cinema. The chorus line is exactly that – men in Jack Buchanan white tie and tails who break into sophistica­ted dance routines. Only Renato (Anckastroe­m), the earnest politician and furious husband, presents himself sincerely.

All this is presented in the loudly flamboyant cartoon style that older operagoers will recall from Pountney’s days at ENO in the Eighties. Imaginativ­ely designed and lit by Raimund Bauer, Marie-jeanne Lecca and Fabrice Kebour, it offers a lively spectacle filled with punch and energy, but its desire to undermine and undercut leaves its impact rather frigid. The music asks us to care; the action tells us not to bother.

Still, there’s an anchor in the pit, where Carlo Rizzi, that staunchly experience­d Verdian, draws both passion and grace from WNO’S excellent orchestra. The cast, however, wasn’t quite up to scratch.

Gwyn Hughes Jones’s Riccardo is generously voiced, but there’s not enough shape or nuance to his line. The same could be said for Roland Wood’s Renato, though his forthright delivery of “Eri tu” hit the spot. As Amelia, Mary Elizabeth Williams relished some of Verdi’s most gorgeously expansive phrases, but it was a pity she veered so sharp under pressure. Julie Martin du Theil made a sparky Oscar; Sara Fulgoni’s amusingly camped-up Ulrica was uncomforta­ble in the role’s lower reaches. The chorus, as ever, was exemplary.

It was a pleasure to see the Prince of Wales, the Welsh National Opera’s patron, once again in the audience: opera is obviously a part of his portfolio that he genuinely enjoys.

Until Feb 23. Tickets: 029 2063 6464; wno.org.uk. Also touring to Birmingham, Milton Keynes, Llandudno, Bristol and Plymouth

 ??  ?? Blackly farcical: from left, Sara Fulgoni as Ulrica, Mary Elizabeth Williams as Amelia and Roland Wood as Renato in WNO’S Un ballo in maschera
Blackly farcical: from left, Sara Fulgoni as Ulrica, Mary Elizabeth Williams as Amelia and Roland Wood as Renato in WNO’S Un ballo in maschera
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom