Texte paru dans: / Appeared in: Naïve Code-barres / Barcode: 709861304929 |
|
|
Outil de traduction (Très approximatif) |
|
|
Reviewer:
David Vickers
Lovers of 18th-century opera might be familiar with the tale of the crusader
Rinaldo distracted from his duty by his entanglement with the seductive
Damascene sorceress Armida. Giovanni Palazzi’s libretto
Armida al campo
d’Egitto
is freely adapted from subsequent incidents in Tasso’s epic Gerusalemme liberata
and concerns the enchantress’s capricious meddling while she resides among the
Caliph’s Islamic army in Gaza. The first production of Vivaldi’s setting took
place at Venice’s tiny Teatro Guistiniano di San Moisè during the 1718 Carnival
but the music of Act 2 is now lost: the missing middle part has been
reconstructed with admirable sense, integrity and openness by Alessandrini and
Frédéric Delaméa.
Naïve’s latest operatic instalment in its epic Vivaldi Edition offers plenty of
musical details to admire. The recitatives during the opening scene are sterile,
without sufficient sense of dramatic occasion, but subsequently the singers
usually characterise their parts neatly. Raffaella Milanesi, Marina Comparato
and Romina Basso are all on fine form as the disputing participants in a complex
network of quarrelling lovers. Alessandrini’s shapely and sensitive direction
gets the best out of Monica Bacelli and Martín Oro; some of the latter’s
technical frailties are exposed in Tisaferno’s pathetic “Quando in seno”.
Surprisingly Furio Zanasi lacks the authoritative presence that the Egyptian
Caliph ought to possess but duets shrewdly with a bassoon in “Chi alla colpa fa
tragitto”. Sara Mingardo seems to relish the machinations and flirtations of the
titlerole; her Act 3 showpiece “Tender lacci tù volesti” is the only aria to
feature horns. Almost all other music is scored simply for strings and continuo
but within such economical instrumental parameters Vivaldi creates delightful
and versatile accompaniments: Tisaferno’s “D’un bel volto arde alla face”
features the delicate sonority of a lightly tripping bass part (harpsichord,
violins and violas) over which obbligato violin and cello alternate graceful
arpeggios; creeping strings gently convey Emireno’s hopefulness that his
unrequited love will change but also hint that he entertains little real
optimism (“Il mio fedele amor”); Armida’s jaunty “Tra l’oscura di nimbi e
procelle” juxtaposes concertino and ripienists; divided violas provide a denser
tempestuous texture for Adrasto’s “Agitata de venti dall’onte”. Alessandrini’s direction is unfailingly astute and he conveys playfulness in elegant ways. Concerto Italiano’s violinists play with alert finesse. Armida does not seem to be one of Vivaldi’s most impressive works, notwithstanding a compelling final act, but it receives one of the most convincing performances of Naïve’s series so far. |
|
