For reasons that are unclear – possibly a libretto laden with innuendo, or a subplot about desertion from the army, in an opera composed near the end of the Napoleonic Wars – Rossini’s third opera, and first full-length comedy, L’equivoco stravagante (1811) was pulled by the censors. Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier’s production (revived from 2019) certainly plays with its lewdness, at the same time as casting it in the ostensibly genteel period of its composition, so that it has an essentially Regency-era look. As a comedy of manners (lampooning the pretentions of the nouveau riche Gamberotto’s plans for his daughter Ernestina’s education and her marriage prospects) it’s like a bawdier version of a Jane Austen novel, though also in keeping with the conventions of Italian opera buffa.
The farcical subterfuge, or bizarre misunderstanding of the title, which the ribald servants Frontino and Rosalia concoct, is to put Buralicchio off Ernestina, so that she may take up with her beloved Ermanno instead. They pretend that she is secretly a castrato, dressed up as a young woman so that she can avoid military service. That makes sense being set in this period as castrati were a phenomenon still occasionally encountered at that time (Rossini would write the odd role for one). But otherwise, this is no slavish period piece or costume drama, as the absurd nature of the comedy is manifested on stage within the zigzag arrangement of the drawing room in which most of the action takes place.
The peculiarities take their cue from references in the dialogue itself, not from the directors’ own fanciful imaginations. A view of cows within Alpine scenery through one of the walls recalls Gamberotto’s background as a farmer, through which he became rich (though not socially refined); Ernestina’s gauche, unwanted suitor Buralicchio is padded out at the chest and backside to look like a preening cockerel; and all the characters wear comically enlarged noses, in reference to those poking their noses into others’ business, and perhaps also to imply a pinocchio-like untruthfulness – they are taken off during the final chorus when all dissembling is resolved. There is also perhaps a hint of the servants’ inclination to rebellion when the ensemble assist the bookish Ernestina with her complaint of boredom by consulting little red books, surely an (anachronistic) reference to Chairman Mao’s blueprint for the Cultural Revolution.
Politics don’t otherwise protrude in an ebullient staging and performance, though the enjoyably robust reading of the score from Michele Spotti and the Filarmonica Gioachino Rossini makes it far more than flimsy, light-weight froth. Maria Barakova initially demonstrates charm and reserve as a somewhat unworldly Ernestina, but develops more passion and intensity as the music picks up pace in Act Two. Similarly, Pietro Adaíni is a simple, but sincere Ermanno who comes to express himself with more lyrical warmth as he comes closer to attaining his desire.
Nicola Alaimo amuses, and makes quite an impact with, his bluster and comic fury as Gamberotto who knows what he wants for himself and his daughter despite his limited worldview, while Carles Pachon also huffs and puffs his frustrated way through the opera with something of a Gilbert-and-Sullivan buffoonery that keeps proceedings from becoming too earnest. Matteo Macchioni is a characterful Frontino, sometimes almost half-spoken in his deadpan way, and Patricia Calvache embodies a meaningful simplicity in her singing as the female servant, Rosalia, who has one delightful and airily scored aria that could be compared with one for Mozart’s Despina. Indeed, it’s Mozart’s irrepressible liveliness which is never far away from this opera, and earthy wit in this production which doesn’t descend into the crude or crass.
The post Rossini Opera Festival 2024 – L’equivoco stravagante – with Maria Barakova, Pietro Adaíni and Nicola Alaimo; directed by Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier; conducted by Michele Spotti appeared first on The Classical Source.
