Puccini: Il Trittico at Dutch National Opera | Live Review

Mark Pullinger
Tuesday, May 7, 2024

Kosky serves up two thirds of a Puccini feast in Amsterdam

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After his gripping Tosca and a Turandot in which the title character never appears, Barrie Kosky brings his Puccini trilogy at Dutch National Opera to a close with Il trittico. Although death unites all three of the triptych, the Australian director very reasonably rejects any sort of unifying thread, likening it instead to a sumptuous three-course dinner. The only constant is Rebecca Ringst’s plain, triangular set – great for projecting voices – not unlike that for Kosky’s Glyndebourne Carmélites but in blonde wood, presenting the stage as a blank canvas for our chef to conjure his magic.

Does it work? Five Michelin stars for Joachim Klein’s lighting. It may seem perverse to present the gloomy, crepuscular Il tabarro so brightly, but shadows and dry ice do wonders to evoke a busy dockside, planks from the central structure helping depict Michele’s barge. Sharp shadows loom ominously, not least in Gianni Schicchi where outlines of Buoso Donati’s grasping relatives tower over our rogue dictating the will.

'Suor Angelica is another slow-burner, but Kosky sets up the convent as a lively place'

There’s plenty to sink your teeth into during the first two operas. Kosky gets under Tabarro’s fingernails – grimy and sweaty. A pull-out cabin adds a sense of claustrophobia, Michele and Giorgetta trapped in their fate, both unable to deal with child loss. Dramatically, it’s gripping, right up to the double murder at the end. Musically, baritone Daniel Luis de Vicente emerged strongest, his dark lower register helping depict the brooding Michele. Leah Hawkins sang an under-strength Giorgetta and Joshua Guerrero’s tenor sounded a size too small for her lover, Luigi, although neither enjoyed much support from Lorenzo Viotti who was happy for the Netherlands Philharmonic to smother voices from the shallow pit.

Giorgetta (Leah Hawkins) and La Frugola (Raehann Bryce-Davis) Photo Credit: Monika Rittershaus | Dutch National Opera

Suor Angelica is another slow-burner, but Kosky sets up the convent as a lively place, the nuns gossipy, busily flitting up and down a (noisy) staircase. It’s another bright setting, the nuns in purple, Angelica’s flowers adding further shots of colour. On opening night, Elena Stikhina sounded soft-grained, her soprano more muted than usual. Her diction was muddied but, a few raw top notes aside, she paced herself well and ‘Senza mamma’ was very well sung. Raehann Bryce-Davis proved a formidable foil as Angelica’s aunt, their confrontation visceral.

Directors deal with the mawkishness at the end of Angelica – where the dying nun sees a vision of her dead child in the closing bars – in different ways. Kosky denies any sugar-coating. His Angelica dies a wretched death, tipping the ashes of her son over herself in an agonising climax, black blood seeping up the walls. Stomach duly punched. Anyone fancy dessert?

'the nuns gossipy, busily flitting up and down a (noisy) staircase' | Photo Credit: Monika Rittershaus | Dutch National Opera

Gianni Schicchi was the one course that doesn’t entirely work (and I love desserts and cite Schicchi as the best operatic comedy bar none). Kosky declares that it’s resolutely not a farce, but treats it like one with too many pratfalls and gross caricatures. Buoso Donati is not yet dead as the curtain rises. Here, we’re at his birthday party and the old man expires on blowing out his candles, falling face first into the cake. Rinuccio finds the will stuffed down Buoso’s underpants.

De Vicente made for a rascally Schicchi, with Inna Demenkova (a sparky Genovieffa in Angelica) his teenage daughter, Lauretta, her ‘O mio babbino caro’ a delicious two-minute pout. Guerrero sounded much better suited to her beloved Rinuccio and minor roles were reasonably well sung (but why remove the text from Tomeu Bibiloni’s Maestro Spinelloccio, reducing him to a nasal whine?).

Kosky’s dessert course may be likened to a soufflé that doesn’t rise – although there is a sour cherry of a punchline in store with the wicked final bite: Buoso is not dead. Now that did make me laugh.

Until 19 May | Tickets available here

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