On the face of it Trovatore is one of Verdi's most popular opera, regularly appearing in the top twenty in the league of opera performances across the world. And why not? Packed full of instantly recognisable 'tunes', full of verve and vigour, it seems like the classic template for Italian opera, an easy way in for beginners and a satisfying night out for more experienced opera lovers. However, in recent years (and not so recent), it seems to have acquired a 'difficult' reputation. Branded 'old-fashioned' and 'melodramatic' it has been an easy target for parody with everyone from the Marx Brothers, Gilbert and Sullivan and there is even a memorable Tiny Toons parody of the Anvil Chorus.
On the surface it has a bog-standard opera plot (soprano loves tenor who returns that love, but is thwarted by baritone who also loves our heroine) so not much too ridicule there you would have thought. And yet the criticism most often thrown is that the plot is either ridiculous or too complicated. Personally, I've never had a problem with the plot - I have other problems but the actual plot isn't one of them.
So for those not familiar with Il Trovatore here is the briefest of summaries. It is the story of two brothers, separated in infancy when a gypsy kidnaps the younger child in revenge for her mother's death at the stake. This younger son is raised by the gypsy in total ignorance of his origins. All of this takes place before the curtain goes up. The brothers grow up to be rivals in love and war and the opera takes us through the subsequent events until the final tragic denouement.
So far, so typical.
However, there is another important character in this opera, and one so pivotal that Verdi originally considered naming the opera after her - Azucena, the gypsy who not only set the original events in motion, by kidnapping the Count di Luna's younger son, but is haunted by her own mother's death at the stake and her cries of revenge. A revenge that Azucena feels compelled to seek without really knowing the ultimate outcome but pursuing it with dogged determination none the less.
Perhaps I've been unlucky in my encounters with this opera but I've never really seen a production (either live or on DVD) that fully embraces the darkness inherent in the story. Most of them have been 'picture postcard' costume dramas, concentrating on local gypsy colouring or the love triangle or the production of beautiful sounds above dramatic values. None has really got to the dark heart of the story - this is an opera about a woman who is prepared to sacrifice, if required, the child she has brought up from infancy as her own, as long as she obtains the revenge demanded by her mother. It is the relationship between mother and supposed son that is the most fascinating one in this opera. And yet I've never seen a production that reflects this...until recently that is.
But before I go rushing ahead I have a confession to make...I don't really like the tenor role in this opera. I know, shocking really. I am a huge fan of the tenor voice (as you may have guessed from my blog posts) but there is just something about this particular role that I don't really get. I'm afraid I've probably seen too many productions (yes I'm looking at you Arena di Verona) where the role is based solely around one aria and how loud, how long and how high you can sing a particular note. Frankly that sort of exhibitionism does nothing for me and I tend to roll my eyes in despair when tenors indulge in these sort of antics. Especially if they've got nothing else to offer. So to say Di Quella Pira is a particular bug-bear of mine is putting it mildly.
So I was intrigued, (not to say slightly appalled) when it was announced that the tenor du jour (and my current favourite) would be taking on the role of Manrico for the first time. Really? Now while I admire Jonas Kaufmann for carefully ticking off each Verdi tenor role in pursuit of his ultimate dream role of Otello, I would not necessarily have said that Manrico was a must-sing. Aida... yes, Stiffelio....absolutely. Alvaro...yes please. Manrico...hmmmmm. But then I am not a musician or a tenor so what do I know? Perhaps he's always nursed a secret urge brandish a sword and throw off a high C (or B) with the best of them. I remained to be convinced.
And so it came to pass that in order to prepare myself for this important event I started digging around, researching the opera a bit more thoroughly, listened to recordings, watched DVD's and haunted YouTube like a demon, in search of the elusive perfect performance. Along the way I discovered that there really wasn't that much choice when it came to appealing versions on DVD. However on these occasions I always fall back on the Godfather of Tenors....Placido Domingo. Now while Placido holds all the trump cards for me vocally (my own opinion) even he could not convince me that Manrico was little more than a standard 'tenor as lover/hero' role. The production from Vienna in the late Seventies is wholly traditional in design and costuming which does absolutely nothing to dispel my doubts about this opera. Don't get me wrong, I like a traditionally set opera as much (perhaps more) than the next person, but for some reason it seems to obscure the real story going on here. The singing is more that adequate (Kaibavanska, Cossotto and Cappucilli) but it's very much opera by numbers and didn't convert me to the cause.
As an aside it's obvious that Domingo loves this opera as he is returning to it in his baritenor disguise as the Count di Luna with Netrebko as Leonora and Antonenko as Manrico. I'm sure that musically he will give it his all - he is an intelligent and tasteful musician after all. But dramatically? Well, let's just say I have my doubts - that's one hell of an age gap between the two brothers!
And on that note, and before this post outstays its welcome, I'll finish. But in Part 2 I'll discuss a couple of recent-ish productions that have some interesting points to make or at least piqued my interest; an ROH production from 2002 and of course, the most recently broadcast version from Munich with Jonas Kaufmann and Anja Harteros...complete with naked dancing babies, gypsy grandmothers and a tenor being sawn in half...but until then here's a gratuitous picture of Jonas looking hot in a leather coat....with a naked granny
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