It is a rare opportunity indeed to be able to listen to two settings of the same libretto in the same city, within a few months of each other. And yet this is what we have been offered in the form of Metastasio’s Adriano in Siria, first with the 1765 setting of J.C. Bach last April (Ian Page/Classical Opera) and now with that of Giovanni Battista Pergolesi, composed some 30 years earlier. Consequently, this review will be comparative to some extent, and much of the background information about the play itself that I would normally include here can be found in my earlier review of Bach’s opera.
Pergolesi’s fame today rests primarily on two compositions: his setting of the Stabat mater, and the comic intermezzo La serva padrona. However, at the time of his death at only twenty-six years old, he had also composed a handful of operas, both serious and comic. Of these, several have been revived as full stage productions and recordings, notably L’Olimpiade (Alessandro de Marchi/Academia Montis Regalis) and La Salustia (Antonio Florio/Cappella de’ Turchini; Corrado Rovaris/Accademia Barocca de I Virtuosi Italiani).
The thirty-year interval between the composition of the Pergolesi and Bach Adrianos is keenly felt in the difference in style. Pergolesi, born in 1710, stylistically belongs to the early Neapolitan masters such as Leonardo Vinci, Leonardo Leo, and sometimes Johann Adolf Hasse. That is to say that the arias in his Adriano tend towards a declamatory mode, characterised by short, incisive phrases and frequently concertato-style accompaniment. By contrast, Bach’s treatment, standing at one of the many mid-way points between the two worlds of the Baroque and full-blown Viennese classicism, displays less of this (though, as I noted in my previous review, he too writes arias which are reminiscent of the earlier style). While pleasant, Bach’s setting betrays an overall feeling of languidness and often turgidity, especially compared with his other, perhaps better, operas. On the whole, therefore, I must agree with the directors of Opera Settecento that Pergolesi’s setting is the superior of the two. The music is full of both vigour and beauty, from the short opening sinfonia (lightly adapted from a previous work, the oratorio La Conversione e Morte di San Guglielmo, which would reappear as the sinfonia to L’Olimpiade) through to the equally short closing chorus.
Given that the star castrato of the original production was the (in)famous Caffarelli, immortalised for posterity as something of a diva in his own way, the opera contains a significant number of arias (almost half) which do not appear in Metastasio’s original play. While this wholesale adaptation becomes more regular as the century progresses, particularly where a composer produces multiple versions of the same libretto, this was common practice too when there was a big star to appease. These insertions – the so-called arie di baule – were typically arias drawn from the singer’s own active repertoire, frequently representing favourites of both performer and public.
Consequently, standout arias there are aplenty. Chief among these is the closing aria to Act I, Farnaspe’s Lieto così talvolta, in the pastoral key of F major, elegantly mirroring the pastoral nature of the text. It is the only aria of the opera to feature a solo instrument, here an oboe, representing the nightingale of which our forlorn lover sings. Sabina, too, gets a significant number of particularly effective arias, such as Chi soffre, senza pianto in Act I with its somewhat ethereal suspensions, the dramatically charged Ah ingrato, m’inganni, and Splenda per voi sereno in which the augusta promises to aid Farnaspe and Emirena. Other interesting effects are Farnaspe’s aria in Act II, Torbido in volto, e nero, written for two ‘cori’ of muted violins, and which also makes an appearance in L’Olimpiade.
The casting of the production felt something of a mixed bag to me. At the one end of the spectrum, we had the fantastic South African soprano Erica Eloff, who, as she did in the Bach, played Farnaspe with aplomb. Here again we were treated to her beautiful legato lines and effortless coloratura and, as I also noted in the Bach, knack for using what is often misconstrued as superfluous decoration as a tool for conveying dramatic intention to great effect: both skills which the castrati of yore were famed for! In similar fashion, Augusta Hebbert as Sabina enchanted in her numerous arias, particularly those in the first and second acts where most of the best music is to be found. Conversely, Cenk Karaferya as the tribune Aquilio was somewhat disappointing, being just enough off pitch, often enough, for it to become noticeable both in the recitative and his single aria. Michael Taylor as Adriano was the better of the two countertenors, and turned in a suitably braggadocio performance. Sometimes I felt that he lost some notes in his lower register to the orchestra, however, particularly in his aria di furia of Act II, Tutti nemici, e rei. Osroa, as the requisite lone tenor and antagonist of the opera, receives most of the vibrant aria di bravura types, which Hungarian lyric tenor Gyula Rab carried off well, if a bit wanting in vindictiveness. Maria Ostroukhova as Emirena I, notwithstanding her attractive, sensuous and otherwise very pleasing voice, felt occasionally somewhat too dark and sultry for the main pair of lovers, even though the part sits fairly low in the score.
The orchestra of Opera Settecento itself was likewise vigorous and incisive in its performance, and Leo Duarte’s reading of the score was spot-on, particularly regarding sensitivity to the rhetorical turns of Pergolesi’s accompaniment. Special mention must be given to the enthusiastic continuo playing from Chad Kelly at the harpsichord, and to the horns that provided such a lush sound in the few numbers that called for them. Overall, the evening was very successful, and any misgivings I may have are thoroughly overshadowed by the final product. Pergolesi, as an operatic composer, is clearly a winner — and his nickname of the “swan of Jesi” is justly deserved — so it would be good to hear more of him!
I look forward to the future engagements of Opera Settecento, which are planned to include an opera by Hasse, and Handel pasticcio.
Opera Settecento’s production of Pergolesi’s Adriano in Siria was performed at the Cadogan Hall on 16th September 2016.
