Submitted to Oxford Magazine for publication 

Spittin’ Cousins

Gaetano Donizetti: Maria Stuarda, The Met in HD encore, 22 January 2013

Of Donizetti’s output of some seventy operas, a fair number are based on incidents in English and Scottish history and literature or rather on history mediated by romantic novelists and dramatists.  From Sir Walter Scott come Lucia di Lammermoor (1835) and Elisabetta al Castello di Kenilworth (1829), after various Italian sources we have Emilia di Liverpool (1824), Anna Bolena  (1830) and Roberto Devereux, Conte d’Essex (1837).There are also, from earlier periods Alfredo il grande (1824) and Rosmonda d’Inghilterra  (1834) from the time of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine. By far from least of these is Maria Stuarda (1834) based on episodes from Schiller’s play Mary Stuart, itself a fictionalised account of the life and death of Mary Queen of Scots. Not frequently staged, like Anna Bolena it demands well matched soprano and mezzo-soprano singer-actresses of the highest calibre, backed up by supporting men of similar quality. Described as a late flowering of opera seria, it certainly has the vocal gymnastics of that genre in the first of three acts. However Acts II and III have more the characteristics of tragédie lyrique.

This production is the first at the Met, though it had its United States’ premiere in New York in 1996. It is directed by David McVicar on his best behaviour. There are six characters: Maria, Elisabetta (Queen Elizabeth I), Roberto (Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester), Giorgio (George Talbot), Guglielmo (William Cecil) and Anna (Jane Kennedy). They are played on this occasion respectively by Joyce DiDonato, a young Elza van den Heever making her Met debut, Matthew Polenzani, Matthew Rose, Joshua Hopkins and Maria Zifchak. The conductor was Maurizio Benini who provided a thrilling accompaniment with well -judged and stylish rubato. The set design of John Macfarlane deserves special mention, though the intended illusion that we were viewers in an Elizabethan theatre did not quite work (it didn’t matter).  The woodland scene in the grounds of Fotheringay, where the contrived ‘unexpected’ meeting of the two Queens took place, was most effective.

In Act I Elizabeth is dithering between head and heart, whether to marry into the French Royal Family or her boyfriend Leicester who is now in love with Mary who is confined to Fotheringay Castle. Leicester and Talbot, Mary’s custodian, plead for her release, supported by a letter and portrait sent to Leicester asking him to arrange a meeting with her cousin while Cecil supports the French alliance. In the second scene the meeting takes place in the park outside Mary’s prison. Mary tries to be obsequious but loses her cool and engages in a slanging match with Elizabeth. In Act II (nine years on, we are told) Elizabeth is again dithering, this time over whether to sign Mary’s death warrant, following discovery of her implication in a plot against Elizabeth. Urged on by Cecil she signs the warrant, commanding Leicester to act as witness to the execution. In Act III, Talbot breaks the news to Mary who unburdens her soul to him. Leicester arrives. He and Mary’s lady-in-waiting Anna accompany her to her execution on which the curtain falls.

Act I scene 1 and Act II belong to Elizabeth supported by the men. Van den Heever makes her appearance in a voluminous bright red dress revealing assured stage presence and a spectacular bel canto voice. In the second scene, set in the woodland park, she holds her own in the confrontation with Mary which ends with an exchange of insults in full belto which must be a contender for the most vicious in any opera (and in one production actually led to blows). In the interval between Act I and Act II she changes from red to blue, has added rouge to her white cheeks and become the Virgin Queen. Maria Zifchak makes a brief but telling appearance as Mary’s lady-in waiting offering comfort and support. Of the men, Talbot was especially good though as with the others rather overwhelmed by the personalities of the two Queens. Leicester was underplayed. Although he sang well enough, he failed to convey any emotion in having to feign continuing love for Elizabeth while trying to gain compassion for Mary. He received her portrait as if being handed an iPad and showed no reaction to being compelled to witness his love’s execution.  However, by the end the show belonged to Joyce DiDonato. This performance must establish her as one of, if not the, outstanding mezzo-sopranos of recent years, the culmination of her previous run of successes. She had the opportunity to display her full range of vocal talents from high coloratura to a deep contralto growl with a beautiful lyric line between. But beyond that she inhabits her roles with appropriate body language and facial expression. For the cinema audience she acts to the camera so intimately that we forget she is belting it out to the vast Metropolitan auditorium. One slight weakness of the performance is that the polyglot voices of the cast do not have the clear sound of native-born Italian – more a bel canto esperanto (if I may borrow from a French critic of Barbara Bonney’s baroque esperanto).

This was a great operatic occasion. We were introduced to one of the supreme bel canto operas of Donizetti in an impeccable new production. We heard the exciting new voice of soprano Elza van den Heever. The TV direction of Gary Halvorson was for once faultless and unobtrusive, enabling a worldwide audience to see and to hear Joyce DiDonato establish herself as one of the greatest of the singer-actors of her generation.

28 January 2013