I went to this with quite low expectations. The critics, pro-and-am, had been underwhelmed and underwhelming. It is not a Verdi opera with which I am especially familiar. I do have a taped-off-the-telly video of this same production from 1993, with José Carreras and Catherine Malfitano, but it's not Josep at his best and Catherine, I can take or leave. I have also downloaded a 1995 Madrid performance, but as I am yet to teach my PC to play .avi files, I am yet to watch it. I would provide a link to the ROH website but that is out of order until Thursday...
The cast: Stiffelio José Cura
Lina Sondra Radvanovsky
Stankar Roberto Frontali
Raffaele von Leuthold Reinaldo Macias
Jorg Alastair Miles
Federico di Frengel Nikola Matiic
Dorotea Liora Grodnikaite
Stick-waver - Mark Elder
My major gripe was that throughout, the directorial conceit was only partly to raise the front-drop, so that the surtitles were actually projected onto this. I know I had a cheap ticket, but when I bought it as restricted view, knowing that I would not be able to see the portion of the set under the overhang, I had expected to be able to see more than just the front of the stage. There was a (Croatian) couple sitting next to me; she said she will complain when she gets her feedback email; he had a wry sense of humour and suggested that we got a good impression of the church and churchyard.
There was a point in the first act when I questioned whether I would last beyond the interval, but I'm glad that I did, because it got a lot better.
Regarding the singers, I thought Sondra Radvanovsky was awful, but 80% of a random sample of strangers disagreed - although one suggested it was a voice you either love or hate: she 'loves' but can understand the 'hate'. In fairness, as far as I could tell, she had very good sense of pitch and a good sense of phrasing, and below about halfway down the staff she had a pleasant if unremarkable tone.
But as she moved up, the tone was increasingly unpleasant. I found that just about everything above the staff was screeched or squawked loudly. It was physically grating, almost painful, to hear, like a cat in heat: I almost ended up blocking my ears. And at times, it really jarred - especially at the start of the final scene, when the church congregation are singing completely gorgeously and devotionally and she keeps coming in with these incongruous yells. I think I will try and avoid her in future, or tolerate her only if co-stars and/or the opera are unmissable.
José Cura was curious. I am tempted to say a Curate's Egg, but that is too much alliteration, and, anyway, his role was pastor, not curate. A really amazing stage presence and intense believable acting; I was particularly impressed by his dramatic fall to the floor in despair on finding the truth of Lina's adultery. And, I have to confess that at one point I did have the thought 'I wouldn't kick him out of bed'. Vocally, I am not so sure. At times he sounded more baritonal than any tenor I have ever heard, which in itself is not a bad thing, but it did reveal many strains on higher notes. And in places I felt there was such an absence of lyricism in his voice that I just felt sad. But then, there was much to please: 'Ah sì, voliamo al tempio' was a thing of sheer beauty.
My favourite singer was Roberto Frontali as Stankar, although I would say he was not exactly top drawer. I found his legato exquisite but his passaggio was troublesome. Not a great actor but with considerable dignity. I ended up having considerable sympathy for his character against my better instinct. I think I would enjoy him tremendously as Germont pere and probably as Renato in Ballo. I also really liked Alastair Miles as the religious-extremist freak Jorg, although it was a relatively small role that did not showcase his ability very much.
But what made the evening worthwhile was the music and the story. The music is not as instantly hummable or memorable as that from Verdi's Middle Period, and not as dramatic as Don Carlo(s), Aida, Verdi etc. But it is a wonderful addition to the Verdi repertoire. I say that because its Covent Garden première was as recently as 1993, and the manuscript was found during my lifetime! Particularly memorable is the liturgical music; the graveyard scene is moving and gorgeous, with superb writing for off-stage chorus.
I have found myself purchasing the recommended recording - Verdi - Stiffelio
The story is compelling and thought provoking. Basically, a story about adultery - Lina had an affair in her Pastor husband's absence, which was a dishonour to her father. Of course, with my 21st century sensibilities, I would take the view that these things are best forgotten and forgiven, or, at least swept under the carpet, which would lead to greater happiness.
And I was very angry about these men thinking with their dicks. It was as if, for Stiffelio, the thought of having to put it where another dick had been was more unbearable than the thought of losing the wife he claimed to love. And for the father, her shame in letting some man in was so great that he was morally justified in killing the man. Being entirely cynical, I would expect that Stiffelio had his end away with some naive innocent hero-worshipper when visiting his far-flung congregation. And Stankor was a retired great soldier. Hmm. But my 21st century reaction only serves to highlight the impossibility of the situation in a strict Protestant sect in the 19th century. Nothing was worse than a woman to 'be seduced'; the consequences were ruination, both economically and reputationally. Conveniently divorced from her husband (because he had married under a pseudonym) and outcast from her family. In the end Stiffelio forgave her, because a random passage in the bible instructed him to. This accords with both Verdi's and my view of religion - that the hypocrites running the organised church usually forget the real meaning of the Bible in their desire to be seen as devotional.
In conclusion, a worthwhile evening, but a qualified success.
Update: And then there's this...
