An opera staged in 2023 in the context of the coronation of King Charles sounds most timely and dramatic and comic opportunities abound. Might we see the Duke and Duchess of Sussex portrayed as akin to Telramund and Ortrud? Could there be a chorus of ex-Prime Ministers? One awaits one’s call from the Palace but the opera in question, put on by the enterprising English Touring Opera, instead relates to the coronation of Charles X of France, rather than our own Charles III.
Rossini’s Il viaggio a Reims, a work thought to be lost since its premiere in 1825 until the painstaking rediscovery and reconstruction in the 1970s, is a bizarre piece, a work that might be born of an unholy combination of Fawlty Towers and an EU summit. The basic premise is that a group of European dignitaries is en route to Charles’ coronation in Reims, a journey broken by a stay at Madame Cortese’s spa hotel, the Golden Lily, in which the personalities, peculiarities and peccadilloes of the travellers are unleashed.
Much of the music will be familiar to anyone who has seen the more popular – and far better – Le Comte Ory, written several years later, for which Rossini, ever the green composer, recycled large chunks of Viaggio. The opera requires a large number of soloists with demanding arias and duets. Popular opinion leans towards the piece as a comic gem but, perhaps because of the sheer size of the cast, it often seems to be inferior to his true masterpieces, despite the quality of music. Unfortunately ETO’s new production by Valentina Ceschi did little to dispel such notions. Adam Wiltshire’s warm period setting – lavish costumes, the balmy backdrop of northeastern France, the conveniently portable potted plants – is easy on the eye, particularly in the garden scene early on in Act 3, but the production is dramatically and comically inert, relying on stock gestures and frankly dated choreography.
There is far too much of the highwayman performance – stand and deliver! – and when the signature gag is a small balloon floating around the stage then something has gone wrong in the conceptual process, though it should be mentioned that the audience reaction throughout was mirthful. The one interesting moment comes at the finale, at which point Corinna, the Russian poetess, seems to be caged; perhaps Ceschi is attempting to reflect on the despotic tendencies of Charles’ reign, but the theme is unexplored save for a couple of protesting servants.
The musical side was, alas, not significantly better, though one or two singers stood out for quality of performance. Esme Bronwen-Smith’s smoky mezzo-soprano was noticeable in the role of the Marchessa Melibea, the legato smooth and the diction clear. Bass Edward Hawkins, towering over the rest of the cast, was an appealingly awkward Lord Sidney, giving a surprisingly lyrical “Invan strappar dal core”, the lower voice secure and resonant. Luci Briginshaw sang the Contessa with a delicate trill, but extended forays in the higher register were not altogether successful. Susanna Hurrell’s Corinna was elegantly sung, but underpowered, while tenor Julian Henao Gonzalez was badly miscast as the Conte di Libenskof, the coloratura proving too much for him despite an energetic stage presence. The troubles extended to the pit, where Jonathan Peter Kenny led the Old Street Band in a ponderous reading of the score, often overwhelming the singers with a performance that was far from note perfect.
With the cuts in funding hobbling other companies, ETO’s role in the operatic ecology of this country is ever more important. This was a rare fluff for an enterprising company that normally delivers a solid performance and perhaps, despite the apt subject, it was unwise to programme a work which demands so many singers at such a high level.
