From that moment on, he composed at least 40 operas. It is quite astonishing to note how many have come down to us: contemporary scholars confirm his authorship of 27 operatic scores. Even more remarkably, his works began circulating around theatres in other Italian cities already in the mid-seventeenth century. All of them are marked by a smooth-flowing narrative, specific cantabilit\u00e0<\/em>, or 'singability\u2019 of passionate recitatives intertwined with emotional arias, and a rare dramatic flair. Major\u2013minor tonality is still crystallising in this music, which contains plenty of dissonances and large intervallic leaps. Yet one also notes the cohesion between the music and the diverse range of characters, which break up the gravity of situations with elements of comedy and grotesque, like in Shakespeare\u2019s plays. Tragic heroes rub shoulders on the stage with types from commedia dell\u2019arte, lofty myths clash with the vox populi, and the woes and ecstasies of lovers with Venetian street opinion.<\/p>\n Pompeo Magno.\u00a0<\/em>Sophie Junker (Giulia) and Valer Sabadus (Servilio). Photo: Clemens Manser<\/p>\n For the festival\u2019s premiere, Max Emanuel Cen\u010di\u0107 chose a late opera by Cavalli \u2013 the heroic drama Pompeo Magno<\/em> (1666), the last part of the so-called \u2018republican\u2019 trilogy, also comprising the operas Scipione affricano <\/em>and Muzio Scevola<\/em>. All three were written after the composer\u2019s return from France, where he spent more than two years, invited to the court of Louis XIV by Cardinal Mazarini. After the fiasco of the imposing five-act tragedy L\u2019Ercole amante<\/em>, written for the inauguration of the Salle des Machines in Paris in 1662, Cavalli solemnly vowed never to write another opera in his life. That vow was short lived. The Venetian premiere of Scipione <\/em>took place in 1664, at the Teatro Santi Giovanni e Paolo, while the other two works were staged in consecutive years at the Teatro di San Salvador. The libretti for the entire trilogy were written by Nicol\u00f2 Minato, an incredibly productive poet who was fascinated by historical subjects. That does not alter the fact that he treated the sources for the biography of Pompey \u2013 especially Plutarch\u2019s Parallel Lives <\/em>\u2013 with a veritably Venetian insouciance. Perhaps the only thing that tallies with the Greek historian\u2019s account is the commander\u2019s triumphant entrance into Rome following the victorious third war against Mithridates. The rest is a tangle of amorous intrigue as implausible as it is passionate, with occasionally sarcastic satire on the political reality of La Serenissima at the time. A satire that is tragic, but as per usual peopled by a host of comical figures, enhanced by Cavalli\u2019s traumatic experiences from Paris, which nevertheless triggered his Italian imagination, with plenty of virtuosic arias, considerably more elaborate than in the works from the beginnings of his Venetian career.<\/p>\n After several excellent premieres in recent years, Cen\u010di\u0107 has finally found the perfect blend. He has directed a show in which he neither encloses the work in a cage of soulless reconstruction nor forces it to meet the expectations of a modern audience. He has produced a staging in the colours of a reality remembered from childhood \u2013 in the renewed spirit of theatre propounded by Jean-Louis Martinoty, who opened our eyes to the mechanism of Baroque opera back in the 70s. It is not entirely true that one of the last operas by Cavalli has only been revived in our times at the Margravial Opera House. At the beginning of the 70s, in a version far-removed from the original, Raymond Leppard presented it at Glyndebourne. In 1975 the BBC broadcast Pompeo Magno <\/em>from London, in a performance conducted by Denis Stevens, with Paul Esswood in the titular role and Nigel Rogers as Mithridates. But it is only with Cen\u010di\u0107 that we receive this masterwork in a form that gives viewers the illusion of travelling back in time to the true sources of the phenomenon of Venetian opera, into a world seen joyfully, though not without a hint of invigorating bitterness.