★★★★✰
Some combinations just work. Wine and cheese. Torvil and Dean. Cavalleria Rustica and Pagliacci.
Pietro Mascagni’s 1890 Cavalleria Rustica, and Pietro Mascagni’s 1892 Pagliacci have been performed together as an operatic double bill since 1893. It is easy to see why. The operas are two sides of the same coin; they mirror each other’s themes of infidelity, love, and jealousy, both served in the Italian verismo style garnished with the sweetness of romance and the bitterness of heartbreak. Revived at the Royal Opera House, Cav and Pag (as it is colloquially referred to) promises a night oozing with passion, lust, and Italian flare.
An uneasy continuity strings the two together. Cavalleria Rustica’s Mamma Lucia (a fragile and melancholic Elena Zilo) makes a cameo appearance in Pagliacci. Posters for the travelling clowns’ show appear in the former. But it is more than sly references to each other. Both sets are bathed in the same frail lime green light and a statue of the Virgin Mary looms over both, silently watching the melodrama.
Cavalleria Rustica’s famous intermezzo, rendered with sultry elegance by conductor Anthony Pappano, is contrasted with a moonlight meet-cute between Pagliacci’s Nedda and Silvio. There is always beauty beneath the deliberately drab yet hyper-realistic sets (one can almost smell the dirt lining the sun-baked Sicilian walls) but it is too often just out of reach for the worlds of Cav and Pag.
Director Damiano Michieletto has a curious preoccupation with fate. His revolving stage saps all characters of their autonomy leaving them trapped in a tragic prison like flies in a spider’s web. For two operas marked by death, it ossifies the marauding sense of doom whilst the glistening music cuts through the dark with an extra tug of hope.
Roberto Alagna thrills as Canio, a clown destroyed by the revelation of his wife’s infidelity. At the end of his gorgeous rendition of “Vesti la giubba”, the revolving stage sees him swallowed by darkness; it is almost as if his entire world is rejecting him. While he languishes in darkness and dejection, SeokJong Baek’s Turiddu struts around the stage boldly as he plans to run off with another woman in Cavalleria Rustica. Both have powerful stage presences, layering their vocal performances with emotional depth. Baek is particularly adept at rendering each note, giving his Turiddu a youthful brashness. There is something mature and reflective with Alagna’s more fluid vocalisation.
But the night belongs to Aleksandra Kurzak who doubles as Santuzza, Turiddu’s disconsolate lover in Cavalleria Rusticana, and as Nedda, Canio’s unfaithful wife, in Pagliacci. If anyone hits home the duality of love, it is her; Kurzak’s chameleonic vocal performance renders the desperation and celebration promised by romance with all its heart wrenching complexity.
Words by Alexander Cohen
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.