Returning to the spectacular Carnegie Music Hall this past Sunday, Pittsburgh Festival Opera followed up last year’s presentation of Cilea’s Adriana Lecouvreur with a performance of Ponchielli’s epic tragedy, La Gioconda. For a fledgling enterprise treading about in these uncertain times, and now in its second season producing operas in concert form, the choice of repertoire is a bold one. Ponchielli’s drama, an Italian retrofit of the once popular French Grand Opera style, poses tremendous challenges for any opera company big or small. For starters, Ponchielli lavished La Gioconda with all the trappings designed to dazzle audiences at the Paris Opera. Compounding on the opera’s 17th century Venice setting, which invites decadence in staging and costuming, it demands the services of six starry leads over the span of four acts, their clashing passions playing out before the full chorus during several intricate crowd scenes, with dramatic situations often resolved by spectacular stage effects. It also features a ballet, which has curiously found its way into the public consciousness by triggering images of hippos in tutus, as well as memories of Allan Sherman’s unexpected 1963 one-hit-wonder parody ‘Hello Muddah, Hello Fuddah,” thus warranting its inclusion in most revivals (a luxury other composers, even the great Verdi, cannot claim).
La Gioconda earned Ponchielli praise amongst critics and audiences alike following its original and revised premieres, becoming one of the few works championing the Italian school through Verdi’s self-imposed sabbatical between Aida and Otello, and until the advent of the new Verismo style re-established Italy back into the musical cutting edge. The opera’s standing degraded as the Wagner revolution and the new verismo fad changed public taste, managing to remain in the standard repertoire primarily as a vehicle for the great singers of the age – much to the chagrin of its many haters, of which there are many. Alongside the works of faded icons of the French Grand Opera school like Meyerbeer and Halevy, these dissenting voices have (politely in print and less so behind closed doors) dismissed the opera as brainless, implausible and musically esoteric by unanimous consent. These deterrents underlined Pittsburgh Festival Opera’s gamble, which, as heard on December 14th, paid off – if not completely in full.
Pittsburgh Festival Opera’s presentation in concert format, by omitting visual distractions, ironically does much to endorse Ponchielli as an uncommonly savvy and sensitive dramaturg, able to evoke beyond the local tinta, social class and stato d’anima of his characters. Even temporal effects, which would later be expanded by Puccini and Mascagni, are depicted in the score of La Gioconda with enchanting nuance, that inescapable sense of the sun gradually fading through the whole of first act, and the glittering of the stars across the vesperal skies in the second, all come from the pit. The orchestra and chorus, though reduced to accommodate the forces gathered by Pittsburgh Opera Festival, have been lovingly prepared by conductor Christopher Franklin and chorus master Andrew Whitfield. Taking great care to remain within union overtime boundaries, the lightly trimmed score was delivered by Mr. Franklin with a sensible yet urgent pace, always supplying sympathetic support to principals and players alike.
Filling out the cast list for any performance of La Gioconda will test the resources of most opera companies, but Pittsburgh Festival Opera is singularly fortunate in having Marianne Cornetti as its General Manager & Artistic Director. A dramatic mezzo-soprano of international caliber, Ms. Cornetti is among a handful of artists, such as Margaret Harshaw, Regina Resnik and Fiorenza Cossotto to have extended into the soprano and contralto repertoires to critical acclaim. Moreso, she has already achieved the unique feat of having sung all three female principal roles in La Gioconda, empowering her to resolve a variety of potential casting woes as needed. Earning well deserved ovations in the contralto role of Gioconda’s blind mother La Cieca, Ms. Cornetti revealed the heart of the character, a gracious proxy of Meyerbeer’s Fides and Verdi’s Azucena, through a steady and warm cavernous tone which accomplished the low tessitura with no apparent discomfort. From her entrance, her interpretation was geared to showcase the vulnerability of the old pious beggar. She carefully kept her vocalism within these margins, avoided driving her characterization forth as a display of brute strength, earning the sympathy of many.
Seeking to build unto the unqualified success of last year’s Cilea’s Adriana Lecouvreur, Pittsburgh Festival Opera brought back its two romantic leads, now filtered through the lens of Ponchielli’s score, to decidedly mixed results. Apart from last year’s success which did much to recommend her, the casting of the fine Hungarian soprano Csilla Boross in the title role proved an obvious choice: Her repertoire already includes some of the more testing parts in the dramatic soprano cannon, and Ms. Boross has already tackled La Gioconda three years ago at the Choregies d’Orange Summer Opera Festival (an occasion which also included Ms. Cornetti’s La Cieca). However, the vocal challenges associated with Ponchielli’s street singer require, at baseline, a greater degree of vocal exuberance and blunt natural resources than Cilea’s tragedienne (alongside Amelia is Verdi’s Un Ballo in Maschera, La Gioconda boasts the reputation as one of the most testing dramatic soprano parts of the pre-verismo age), and as heard last Sunday, Ms. Boross’ assumption was not without complications. The lyric qualities of her soprano found less fertile ground to develop this time around, and limited access to her lower register rendered many of the opera’s key scenes, such as the famous confrontation with Laura in Act II and the whole of Act IV (including her signature aria, “Suicidio”) into insurmountable hurdles. Gioconda is a street person, and her volatile nature is reflected in both text and music. A voice of glamorous profile, an incisive edge, and imposing presence in the chest resonance are required to properly carry the day.
