In December 2020, the Teatro alla Scala was supposed to open its season with a televised new production of Lucia di Lammermoor, performed in an empty theatre, but it was cancelled due to a Covid outburst in the cast. The same Lucia, with almost the same cast, is now presented in the 2022-23 season, Maestro Riccardo Chailly approaching the masterpiece with reverence, choosing the recent critical edition by Gabriele Dotto and Roger Parker, and performing a complete, integral version, reopening all the traditional cuts.
The musical interpretation was based on a philological approach. Many of the traditional super-high notes and variations were omitted, mostly in the part of Lucia, but also in Edgardo’s; a glass harmonica was used in the Mad Scene, as Donizetti prescribed, for a very modern, horror effect. Chailly’s reading of the score was more gothic than sentimental, expressive more than lyrical. The result was a powerful, dark performance, the orchestra following the conductor with a beautiful, rich, ominous sound. The famous Sextet was enchanting, the singers precise, the restrained explosion of the orchestra absolutely perfect. The La Scala Chorus was in customary top form, their “Oh qual funesto avvenimento” poignant, with great legato, terror and sadness pouring from every note.
Yannis Kokkos' new production is in line with Chailly’s interpretation: dark and gloomy. The colour palette is black and dark grey, with a red floodlight illuminating a panel, perhaps a reference to blood. Simple panels frame the stage in the interior scenes, with very few props; stylised trees create a forest, and large statues give indications of the settings: sporting dogs at the beginning, when hunt preparations are made; Death, with cape and sickle, to indicate the graveyard. Costumes are all in black, with the notable exception of Lucia in virginal white and a few ladies in the wedding party in red.
The action is set around the 1920s (one day I will find out why 90% of operas are transported to a period between the 1920s and the 1950s). Overall the production is uninspiring, but in its defence, I can say that it is unobtrusive and respectful of the music. Kokkos also knows how to move the chorus. There is one truly beautiful scene, at the beginning of Act 2. Edgardo sits desperately in his dilapidated castle, during a dark and stormy night (how more clichéd can it get?). The panels representing the castle are jagged, and when the strobe light hits the scene to represent lightning, those edges light up to truly look like bolts.
Lisette Oropesa gave a poignant, overwhelming interpretation of Lucia. Her detailed acting supported a soprano which seems created to sing bel canto: confident coloratura, silvery high notes, beautiful pianissimi, perfect trills. The cut of the traditional variations focused the attention on her vocal prowess, bringing to the surface even more the beauty and natural lyrical quality of her voice. Her Mad Scene was moving and exciting, Oropesa’s voice and the glass harmonica perfectly matched, while the violins supported them with a metallic, sinister tremolo.
Juan Diego Flórez confirmed his status as the greatest bel canto tenor of his generation, his performance characterised by the utmost elegance in phrasing, with luminous high notes and detailed dynamics. His “Fra poco a me ricovero” at the end was a delight of legato and sadness. He did seem a bit tired in “Bell’alma innamorata,” his voice somewhat small in this huge theatre. His acting was based perhaps on conventional gestures, but the character of the romantic hero shone through with great emotion.
Enrico, Lucia’s brother, was Boris Pinkhasovich, whose emission had a delightful old-fashioned quality with small portamenti and even some dental consonants. His baritone had great legato and was powerful and perfectly projected: he exuded villain quality. His duet with Flórez, in the aforementioned storm scene, was nothing short of spectacular.
Veteran Michele Pertusi was called to substitute for Ildebrando d’Arcangelo in the role of Raimondo, Lucia’s spiritual mentor. His bass does show some signs of wear, but his interpretation was perfectly in character, based on a strong technique, beautiful legato and intelligent phrasing. In the “minor” roles, Leonardo Cortellazzi sang Arturo (Lucia’s murdered husband) with a light, pleasant tenor, Valentina Pluzhnikova – from the Accademia – convinced in the small role of Alisa, Lucia’s confidant, with a deep, well supported mezzo, and Giorgio Misseri sang a successful Normanno.
In general there was some anxiety on stage, probably the result of premiere nerves, but the performance was warmly acclaimed.
