La pietra del paragone ('The Touchstone') was Rossini's seventh opera and undoubtedly the work with which he really made his mark. It premiered at La Scala on 26 September 1812 and was given an astonishing fifty-three performances; at the last of these, seven of the numbers were encored. The composer was only twenty years old (not twenty-two, as the DVD booklet claims!) and had a mere three works to his name at the time of commission: the opera buffa L'equivoco stravagante and the farces La cambiale di matrimonio and L'inganno felice. During the year 1812, Demetrio e Polibio, Ciro in Babilonia, La scala di seta and L'occasione fa il ladro were also given their first performances, an extraordinary achievement for so young a composer.
Of the many joys that this new DVD from Opus Arte has to offer, the greatest is without question the opportunity to hear this marvellous score in all its glory. Maestro Albert Zedda is perhaps the greatest Rossini conductor of our times. As the first conductor to attempt to create a critical edition of a score of an Italian opera and a member of the editorial board for the University of Chicago's Rossini Edition, he has a scholarly approach to this music which enhances his interpretation of style, orchestral detail and vocal ornamentation. The playing of the Orchestra of the Teatro Real, Madrid, on this DVD is nothing short of sensational - strings light but vigorous, woodwind prominent, brass precise. The tempos are all immaculately judged and Zedda's ability to hold together a large cast of soloists and chorus through some difficult concertati is breathtaking. Wonderful though Pier Luigi Pizzi's production is, it's Zedda who makes this amongst the three or four most absorbing and entertaining Rossini performances in my DVD collection.
What a production it is, though. I can't recall any opera DVD causing me to laugh out loud quite so uncontrollably as this one did - in fact, it gets more amusing as the production advances. The plot revolves around a rich man (Count Asdrubale) deciding that the only way to find out which of his three female admirers really loves him is to pretend to be poor. The spirited widow, Marchesa Clarice, is the one who feels true love for him, and she in her turn disguises herself as her twin brother and tests Asdrubale to see whether he cares for her. Around the lovers are a number of extremely well-observed and amusing characters: the Baronessa Aspasia and Donna Fulvia, who want Asdrubale for his money and behave like Cinderella's ugly sisters; the Cavalier Giocondo, who is spurned by Clarice and is the Count's friend; Macrobio, a journalist who constantly (but unsuccessfully) tries to impress the others with his unconsciously tortuous prose; Pacuvio, the poet; and Fabrizio, the Count's butler and right-hand man. Zedda makes the point in his excellent booklet essay that many of these are not stock comic buffoons but satirical, carefully-observed creations from everyday life.
Pizzi's production picks up on this rather well by presenting the drama realistically in the 1970s, in a large chic villa on two floors, complete with swimming pool and outdoor furniture. Grassy platforms on either side of the orchestra pit facilitate a tennis match; maids change the sheets on the beds; Fulvia paints a portrait; Asdrubale and Clarice communicate with each other via telephones; characters jump in and out of the swimming pool. It's all tremendous fun. But more than that, just as Rossini was able to flesh out the characters thanks to an outstanding cast in 1812, so too does Pizzi draw enormously emotional performances from several cast members.
In particular, the characters of Clarice and Giocondo are portrayed with a wistful air by Marie-Ange Todorovich and Raúl Giménez. In their acting, one has a sense of the contradiction between the easy existence of the idle rich and the emptiness it affords them. Both singers are in excellent voice; Todorovich copes with both the unusual tessitura and the demands of coloratura while Giménez, although not sounding as youthful and fresh as he once did, still knows how to interpret the text to his advantage. The duet 'Mille vati al suolo io stendo' for Giocondo and Macrobio is sung during the tennis match across the orchestra pit (thankfully the ball is imaginary so there are no casualties!), providing an early highlight. As Macrobio, Pietro Spagnoli is the perfect journalist: his frequent interjections of 'I'll give you a positive mention in my newspaper' are delivered with wit and a self-satisfied swagger. This media-controlling character was a particularly prescient creation of Rossini and librettist Romanelli.
Splendidly bright performances come from Laura Brioli (Aspasia) and particularly Patrizia Biccirè (Fulvia), the latter excelling in her aria 'Pubblico fu l'oltraggio' whilst painting a portrait rather hastily. Heading the cast as Asdrubale, Marco Vinco throws himself into both the musical and dramatic demands of the opera, as does Paolo Bordogna, who is required to perform all kinds of physical feats. Pizzi is right, in the excellent interview bonus feature, to compare the opera to Il viaggio a Reims: it really is a piece requiring an ensemble of star singers, and it really gets them here.
Essential viewing.
See also the review at Musical Pointers.