Salieri’s version of Falstaff, to a libretto by Carlo Prospero Gianfranceschi, has as subtitle Le tre burli, “the three jokes”: with Falstaff fooled three times over, it is closer than Verdi’s to Shakespeare’s Merry Wives, although it dispenses altogether with Fenton and Anne (or Nannetta), and includes both the Pages – here called Master and Mistress Slender. It was first given, in Vienna, in 1799, with moderate success. From what I have heard of Salieri’s operas, I am inclined to think that the rather grand and severe manner of serious opera (especially his post-Gluckian works for Paris) may have suited his temperament better than comedy. This is a lightish opera buffa, which no doubt could work very amusingly on the stage, with the dialogue done briskly and a stylish production; the orchestration is generally sparing, most of the numbers are quite brief and the structure is informal and flexible. There are a lot of ensembles, some of them entertainingly handled, including extended finales to each act, and angry arias – one for Mistress Slender, offended by Falstaff’s importunity, a couple for the suspicious Ford – which have an element of opera seria parody. There is a perky duet, “La stessa, la stessissima”, made famous, or slightly famous, through being varied for piano by Beethoven. The description of Falstaff’s immersion, by the maid Betty, is enlivened by watery gurgles in the orchestra. The duet where Falstaff intrudes upon Mistress Ford’s song is quite charming. There are some quite original things, for example the mournful little recitative, accompanied by lower-pitched instruments, for Bardolf near the beginning of Act 1, or the quartet for the Fords and the Slenders (initially analogous to Verdi’s double scene for the men and the women, but with Ford disagreeably jealous). It makes pleasant and undemanding listening; but of course Mozart has spoilt all this for us and made us look for perceptions on a higher plane. Here, these are rare; you will seek in vain the kinds of sharp reflection or illumination in the music of what the characters are saying or thinking that we take for granted in Mozart. But there is still plenty to enjoy and Salieri does not fail to convey something of the fun of the situations.
The cast is largely Italian and the performance is idiomatic without, perhaps, quite achieving the ideal vitality and sense of pace. Romano Franceschetto makes a spirited Falstaff, able to vary his timbre suitably to represent the amorous, the swaggering, the sodden and the frightened. He does well in the aria in the manner of Mozart’s Bartolo near the end of Act 1. The main buffa role is Mistress Ford, who plans the various pranks; it is done here in lively if rather pert fashion by Lee Myeounghee. Chiara Chialli – to quote Salieri’s own requirement for the role – is “clear and energetic” in Mistress Slender’s music and the warm bass of Fernando Luis Ciuffo serves well for her husband, notably in his charming echo aria, in an unusual rhythm, near the end of Act 2 (Salieri added the echo effects in rehearsal). As Ford, the tenor Giuliano de Filippo provides some attractive lyrical singing, and he can fulminate effectively too in his accompanied recitatives. The two servants are very adequately sung. I don’t know whether there are cuts or transpositions in the text used here, but there are a lot of strange and uncomfortable key junctures of a kind usually avoided in eighteenth-century opera. The booklet has an informative essay on the work (though it doesn’t actually mention its date) and also interestingly reproduces Salieri’s own thoughts on the music; it is thought-provoking to see how a composer of the time viewed his work.'