Once again I decided to turn to YouTube to experience an opera performance in cyberspace. This time the occasion was a double bill of one-act operas presented by the Livermore Valley Opera last month. The first half of the program was devoted to Alexander von Zemlinsky’s Opus 16 opera “Eine florentinische Tragödie” (a Florentine tragedy). This was followed by Giacomo Puccini’s “Gianni Schicchi,” the last of the three one-act operas he collected under the title Il trittico (the triptych). Each opera was given its own YouTube file (hence the two hyperlinks). Both operas were staged by Layna Chianakas, and the conductor was Alex Katsman.
Zemlinsky’s Opus 16, composed in 1916, involves an “eternal triangle” narrative based on “A Florentine Tragedy,” the only fragment of a play that Oscar Wilde never completed. Perhaps the most significant context for the narrative is that of Richard Strauss’ Opus 59 comic opera Der Rosenkavalier (the knight of the rose), first performed in 1911. It is generally taken for granted that the introductory music that precedes the raising of the curtain is intended to depict a series of highly energetic acts of sexual congress, and it does not take very much imagination to recognize what the fanfare-like passage for the French horns represents. When the curtain rises, the very first words of the libretto are basically a variation on, “Was it good for you, too?”
Zemlinsky’s overture is just as explicit, however in the staging by Chianakas, the lights come up on the stage almost immediately. Unfortunately, the eroticism of the score is somewhat undermined. We first see the merchant Simone (Robert Mellon) taking leave of his wife Bianca (Anush Avetisyan), after which Bianca’s lover Guido Bardi (Michael Day) makes his first appearance; and the “action” begins to reflect the music. Since the text itself begins with Simone returning home, Chianakas’ conception is a little more than inconsistent. However, once she starts working from the libretto itself, rather than the instrumental music, she becomes far more effective in her staging.
Nevertheless, there is still a problem in the overall setting. According to the synopsis given on the YouTube page, the opera takes place in Florence in 1917 (the year in which it was first performed); and this is definitely consistent with the costumes. However, Wilde’s setting was sixteenth-century Florence, which provides a clearer context for the motives behind the libretto.
Simone (Robert Mellon) showing his wares to Guido Bardi (Michael Day) while his wife (Anush Avetisyan) looks on suspiciously (photograph by Barbara Mallon, from the Facebook photo album for “A Florentine Tragedy”)
With the status of a prince, Guido Bardi is only accountable to his royal father and basically has carte blanche for any other activities. Simone, on the other hand, is a prosperous merchant but must still “know his place” in the presence of royalty. Regardless of how Wilde would have completed his play, in the opera libretto based on Max Meyerfeld’s translation of Wilde, Simone has no trouble understanding what the prince is doing in his house; but, at the same time, he knows that his future demands that he “know his place” in such a situation.
That context does not translate readily into 1917. Nevertheless, Chianakas’ direction goes a long way towards developing the motives of each of the three characters, even if those motives are occasionally anachronistic. In other words she lets the love triangle unfold according to the text of the libretto; and, for the most part, she avoids any significant pitfalls of anachronism.
At this point it is important to observe that the libretto itself concludes with one of the most outrageous punch lines of any narrative. The shock value is so strong that I would prefer not to disclose it for the benefit of those that have not seen this opera in performance or read its libretto. Similarly, those seeing this opera for the first time would do well to pass on the synopsis text provided on the YouTube Web page. Suffice it to say that Chianakas appreciated the impact of that punch line and did not short-change it in the least.
Indeed, my only source of discontent involves the nature of the video itself. The titles have been consigned to the very bottom of the screen. This is not a problem when viewing this video on a computer. However, I decided to try watching it through the YouTube app provided by the xfinity cable service. Due to the difference in aspect ratios, the bottom line of the titles was often obscured. Given my familiarity with the libretto, this was not a major problem for me; but I figured that a cautionary observation should be offered.
Where “Gianni Schicchi” was concerned, however, this “technical difficulty” was more noticeable. Probably for reasons of bandwidth, the clarity of the xfinity image was decidedly poorer than that encountered on my computer. (Mind you, this may be a matter of the computer having a connection with better bandwidth than the bandwidth feeding into my cable box.)
Fortunately, bandwidth was the only problem where this second opera was involved. Chianakas’ approach to the libretto Giovacchino Forzano prepared for Puccini never missed a trick, and she probably pulled a few rabbits of her own out of her hat. (The ceramic dog by the side of the bed counts as one of those rabbits.)
In addition “Gianni Schicchi” is the only opera of the two on the program with a show-stopping aria. That, of course, is Lauretta’s “O mio babbino caro,” which was sung by Avetisyan with all the sincerity necessary to make it sound convincing. (I still remember Patricia Racette’s delivery for the Fall 2009 season of the San Francisco Opera, when she pre-empted applause with a fit of bawling that could well have been inspired by Edward Gorey’s “The Beastly Baby.”) It was interesting to see Avetisyan coupled again with Day as Rinuccio, this time engaged in a less illicit relationship. On the other hand Mellon returned as Schicchi; and it was delightful to see him in a less menacing character, attentive to every detail (including the citation of Dante Alighieri in the epilogue). (The other feature that linked the two operas is that both sets had the same view of Florence in the background.)
I remember first hearing about this program near the beginning of the season. For better or worse, I now rely almost entirely on public transportation, and my driver’s license has been replaced by the Senior Citizen Identification Card issued by the Department of Motor Vehicles. I could not have been more delighted to learn that Livermore Valley Opera had prepared these video documents. For me they were the best possible alternative to being there.
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