(Photo credit: © SF Marco Borrelli)
Is it possible to be merciful towards fascists? In Robert Carsen’s interpretation of Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito, the answer appears to be a resolute “No”—as any leniency might invite betrayal.
Carsen is known for updating opera plots to reflect contemporary political issues, often leading to whimsical yet thought-provoking results. His approach seeks to highlight the relevance of historical political messages to today’s context. However, La Clemenza presents a challenging premise. Composed in the wake of the French Revolution, the notion of “clemency” for those who might have executed King Leopold II’s relatives seems radical—a fitting reflection of the waning days of absolutism.
Carsen reimagines this issue by posing the question: should we extend mercy to the January 6th rioters? He further expands this by casting his Vitellia as a stand-in for Italy’s Giorgia Meloni. This raises the question: can we engage in dialogue with today’s right-wing movements? Carsen suggests such conversations are futile. In a surprising twist, Tito’s clemency prompts Meloni/Vitellia to attempt a successful second coup. As Maya Angelou wisely noted, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” Perhaps, as Cobra Kai’s motto suggests, “No Mercy.”
On the surface, Carsen’s interpretation seems valid. Updating the plot to reflect contemporary issues makes sense. However, there are significant differences between the era of the Ancient Regime and today’s democratic crises. The concept of mercifulness and forgiveness, a major aspect of eighteenth-century politics, contrasts sharply with today’s criminal justice system. Modern views on regret and reform are also vastly different. Today, some figures are deemed irredeemable and deserving of lifelong punishment. But what if we did extend genuine mercy to our oppressors?
Musical Highlights
Gianluca Capuano’s conducting of Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito was marked by sharp, intense sonorities and a pronounced, punctuated style. This was far from the traditionally sublime Mozart; instead, Capuano’s approach was fierce and incisive. While this interpretation underscored the starkness of contemporary politics, it did affect the vocal lines, making them more rigid and less fluid. Despite this, the second act, while less musically engaging than the first, maintained a better pace and the riot scene was effectively driven by Capuano’s vigorous baton.
This performance was clearly a showcase for Cecilia Bartoli. Although she had recorded the role of Sesto earlier in her career, it was surprising that this was her first stage portrayal of the character. Bartoli’s current performances have a distinctive quality. Her charisma and deep connection with the audience are unmatched. Having recorded extensively since Luciano Pavarotti’s heyday, attending a Bartoli performance feels like stepping into a musical experience that spans both the present and the past. Her instantly recognisable voice and unique coloratura are ever-present, making it hard to forget the many albums she has graced.
Bartoli’s portrayal of Sesto, affected by Capuano’s harsh orchestral approach, was both seasoned and contemplative—entwined with Vitellia but also marked by a sense of personal disillusionment. It was intriguing to see this vibrant performer embrace such a dark, introspective role. Her voice, brighter and less rounded, shone particularly in the quieter moments, with a notable articulation of Italian consonants. Her rendition of “Parto,” a highlight of the evening, truly flourished when Capuano allowed Bartoli to control the tempo, especially during her poignant solo, almost prayer-like, as she awaited the basset clarinet’s entrance.
Daniel Behle also emerged as a standout with his portrayal of Tito. While it is often said that Tito is not the central figure of his own opera, Behle convincingly embodied the compassionate democratic leader. His performance depicted Tito’s quest for justice and his attentiveness to the complexities of power. In his first aria, “Del più sublime soglio,” Behle’s delivery was marked by a serene yet poignant distinction, capturing Tito’s contemplative nature. This was further exemplified in his second aria, “Se all’impero,” where Behle conveyed a deep sense of the burdens and risks faced by Tito, embodying the leader under constant threat.
More Cast Highlights
The portrayal of Giorgia Meloni/Vitellia by Alexandra Marcellier brought an intriguing dimension to the role. Marcellier’s interpretation combined a provocative, almost cocaine-like allure with a sense of potential redemption, particularly highlighted through the basset horn solo. Her performance was marked by a sharp, explosive upper register and a phrasing full of edge, which proved effective despite its aggressive nature. Her aria, “non più di fiori,” offered a compelling, albeit somewhat disjointed, contrast to Sesto’s “Parto,” ultimately presenting a disingenuous yet impactful depiction of redemption within the opera’s plot.
Anna Tetruashvili’s portrayal of Annio was notable for its congeniality. Carsen’s decision to cast Annio as a woman added an interesting layer to the narrative, with Annio’s affection for Servilia resembling a subtle “coming out” moment, and Tito’s reaction reflecting acceptance. While this “coming out” was not overt, Tetruashvili’s sincere performance was evident. Her voice, though slightly more vibrant than usual, harmonised well with Capuano’s brisk orchestral style.
Melissa Petit as Servilia, along with Tetruashvili, exhibited a bit more vibrato, likely influenced by the orchestral demands and their efforts to convey a more assertive presence.
Ildebrando D’Arcangelo’s casting as Publio was a stroke of luxury. His immense vocal talent and charisma were apparent, even in the relatively brief “tardi s’avvede” aria. His voice, solid and rich, carried a distinctive Mozartian quality that is rare to find.
Ultimately, La Clemenza di Tito presents a provocative challenge: the notion of showing mercy to those who have wronged us feels almost implausible. Despite this, the opera may not be considered Mozart’s most stirring work. Yet, in its core moments—particularly the arias featuring wind instrument solos—there is a sense of belief in the possibility of transformation through regret, hinting at an idealistic vision of the future.
Leave a comment