Author : Johan Uytterschaut
I got to know Giordano’s “Fedora” through a recording made in the New York Metropolitan, 25 years ago. Serving “stars” were Mirella Freni and Plácido Domingo. Back then, it appears to have been common practice to suspend the show for a minute or so to welcome the diva assoluta with a storm of applause at her first appearance. I am happy to say this shows to what extent habits have changed in the New York opera since Peter Gelb came into office. Not only are this kind of “Italian” situations good and well in the past, the production then was of a perplexing silliness, everything turning around the voice, and nothing but the voice.
Except maybe for the scenery. It is a interesting finding that dramatic trends, after the German empty scenery aesthetics of 20-30 years ago, returned to the luscious furnishings Franco Zeffirelli used in his screen-version of La Traviata. Robert Carsen pointed in this direction some time ago, and now David McVickar and set designer Charles Edwards have come back home. That makes the impression this new production leaves not very different from the one that was shown 25 years ago. For a play, set in a very specific historical frame, like “Fedora”, this seems to be arguable. After all, the way the characters are directed is far more important than the set. And it helps that this team developed cunning solutions for situations that in the old days ended up in clichés. One example. In the first act, the mortally wounded Vladimir Andreyevich is put to bed behind the scene, where he and his attendants are barely audible at best. And sometimes this is simply the best solution, as for instance in the second act of “Tosca”, where Cavaradossi is being tortured by Scarpia’s tormentors. In the case of “Fedora” however, a doctor comes to open a door, displays a meaningless gesture and disappears again. This production uses a semi-transparent scenery cloth behind which Vladimir’s sickbed is visible, but only when highlighted. That allows Fedora’s worries to be connected directly to what is happening out of her field of vision.
This being said, we turn our attention to the music. “Fedora” is not Giordano’s master piece; it is no match for “Andrea Chenier”. And yet, it certainly has its merits. It is clearly moving in Puccini’s slipstream on the one hand and the Italian verismo’s on the other by it’s fearless experiments in scoring and in the voice-orchestra ratio. Some surprisingly interesting passages prove that the composer was no longer willingly adapting the Italian post-belcanto tradition. And there is also a notable interest in the new medium of moving pictures (as Puccini later on demonstrated as well): more than one scene is acted without words against an orchestral décor. Nothing to do with melodrama or pantomime; rather an (Wagnerian, in a sense) orchestral comment on what is going on. By the way, the score is in excellent hands with Marco Armiliato.
A few words on the vocal input. Contrary to the somewhat hysterical/pathetic drama we find in Leoncavallo’s or Mascagni’s music, Giordano is tending towards a more realistic kind of melody; still unmistakably trans-Alpine, but rather lyrically developed as Puccini did (violinata included), and even reminding of Jules Massenet’s French elegance. This writing misses some organic consistency in the first act (the drama being a bit crumbly there because far-fetched). But in the second and third act the play is well construed, requiring a first class cast, which New York had (largely) available. Sonya Yoncheva (Fedora) and Piotr Beczała (Loris) did a very decent job; maybe a bit vocally overzealous at times, but, well, who cares? By the way, it struck me how Beczała’s medium register has darkened over the years. Always interesting to notice to what extent the human voice is an evolving thing. Artur Rucinski was planned to sing the part of de Siriex; he was substituted a week before the premiere by American baritone Lucas Meachem, who didn’t convince me, his singing technique being inconsistent. I doubt whether his voice carries far enough for the house.
I was very much convinced by Rosa Feola, singing Olga. I was impressed by her Gilda, a few years ago, and she delivered the same demonstration of quality, both vocally and dramatically, with verve.
Conclusion: “Fedora” is no title to make history in itself, but it deserves a place in the repertoire. The question is: find a cast and a production team up to championing this opera. The Metropolitan did that honourably.
Watch the revival at Kinepolis on 23.01