Foto: Teatro Carlo Felice
Suzanne Daumann
Once upon a time, there
was a princess, beautiful and cold as ice who had invented a stratagem for not
getting married: She defied every suitor to resolve three enigmas, otherwise
he’d lose his head instead of winning her hand. Many princes had already died
for the beautiful Turandot, when an unknown prince arrived, who fell so deeply
in love with her that he managed to resolve the three riddles. The princess, however
would not yield to him. So the prince defied her to resolve in her turn his
riddle and to find out his name until daybreak. Otherwise he would die by his
own hand. Day came and she had not found out his name, but instead of accepting
his life, she finally accepted his love. This is what the first
sources tell us of the story. Puccini and his
librettists have added the character of Liù, a young slave girl who takes care
of the prince’s father. She has always been secretly in love with the prince,
and such is her love that she prefers to affront torture and death rather than
give up his name. She is a typical heroine of Puccini’s, whose female
protagonists almost always come to a tragical end. In Genoa’s Teatro Carlo
Felice de Gênes, this story was told us tonight in a sumptuous staging, true to the libretto and historical, by
Giuliano Montaldo. One set was sufficient for the three acts: two podiums flanked by two sets of stairs, a few
columns, everything in subdued bronze violet colors. A few gongs here and there and the background
was set: we were in a classical and mythical China. With costumes just as
beautiful, defining clearly the role and rank of everyone on stage, the stage
direction was musical and clear: the dynamics of Act I for instance, with a
group of fantastic sword dancers underlining the drama of the scene, in which
the music recreates the collective hysterics of execution days, were
breathtaking. The stage direction was
very singer-friendly: no complicated searching for any deeper truths in the
story that would have required complicated stage movements or particularly
refined acting skills. Trust was with the music and the singers. A pity that
these were not all quite up to the challenge: Rudy Park especially, in the role
of Calaf, was a bit disappointing. Gifted with a big clear voice and perfect
technique, he seemed to be complacent in his vocal power and to lack in
expression sometimes. Norma Fantini as Turandot was haughty and cruel, but her
voice came over as somewhat shrill in the beginning. It was during the final
scene that she was vocally as convincing as acting-wise. The highlight of the
evening was Serena Gamberoni as Liù. With a round and full sweet voice, and
perfect intonation, she totally nailed this young woman who is filled and moved
by true love to much acclaim by the public. A trio of beautiful voices - Ping,
Vincenzo Taormina, Pang, Blagoj Nacoski, Pong, Marcello Nardis - makes the
interventions of these characters, which would have bordered on the boring
otherwise, rather diverting. The orchestra of the Teatro Carlo Felice,
conducted by Alvise Castelli, was splendid, nuanced and full of energy, just
like the theater’s wonderful choirs. An entertaining evening,
all in all, and we left the theatre with a head full of melodies, and some questions
as well: and if the final, this dramatic duel, when Calaf persuades finally
Turandot to love him, were nothing else than a well-disguised apology of rape?
Isn’t his love, that expresses itself mostly by „I want her!“, more something
of a base sexual desire? How many love-stories do we know that might be to
reconsider under this light? But, what IS love? Or is
Puccini the most misogynist of all opera composers?