<\/p>\n A huge contribution to this production\u2019s success was also made by Cen\u010di\u0107\u2019s collaborators: Helmut St\u00fcrmer, who created sets referring to the architecture of the Palace of the Doges (openwork windows, a bas relief of a winged lion, a geometrical pattern in rose marble against a backdrop of bright limestone), which were alternately covered and uncovered, as required, to expand or restrict the narrative field; Corina Gramosteanu, who created the wonderful costumes, inspired by the works of Venetian painters, from Bernardo Strozzi through to Giandomenico Tiepolo; the large team responsible for the wigs, masks and make-up; and the lightning director L\u00e9o Petrequin, endowed with a rare imagination, who bathed the whole scene in illumination worthy of the Venetian colourists.<\/p>\n Cen\u010di\u0107 the stage director breathed life into it all. Cen\u010di\u0107 the singer forged, with his warm, velvety countertenor, a deeply human titular hero, now amusing, now ambiguous, now genuinely moving. It is impossible today to identify all the performers of the world premiere of Pompeo <\/em>in 1666; it is not known how many women were in the cast, how many castrati, how many boys or how many men. All told, eight countertenors took part in the shows at Bayreuth, including the phenomenal Nicol\u00f2 Balducci in the part of Sesto, Pompeo\u2019s son: an artist for whom I already predict a marvellous career in heroic roles written with soprano castratos in mind. It is with pleasure that I noted the festival debut of Alois M\u00fchlbacher in the dual role of Amore and Farnace; although he took a while to get going, it was worth the wait for his supple and surprisingly boyish soprano countertenor to reach its full sound. Valer Sabadus in the part of Servilio rather paled in comparison. Kacper Szel\u0105\u017cek \u2013 unrecognisable in the grotesque costume of Arpalia \u2013 displayed not just excellent vocal technique, but also fabulous acting skills. A special mention in this procession of countertenors is due to 70-year-old Dominique Visse, in the role of the lascivious (though not always up to the task) Delfo. This legendary singer formed a hugely comical pair with Marcel Beekman, a Dutch haute-contre <\/em>at least a head taller, who gave a bravura performance as the libidinous old Gypsy Atrea.<\/p>\n Pompeo Magno.\u00a0<\/em>The final scene. Photo: Clemens Manser<\/p>\n It is hard to decide which of the female voices made the biggest impression on me: the fiery soprano Mariana Flores in the part of Issicratea, brimming with emotion and at times frightfully distinctive, or her extreme opposite \u2013 the exquisite, splendidly rounded voice of Sophie Junker, whose only flaw was that she had decidedly too little to sing in the part of Giulia. Valerio Contaldo, blessed with a lyric tenor voice with a beautiful golden timbre, full and sonorous also at the bottom of the range, proved an excellent Mithridates. In the secondary roles, excellent singing was displayed by Victor Sicard (Cesare), Nicholas Stott (Claudio) and Jorge Navarro Colorado (Crasso), as well as the wonderfully attuned quartet of Prencipi (Pierre Lenoir, who also sang Genius, as well as Angelo Kidoniefs, Yannis Flilias and Christos Christodolou). The singers\u2019 displays of prowess were accompanied by scenes phenomenally polished by Cen\u010di\u0107, with the participation of nine actors of short stature, as if plucked straight out of genre frescoes by Tiepolo.<\/p>\n The musical hero of the evening was unquestionably Leonardo Garc\u00eda-Alarc\u00f3n, who directed his Cappella Mediterranea from the harpsichord with an incredible sense of drama, taking care over the occasionally surprising details of harmony and the clarity of the melodic lines. Alarc\u00f3n not only achieved an excellent understanding with the singers, but also elicited from the sparkling score all the possible emotions, expressive contrasts and inexhaustible reserves of humour. It is worth noting that the ensemble played in an exceptionally large line-up for a Venetian opera: besides strings and an extensive continuo group, it also included percussion and wind instruments, including cornetts and trombones, used quite ingeniously in the comical episodes.