To her credit, Ms. Boross betrayed a palpable desire to do right by the part, often pulling the vocal rubber band past the point of comfort. Sadly, this further unsettled her vocal bearing, often appearing to lose her footing when floating sustained passages in the upper range. Difficulties notwithstanding, Ms. Boross was sensitive to the pivotal dramatic moments in the opera, and often capitalized on them. Her pensive musings after saving Laura from Alvise’s grip (“O madre mia, nell’isola fatale”) dripped with irony. Later, when her romantic hopes were dashed by a furious Enzo, she was further crushed as the light returned to his countenance when he greeted the revived Laura. “Nascondili, o tenebra!” she says, accepting her irreversible fate.
By contrast, tenor Victor Starsky returned to the opulent stage of the Carnegie Music Hall under altogether different circumstances. The young tenor has been the subject of great interest to this blog ever since he served up the ooh laa laa experience at Utah Festival Opera in 2023, and much has happened since that memorable performance to indicate that Mr. Starsky is still testing the boundaries of his instrument. A triumphant debut at Pittsburgh Festival Orchestra last year as Maurizio in Cilea’s Adriana Lecouvreur, Cavaradossi in Puccini’s Tosca at Princeton Festival and his first assumption of the title role of Verdi’s Stiffelio at Sarasota Opera. In style and sensibility, his singing harks back to the lot of romantic tenors who reigned supreme before the internet ruined everything, but much like Gioconda herself, Enzo’s music is crudely boisterous and declamatory in nature, designed to reflect the character’s passionate dispositions. He is, however, only masquerading as a hoodlum, and his scenes with Laura betray his noble upbringing. The role of Enzo, premiered by the great Julian Gayarre, is replete with opportunities for an artist of great caliber to unlock a portrayal of great nuance. In this first assumption of the part, Mr. Starsky embraced the challenge, intelligently crafting his lyric instrument to make its impact without blowing past its natural proportions. The second act features Enzo’s famous aria, “Cielo e mar” likely to seduce the leading tenor into the dangerous territory. A certain tension was palpable as Mr. Starsky engaged in artful negotiation with his patrician instrument, convincing it into conquering, one by one, the various hurdles of the testing scene. To the audience, which broke out in cheers by the end, it was as exciting as a bullfight, and it set Mr. Starsky on the path to score another triumph in Pittsburgh. This assumption as Enzo Grimaldo matches Mr. Starsky’s tendency to veer towards heroic assignments (he returns to Sarasota next March as Manrico in Verdi’s Il Trovatore, and is likely to drag this blog up to Wichita (!) when he adds Dick Johnson in Puccini’s La Fanciulla del West (!!) to his growing repertoire). Will this prove to be too much too soon for this promising young voice? Only time will tell, but until then – we have an Enzo.
By all accounts, the evening’s greatest reveal was the introduction of mezzo-soprano Alice Chung in the role of Laura. This young artist, who just last year swept several awards at various singing competitions and is now embarking into her career, already possesses the technical knowhow to manifest her tremendous talent in a manner that stunned the audience. Her tone is clear and devoid of any artificial over-darkening in its production, thus achieving a “brilliant” (as opposed to opaque) darkness. Access to the chest (which modern schooling often discourages) is solidly integrated with the rest of the registers, and Ms. Chung engages it throughout the scale with taste and natural flare. The splendor of this voice is imposing at every register with no apparent need to force, either at the start of a phrase or at its zenith. This was evident in her delivery of Laura’s prayer, “Stella nel marinar”, where the instrument was deployed with shocking simplicity and abandonment. Subsequent challenges, be it the love duet with Mr. Starsky or the feisty confrontation with Ms. Boross (opera’s version of “The boy is mine” and Ms. Chung is Monica) were conquered with aplomb well beyond her years. If she continues to pursue the methods promoting this type of singing, this blog is sure to develop an unhealthy interest in her next career moves.
Coming right out of the gate to represent the lower voices was baritone Sebastian Catana as Barnaba. While his art is not unknown to this blog, having heard him in several comprimario assignments in New York in the mid-2000s before he made the switch to principal roles. Now in the second decade of his career, he greeted the audience as Barnaba himself: with somber scowl, braced knee and sporting a cane to support his failing stance. Mr. Catana’s baritone may not be the most sumptuous but remains a characterful instrument of commanding size and extension. He also knows exactly how to wield the instrument to fit the part, gracing his song with the grunts and sneers which qualify the role as a fascinating link between the anabaptists in Meyerbeer’s Le Prophete, Jago in Verdi’s Otello and Scarpia in Puccini’s Tosca. The success of his assumption was only truly challenged by his Act I aria “O monumento,” which called out some tonal inconsistencies in his scale, but by that point the audience was already fully enraptured in his spell. The long list of principals was rounded off by the sadistic Alvise of bass Marco Spotti. Like his dramatic counterpart La Cieca, Alvise stage time is limited, but his shadow looms ever present throughout the opera. Mr. Spotti’s opportunity came in Act III, and he dragged the audience into the depths of Alvise’s dark, Machiavellian heart by capitalizing on the booming low notes in the aristocrat’s aria “Là turbini e farnetichi.” His scale lost some sparkle as it ascended upwards to its conclusion, where a heady production inserted distracting yawn-like element to his production. Alongside Mr. Catana and Ms. Cornetti, he knew how to make the most out of the sparse blocking devised by Director Gina Lapinski, remaining the malevolent aristocrat even as he silently enjoyed the entertainment at his own party from a most privileged vantage point.
While not perfect, Pittsburgh Festival Opera’s production of Ponchielli’s La Gioconda upholds the values established last year when the company premiered its new format as a concert opera outfit: Revivals of ambitious, often ignored masterpieces, and an unapologetic focus singing in the grand style. As our world continues to prioritize all things plastic, Pittsburgh Festival Opera has proudly joined the resistance. For more information on Pittsburgh Festival Opera, and to click on all the things to ensure we see you there next year, please visit www.pittsburghfestivalopera.org.
-Daniel Vasquez