Handel - FErnando, re di castiglia

The Times

April 2022

★★★★

Not the Abba song, surely? No, this was Handel’s opera, fully titled Fernando, re di Castiglia. And if that name doesn’t click, it’s because the composer abandoned composition near the end of Act II, revised the libretto to soothe political sensitivities, then lengthened it into a three-act opera, Sosarme, not so familiar itself. There wouldn’t be much here for big opera houses, but byways are the London Handel Festival’s meat and drink, and the publicity for this spirited performance by Opera Settecento, based on a newly expanded scholarly edition, bore the rare tagline “A Handel premiere”.

Entry into the plot’s cat’s cradle wasn’t easy at first, not helped by the type size of the printed libretto, closely resembling the bottom of an optician’s test chart. But Handel’s melodic flair and dramatic instincts soon pulled us into the plight of these kings, wives, sons and daughters from 14th-century Portugal and Spain, tormented by rivalry, armed rebellion and thwarted desire. Running alongside was the panache of almost all the vocalists and the delightful lithe bounce of the Settecento orchestra, vividly conducted by Leo Duarte and topped off by two piquant natural horns, thrillingly played by Pierre-Antoine Tremblay and Christopher Price.

Recitatives, as usual, took up acres of space on the page, but it was the arias, many of great beauty, that gave Duarte’s singers their big chance to shine. Just when you’d pigeonholed Ciara Hendrick’s mezzo as rather small-bore, out came her top register, warm and ample, letting us share every heartache felt by Isabella, the Portuguese queen. A speedier emotional connection arrived with the creamy-toned counter-tenor Meili Li (the King of Castile), blessed with his own ringing top, and heard at his most beguiling duetting with Susanna Fairbairn, Portugal’s royal daughter, in the opera’s best charmer, Per le porte del tormento.

Attractive notes emerged from Frederick Long, Nick Scott and Jess Dandy; the exception, alas, was the alto Charlie Morris, muddy in sound as the rebellious Alfonso. All was forgiven, though, long before the evening’s appendix, the grand final chorus from Sosarme. Handel Rocks!

The telegraph

April 2022

Opera Settecento's revival of an unfinished work was brilliantly sung, but Handel abandoned it for a reason

The rediscovery of Handel’s operas, neglected for so long after his death, has been one of the great musical developments of our time. The realisation of the composer’s dramatic genius was slow to dawn, but is now unarguable. Today, every self-respecting opera company has Handel in their repertory, and audiences flock to stagings that are ever more adventurous (or outrageous, depending on your point of view).

At the enterprising London Handel Festival, the company Opera Settecento pushed that quest for novelty to its limits by reviving the torso of an opera that Handel began but never finished in this form. He started to set Fernando, Re di Castiglia as a story of dynastic conflict in 14th-century Portugal, brokered by the fair-minded Spanish King of Castile. But, possibly fearing this was a little too close to home just after the Anglo-Spanish war of the 1720s, he suddenly changed tack mid-composition, renamed the characters and transferred the setting back to antiquity in the Middle East.

This produced the fine 1732 opera Sosarme. So, the question is: why would anyone want to excavate the origins of this work except as a scholarly exercise?

Leo Duarte’s buoyant and bustling direction certainly made a case for the earlier piece. But it did not prove to me that anything is gained by revisiting Fernando, except acres of recitative that Handel later wisely trimmed.

This does add some detail and conviction to the plot, but as Handel reached only near the end of act two in the three-act drama before changing the story, it remains incoherent.

Typically, Dionisio (the incisive Nick Scott) has a recitative of more than 30 lines in this version, as a prelude to his splendid aria La turba adulatrice, which Handel later condensed to a single page. There is some marvellous music in the arias, familiar from what those pieces became in Sosarme. One of the best, the extraordinarily wide-ranging Fra l’ombre e gli orori (magnificently sung by Frederick Long), was imported from an early Italian oratorio, and we lose Sosarme’s final act-one aria in this version.

One had to admire the stylish and committed singing of an excellent cast: Ciara Hendrick as a bright and agile Isabella, who in this version acquires the fierce closing aria of the fragment; the outstandingly warm counter-tenor Meili Li as Fernando, especially in an exquisite duet with Susanna Fairbairn’s Elvida.

