Opera Reviews
18 May 2024
Untitled Document

Muti’s metaphysical meditation on the end of innocence



by Lorenzo Fiorito
Mozart: Cosí fan tutte
Teatro di San Carlo, Naples
25 November 2018

After 2016’s Le nozze di Figaro, director Chiara Muti returns to Mozart with the opera she says she loves the most, in a staging that the Teatro di San Carlo co-produced with the Wiener Staatsoper. Her direction confirms her personal concept of an operatic play: a limpid theatrical action where the esprit géométrique of an elegantly organised construction combines with the esprit de finesse of the emotions, in a dramaturgical and musical finely wrought play. 

At the risk of committing lèse-majesté against the conductor Riccardo Muti (the director’s father), it must be said that the strength of this production was the staging, for the delicacy of the director’s "sentiment" of the play and the ability to translate it into a scenic representation.

It was real theatre in music, as the score supported the drama like a metronome, and in turn was interpreted like a script. For, while it is usually the libretto that is subject to the music, in the hands of Chiara Muti Mozart’s score is itself a script; thus, each and every libretto and score detail is turned into characterisation and stage movement, so that the clarity of the narration and the pleasure of watching and listening draw benefits.

The story of the two young sisters, whose faithfulness is tested by the two fake Albanian soldiers on the instigation of the cynical Don Alfonso helped by the maid Despina, can be represented as a light farce or as a passionate psychological drama about the couples' relationships. The director chose a third way, letting the story flow as a philosophical, almost metaphysical meditation on joyfulness and disillusionment, and ultimately on the end of the innocence of youth, to which the protagonists eventually say goodbye forever.

The costumes and scenery, all in shades of white, evoked (very distantly, indeed) the setting in Naples at the end of the 18th century, with a suggestive and impalpable Mediterranean Sea in the background.

The four main characters were well balanced. Maria Bengtsson, as Fiordiligi, had to face the most difficult singing part, particularly with the arias "Come scoglio" in Act I and the long rondo "Per pietà, ben mio, perdona", in  Act II; the soprano has a beautiful timbre, rich in nuances, and created a credible woman induced by her sister in the moral dilemma (betraying or remaining faithful?) that is at the centre of the story.

As Dorabella, the mezzo-soprano Paola Gardina was a remarkable performer, both for her voice and her acting verve, in the role of her ficklest sister. With her supple and musically appealing voice, she well rendered the aria "Smanie implacabili" and the amiable "È amore un ladroncello".

The more ardent of the two males, Ferrando, was sung by Pavel Kolgatin, who shaped glowing phrases to make his a plausible character, as did Alessio Arduini for Guglielmo; both had quite good tessitura, vocal agility and timbre of voices. The maid Despina was a very good and witty Emmanuelle de Negri, who didn’t succumb to the temptation to weigh down the character with farcical traits. Her acting was supported by a flexible light soprano, which was particularly considerable in the arias “In uomini in soldati” and “Una donna a quindici anni”.

However, the best singer and actor of the evening was undoubtedly Marco Filippo Romano, who played Don Alfonso with ease and finesse: he sang strongly and effortlessly including the lowest notes of this challenging role, also showing full command of the whole range.

It is important, though, to remark that, beyond the skills of the individual singers, it was the overall ensemble work that was exemplary.

Riccardo Muti offered another great sample of his virtuosity, at the head of a San Carlo orchestra and chorus in great shape, and of six singers who were fully responsive to his baton. The Maestro’s touch was immediately recognizable from the overture, for his fluid and poised style; he was a deus ex machina always present but unobtrusive, often (and intelligently) taking out, rather than adding, thus sustaining his daughter’s nimbly moral reading. This allowed the director and the singers to fully deploy their energies, to the total benefit of the entire work, to which the public applauded enthusiastically at the end.

Text © Lorenzo Fiorito
Photo © Silvia Lelli
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