The Wiener Staatsoper’s season-opening run of La clemenza di Tito almost perfectly coincided with the work’s 232nd anniversary. With a talented cast and conductor, this performance could have properly honoured Mozart’s last opera seria, but the revival of the late Jürgen Flimm’s 2012 production made for a rather dubious homage. Indeed, this performance proved to be one of warring elements: a remarkable musical outing against a disjointed staging that had little to say about Mozart’s work.
The main issue with Flimm’s staging is its lack of coherence. The core concept rests on a meta-theatrical framing, a potentially interesting approach given the opera seria's inherent theatricality of conflicting public self-representations and private lives, but it’s too little in itself, especially when the production goes entirely against the work’s established narrative. An emblematic issue of this is Berenice, Tito’s former lover, who, instead of being duly dispatched at the beginning of the opera, never leaves. Why this happens and why Tito still proposes to two other women is never explained, with Berenice ultimately only providing a silent figure for Tito to monologue at. More problematic is the general lack of direction, the singers often being left to meander around the stage with very little sense of characterisation, motivation or dramatic tension. The matter is worsened by a string of recitative cuts that saved little time but muddled the plot to the point of incomprehension, repeatedly lessening the dramatic drive so elegantly crafted by Mozart and Caterino Mazzolà.
The dullness of the staging proved all the more frustrating given the musical quality it was set against. High praise is due for Pablo Heras-Casado’s thoroughly striking conducting, infusing the evening with much needed electrifying drive and consummate beauty. Though at times quite eccentric in his choice of tempi and phrasing, his reading was always fresh and intriguing, preserving both the imperial majesty and the human beauty of Mozart's score. Particularly remarkable was the Act 1 finale, hair-raising in its pre-Romantic sense of darkness and terror. Among the uniformly fine playing of the orchestra, the woodwinds were especially appealing, clarinet and basset horn obbligatos rendered with grace and pathos.
Seeing her debut as Vitellia with this run, Federica Lombardi proved a notable, though not faultless interpreter of the role. Lombardi's gleaming, golden, round-toned soprano was a delight to hear and, combined with a captivating stage presence, it’s hardly surprising that her Vitellia would hold Sesto in such thrall. The only (though considerable) beauty spot was a weakness in her bottom range, undercutting an otherwise highly moving “Non più di fiori”. Lombardi’s intelligent, sensitive performance nevertheless succeeded in making Vitellia, at least musically, a multi-faceted, thoroughly human figure.
As her partner in crime, Kate Lindsey was in her element as a neurotic Sesto, performing the role with a great sense of unhinged urgency. Vocally, she was in somewhat choppy waters, often underpowered, with top notes at times turning shrill and thin, but “Parto, parto” and “Deh, per questo istante solo” were rendered with touching eloquence, and the darker edge of her voice blended well with Lombardi’s own in “Come ti piace imponi” and a highly emotional “Se al volto mai ti senti”.
For a veteran of the title role, Matthew Polenzani started the opera bafflingly disconnected, “Del più sublime soglio” getting a rather rough outing. He came alive in Act 2, showing off a clean, noble, suitably stentorian tenor; his great recitative “Che orror!” was performed with a true sense of drama, and the confrontation scene between him and Lindsey's Sesto proved a highlight of the evening, Polenzani portraying Tito’s deep hurt and desperation with visceral effectiveness. Though a non sequitur for the staging, his “Se all’impero” was properly triumphant, flying through the coloratura with considerable ease.
In the supporting roles, Slávka Zámečníková and Patricia Nolz were a delightful couple as Servilia and Annio. Nolz impressed with a velvety mezzo, wonderfully sensitive phrasing and complete security through her range; if her Annio couldn’t prove a star turn, that's only because it’s too small a part. She was ideally matched with Zámečníková’s dark, attractive soprano, the two of them blending beautifully in an enchantingly sung “Ah, perdona al primo affetto”. Zámečníková’s voice was also well suited to an unusually forceful Servilia, her soprano strong and cutting in “S'altro che lagrime”, yet also floating high notes with gentle, shimmering beauty. Last but not least, bass-baritone Peter Kellner proved a reliable Publio.
The Wiener Staatsoper clearly has the forces at its disposal for a remarkable Tito, but perhaps a new staging is in order.
