Paul Steinberg / Recenze

Humour, drama, madness, eroticism, absurdities and the belief in the magical powers of a stone that can make people invisible - all this is in Domenico Cimarosa's sparkling intermezzo L'italiana in Londra . Even the premiere audience in 1778 in the historic Roman Teatro Valle enthusiastically followed the developments and complications between the international guests who met there in Madama Brillante's London hotel. A place like an alternative world to real life, in the center a pair of lovers: Livia, a daughter from a good Genoese family, and Milord Arespingh, who was ordered back from Jamaica by his father to marry an English lady. In a close connection with the text, the music not only reflects the individual characters, but also the social structure of the characters. In addition to paused arias and finely worked out duets, the work is characterized above all by extensive, action-packed ensembles. With this revaluation of the ensemble as a musical form, Cimarosa, who preceded L'italiana in Londracelebrated mainly in Rome and Milan, attracted international attention. Goethe praised the "highest aesthetic splendor" of his music and translated two of his libretti, while Haydn conducted 13 Cimarosa operas at the Esterházys' princely court in seven years. Finally, Rossini's triumphal procession dampened the success of his fellow composer.

In London, Fleming’s colleagues were less consistently good than Fleming herself. Reiffenstuel’s dresses for Alice Coote’s Octavian and Mariandel were not the most becoming the mezzo-soprano has worn on this stage, where she has thus far specialized in male characters. Coote’s singing was often ungainly, frequently with a discomfiting rawness to the tone. The finest exponent of the three main women’s parts was Sophie Bevan, who sang the ingenue role of her namesake to perfection, with a top register to die for.Steinberg’s family-sized sets looked too big on the Covent Garden stage; the Princess’s bedroom and its mammoth collection of dynastic paintings dwarfed the characters. A troublesome feature of Act II was a collection of enormous field guns and an obsession with rifles: in his desire to underline the militarism of his redesignated period, Carsen decided, without any specifics in Hofmannsthal’s text to back it up, that the army supplies that provide the basis of Faninal’s fortune were, in fact, armaments. Act III swapped the original’s dubious suburban inn for a palatial, populous brothel, where Ochs’s assignation with Mariandel almost got lost in the wider sweep of hedonistic goings-on. Overall, Carsen’s direction lacked the detail and focus that can make Der Rosenkavalier profoundly moving. Supplying some, at least, of the missing magic was the conducting of Andris Nelsons, whose enthusiasm for Strauss has already resulted in persuasive Covent Garden performances of Salome and Elektra. Once again his ability to balance super-enriched textures and provide dramatic momentum in a score that needs to be kept on the move paid rich dividends. The Orchestra of the Royal Opera House responded keenly to his confident direction.