<\/p>\n It rarely happens that I leave the theatre with a sense of the utmost fulfilment, and that is precisely what occurred that evening, when the final applause died down in the Margravial Opera House. Hence I shall treat the three solo recitals I heard over those few days as charming divertissements<\/em>, highly anticipated encounters with favourites of the festival audience that were rewarded with tumultuous applause. I attended the concert \u2018Teatro dei Sensi\u2019 \u2013 at the Ordenskirche St Georgen, bathed in candlelight \u2013 on the eve of \u00a0the performance of Pompeo Magno <\/em>I saw and heard, but already a few days after the premiere. <\/em>Hence the lack of surprise at the applause given to Mariana Flores, who with Cappella Mediterranea in an eight-strong line-up and under the baton of Garc\u00eda-Alarc\u00f3n presented arias from another dozen or so Cavalli\u2019s operas. I personally was a trifle disappointed; Flores is a typical theatrical animal and feels most at home when interacting with other characters. Here she was lacking context: despite the discreet directing of her performance, she gave the impression of being rather constrained, and her voice sounded at times too harsh, as if lacking sufficient support, which also caused problems with intonation.<\/p>\n Suzanne Jerosme. Photo: Clamens Manser<\/p>\n Suzanne Jerosme came across much better. Blessed with a colourful, sensuous and precisely articulated soprano voice, Jerosme displayed an excellent feel for the prosody. In the recital \u2018Il Generoso Cor\u2019, at the Schlosskirche, together with three musicians from the orchestra Il Gusto Barocco \u2013 the ensemble\u2019s leader and harpsichordist J\u00f6rg Halubek, cellist Johannes Kofler and lutenist Jos\u00edas Rodr\u00edgues G\u00e1ndara \u2013 she presented a programme comprising excerpts from oratorios by Camilla de Rossi and Maria Margherita Grimani, active at the Viennese court around the turn of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The music by these two Italian women was programmed with works by their male contemporaries, especially Alessandro Scarlatti, whose style exerted the strongest influence on their aesthetic sensibilities.<\/p>\n That same day, on the stage of the Margravial Opera House, in sets prepared for the farewell show of Pompeo Magno<\/em>, Swiss-French mezzo-soprano Marina Viotti performed with the accompaniment of the Orchestre de l\u2019Op\u00e9ra Royal de Versailles and violinist Andr\u00e9s Gabetta. That was a true concert of stars, with a striking array of Baroque hits (Purcell, Porta, Vivaldi, Porpora and Locatelli), performed in equally striking fashion, though not always stylishly. But I won\u2019t turn up my nose at it: the audience was delighted, and this year\u2019s festival certainly merited the spectacular closing gala.<\/p>\n I cannot wait for what will come next. In many respects, Max Emanuel Cen\u010di\u0107 reminds one of a Baroque impresario: he has been artistic director of the festival since its inception, directs the productions, in which he also performs, and to cap it all is a first-rate host of the accompanying events. This year, he created Venice for us at Bayreuth. I felt almost like Goethe: I came away with a wonderful, vivid, unique image of that city.<\/p>\n Translated by: John Comber<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" While wandering around Venice, Goethe arrived at a conclusion that surprised even him, namely, that the artist\u2019s eye is formed by the colours of the reality he has experienced since childhood. In Goethe\u2019s opinion, the Venetians perceive everything in brighter colours than the residents of northern Europe, who are consigned to dust and mud, and … [Read more…]<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10,7],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"entry","1":"post","2":"publish","3":"author-mangusta","4":"post-9104","6":"format-standard","7":"category-posts-in-english","8":"category-wedrowki-operowe"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9104","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9104"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9104\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9117,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9104\/revisions\/9117"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9104"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9104"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9104"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/BBOF2025_Pompeo-Magno_B2A3332_Junker-Giulia-Sabadus-Servillio-S-Clemens-Manser-Photography-scaled.jpg\")
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