SET OF SHADOWS AND LIGHT: Verdi�¢ï¿½ï¿½s �¢ï¿½ï¿½Il Trovatore�¢ï¿½ï¿½ opened San Francisco Opera�¢ï¿½ï¿½s 87th season on Sept. 11, 2009.(Robert Kusel)
Nicola Luisotti now bears the mantle established by his illustrious predecessors, the English Sir John Pritchard and the Scottish Donald Runnicles.
Since the San Francisco Opera’s announcement two years and eight months ago of Luisotti’s appointment, since he conducted last year’s production of La Bohème, and since he was featured as a guest conductor of the San Francisco Symphony in March, rivers of ink have flowed about the enigmatic conductor. Naturally, this year’s season-opener with Verdi’s Il Trovatore was laden with excitement—and with a dash of skepticism.
Yet moments into the music, one could hear a qualitative change in the orchestra’s sound. Whether a result of the new chemistry between conductor and orchestra, a side-effect of the slightly raised pit, or simply a musical “placebo” effect caused by the massive publicity in advance of Luisotti’s arrival–it is hard to know for sure.
Whatever the case, this is definitely a positive change.
The opera itself is a tragic tale of love, cruelty, and murder, set to music by the master of Italian opera, Giuseppe Verdi. It is based on the work of Spanish playwright Antonio Gutierrez.
Sometime in 15th-century Spain, Count Di Luna is convinced that his young son is ill due to witchcraft and orders a certain gypsy woman burnt at the stake in order to break the evil spell. The gypsy’s daughter named Azucena–herself the mother of a young boy–kidnaps the count’s son in a desperate attempt to trade his life for that of her mother, but arrives too late.
As the flames devour Azucena’s mother, she throws the count’s abducted son into the fire in a fit of vengeful wrath, only to realize in chilling horror, that she has unwittingly burned her own son alive by mistake.
Azucena raises the count’s son as her dead boy Manrico, who grows into a handsome troubadour–“trovatore” in Italian–and whose sweet melodies capture the heart of a certain Leonora.
The count’s second son becomes the new Count Di Luna after his father’s death, and also falls in love with Leonora. Being a powerful and wealthy man–not to mention lethally jealous–the count manages to capture Manrico, whom he intends to kill over the woman they both love.
Leonora vows to marry the count in exchange for Manrico’s life, but soon commits suicide to get out of the bargain. This enrages the count, so he hangs Manrico. Only then does Azucena reveal to the count that he has killed, not a rival, but his own long-lost brother.
The story ends with a perfect example of operatic justice when the count pays the price for the long-ago death of a gypsy woman, and has to live out his days knowing he has killed his own flesh and blood, eerily sharing Azucena’s fate.
American soprano Sondra Radvanovsky was ravishing as Leonora. Her perfectly controlled high notes in the aria “D’amor sull’ali rosee” (“On the Rosey Wings of Love”) of Act 4–where Leonora sings of her concern for Manrico while pacing outside the prison–drew the evening’s loudest cheers.
Singing the troubadour’s part was Italian tenor Marco Berti, who did a fine job carrying the added burden of, not only being the opera’s leading tenor, but being a leading tenor who happens to be a singer in the story itself.
Berti’s aria “Ah, sì ben mio” (“Ah, My Beloved”), was one of the opera’s highlights, in which Manrico longs for death knowing that Leonora has agreed to marry the count.
Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky, who appears frequently in important roles with the San Francisco Opera, sang the part of Count di Luna with command and authority. First-timer mezzo soprano Stephanie Blythe made a lasting impression in the complicated and disturbing character of Azucena.
Under Chorus Director Ian Robertson’s leadership, the band of gypsies, nuns, and ordinary 15th- century Spaniards played a crucial part in the opera’s success.
Each scene was treated as though a delicately balanced painting, where the interplay of shadow and light filled open spaces, creating a kind of picture book to accompany the story.
David McVicar and Walter Sutcliffe co-directed the production with the finest of sets, costumes, and choreography at their disposal.
Clearly, San Francisco Opera is charting its own artistic course through the rough waters of the world’s worst economic crisis ever. In contrast, this opening night was nothing but smooth sailing all around.
Of course, with Captain Luisotti now at the helm, San Francisco Opera may as well be the QE2.
Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the San Francisco Bay Area.
