WFO, 31/10/2024

Mascagni : Le maschere

Wexford Festival Opera Chorus and Orchestra

Francesco Cilluffo

True to their brief of resurrecting the unknown and the forgotten, Wexford Festival Opera this year chose a theme of "Theatre within Theatre" and presented three comedies, of which the first one for me is Le maschere.  It's mid-period Mascagni, composed in 1900 and premiered (simultaneously across six Italian theatres!) in 1901, to a libretto by Luigi Illica.  Unsuccessful at its premiere, partly due to excessive length, Mascagni withdrew it and trimmed it substantially, but, like most of his operas other than Cavalleria rusticana, it never really caught on.  As the title suggests, it's a tribute to the great Italian tradition of the commedia dell'arte, and is therefore a comedy, relatively rare in Mascagni's output, and it's also a tribute to the belcanto era and the operas of Rossini and Bellini.

Therein lies the main problem with the opera - it bops around multiple styles, rarely settling anywhere, and only once truly sounds like Mascagni.  There's some lovely music there, certainly, and the orchestra  has a lush, opulent score in which to indulge, but stylistically it is simply all over the place.  As one might expect, the action is helter-skelter, voluntarily confusing and confused, yet at its base, very familiar.  

Prosperous, fatuous merchant Pantalone wants to marry his daughter Rosaura well and views a certain Captain Spavento (literally, Captain Fear) as a prime candidate, since he too seems wealthy, and has a noble reputation.  Rosaura, has other ideas, being head over heels for Florindo, which is reciprocated, and the lovers are assisted by servants Colombina and Brighella, who also constitute the comic pair of lovers.  Spavento is seconded by a devious Arlecchino, who fancies his chances with Colombina, while the stuttering but good-natured Tartaglia also lends his aid to the principal lovers.  Illica introduces a macguffin, a 'magic powder' (which in this production appears very much like a hefty dose of cocaine) which will render everyone so confused that the signing of the marriage contract will be impossible, which, in turn, will allow Rosaura and Florindo to elope.  In the end, though, Spavento is revealed to be a bankrupt bigamist, so Pantalone gives in and all ends happily for the two pairs of lovers. 

Apart from the powder, there are no surprises.  However, Illica, left to his own devices (that is, without a writing partner) had a tendency to prolixity, and would compose pompous odes to philosophical concepts such as Truth, Beauty and Art which had little place in the proceedings, and for some reason, Mascagni in particular never saw fit to put his foot down and tell Illica to take them out, but would suspend all action to indulge in solemn choral hymns.  There's one such here, which comes out of the blue and is, frankly, a waste of time.  There's a second one at the end, but that one verbalises the tribute to the commedia dell'arte, so it's not out of place.  

Then there's this sense that Mascagni is just producing a melting pot of styles.  At one point, Colombina has a pure belcanto aria, very much in the Bellini style, while the big ensemble at the end of the second act, when everyone is loopy on the magic powder, is heavily modelled on Rossini.  That same scene, though, also features two dance numbers, a "Pavane" and a Tarantella - which ought to have been given to the chorus to dance, but given the staging, couldn't be, and was therefore confided to a handful of dancers doing their best with some rather dubious choreography.  We don't really associate Mascagni with ballet music in opera, and the formal choreography jarred with the popular source of the subject matter.

As I said, only once did we suddenly get to hear Mascagni's own, true voice.  In the last act, as everyone is nursing hangovers, and Rosaura in particular is not making an appearance from her room, Florindo declares there's only one way to wake a woman, and that's to serenade her.  That serenade, with its unstable harmonies and twisted rhythms, that was pure Mascagni, in direct lineage from Turiddu's dawn serenade in Cavalleria, and "Apri la tua finestra" in Iris, and tenor Andrew Morstein gave it his all.  It has to be said that the last act in general held the best of the music overall.

Just as Mascagni intended to place his commedia dell'arte in the perspective of his time, director Stefano Ricci has placed it in our time, making the characters function around a 'wellness centre' (in other words, a spa), where the 'masks' become literal in several senses, and which rang particular bells here, because half the hotels in Wexford seem to have their own spas and leisure suites, as everyone present would know from personal experience.  The chorus lounged around in bathrobes and slippers, Pantalone owned the spa while his Rosaura managed it, Colombina was the head chef, Brighella concocted creams and lotions for the clients while Tartaglia was the general gofer.  The set exuded greenery until the last act, when all the foliage (save the turf carpet) was gradually stripped away to leave the open sky, and the clarity by which Captain Spavento's misdeeds were laid bare for all to see.  Ricci did his best to make Le maschere funny, but Mascagni cannot write comedy the way Rossini did, whose very music makes you smile.  Mascagni (and Illica) do have funny moments, and the cast and director made the most of them, but it's a comedy only in the sense that everyone's a bit ridiculous, and it has a happy end.

Musically, though, it was a strong cast.  Mariano Orozco's Pantalone tended to disappear into the mass a bit, not quite enough resonant bass for the role, and something similar was true of Rory Musgrave's Doctor Graziano.  However, Matteo Mancini was a good, blustering Spavento, lively and sharp especially in his last act duet with Arlecchino, but amusingly succumbing to sentiment when Rosaura turns on the waterworks.  The remaining baritone, Giorgio Caoduro, almost stole the show with his extravagantly stammering Tartaglia, and his last solo, at the end of Act 2, when the 'magic powder' unlocks Tartaglia's tongue, and he has a formidable patter outburst, spectacular in an already immensely complex ensemble, was truly impressive.  

L to R: Ioana Constantin Pipelea (Colombina), Gillen Munguia (Brighella), Lavinia Bini (Rosaura) and Andrew Morstein (Florindo)
Le maschere - Act 2
Wexford Festival Opera.  (© Patricio Cassinoni, 2024)

Of the three tenors required, Andrew Morstein's Florindo wasn't quite as suave as desired overall, but, as mentioned, rose splendidly to the occasion for the Act 3 Serenade, very much his high point.  Benoit Joseph Meier as Arlecchino reflected his character's dry writ in a dry, light tone, deft and expressive, but it was the Brighella of Gillen Munguia whose voice was the fullest and most rounded.  Finally, the two sopranos of Ioana Constantin Pipelea and Lavinia Bini were both nicely contrasted, and nicely matched.  Pipelea's timbre is warmer in the middle of the range, but well focused, while Bini had all the rich creaminess, and the soaring top you would want from the kind of lyric soprano Mascagni regularly calls upon in his operas.  Chorus and orchestra gave smart, clear, committed performances, bringing their usual dedication to forgotten music - even if it has been forgotten for a good reason.

[Next: 1st November]