The sprightly string group were also tireless in projecting the music, though one might have wished for a little more let-up and contrast in the middle sections of the arias. For me, the most poignant moments of the evening came from the remarkable alto Jess Dandy as Sancio, who produced an amazingly moving single note in the middle of a cadenza, a still centre among all the bustle.

A fascinating rarity, then. But this is not an incomplete masterpiece (like those of Mozart and Bach) because Handel did write exactly what he wanted by completing Sosarme. So yes, worth hearing when so well performed, but definitely not a new addition to the Handel operatic canon.

By Nicholas Kenyon

the i

April 2022

★★★★

Handel abandoned this opera and reworked it into Sosarme. Its first staging proves the plot is fiendishly complex, but when the music’s this good it doesn’t really matter

Fernando, re di Castiglia had its premiere at the London Handel Festival (Photo: Chris Christodoulou)

“Do you understand what’s going on?” My neighbour enquired anxiously at the interval. Not a clue, we all reassured him. Even by Handel’s standards, Fernando, re di Castiglia is confusing – requiring a family tree, a map and a list of dramatis personae, Russian-novel style, before anything in this dynastic drama becomes clear. 

We’re in a warring Portugal (don’t let the title fool you), and everyone is related to everyone else, and everyone seems to want to be king. Except the man who everyone else wants to be king, who is dead against the idea. Got it?

You won’t find Fernando in traditional lists of Handel’s work. The composer abandoned the opera after two acts, reworking his material into a totally different piece. But now a new edition of this bleeding torso of a work (the action cuts out abruptly at the end of Act II, loyalties still in question, resolution far from certain) means a chance to hear a modern Handel premiere – not something that comes around every day.

And, as ever with Handel, when the music’s this good, the plot really doesn’t matter. Leo Duarte – a explosive tangle of musical energy, spending more time with both feet off the ground than on it – conducted his period band Opera Settecento with infinitely stylish generosity. Sweeping aside any confusions in a wave of dance rhythms and endless, circling melodies, a pair of deliciously wayward natural horns roughing things up just enough.

And what a cast. Name a young British singer headed for big things, and you’ll find them here. There is Susanna Fairbairn’s sumptuous Princess Elvida, all dramatic ice and vocal fire, turning an ingenue into a queen, finding her match in the unshowy, emotionally-grounding warmth of Ciara Hendrick’s matriarch Isabella. And there is Nick Scott’s poised King Dionisio and Meili Li’s sweet-toned lover Fernando.

Outstanding contralto Jess Dandy just gets better and better, bringing real gravitas and moral authority to the priggish “good son” Sancio, holding her ground against both Charlie Morris’s snivelling rival Alfonso and the skilful comic by-play of Frederick Long’s Altomaro, whose ravishing “Fra l’ombre” turned scheming to pathos in a moment.

By Alexandra Coghlan

Opera today

April 2022

This London Handel Festival performance at St George’s Hanover Square was billed as ‘Fernando, re di Castiglia: A Handel Premiere’.  Well, not quite, one might say: the first staged revival in the UK was by Unicorn Opera, at Abingdon in September 1970.  But, as Opera Settecento’s Artistic Director, Leo Duarte, points out, Michael Pacholke’s new edition for Bärenreiter presents all of Handel’s original intentions for the opera, restoring excised recitative and eliminating later revisions to some of the arias, so it was indeed a premiere of sorts.

Fernando wasn’t actually performed in Handel’s lifetime.  Essentially, it’s the discarded draft of the opera that was presented at the King’s Theatre on 15th February 1732 as Sosarme, re di Media.  Midway through the compositional process, when Handel had already set the text up to the twelfth scene of the second act of a libretto anonymously adapted from Antonio Salvi’s Dionisio re di Portogallo, he decided to transfer the action from 13th-century Portugal to the ancient kingdom of Lydia in Persia, changing the names of all the characters, cutting some of the recitative (mainly from the first Act) and restructuring some of the arias. 

Speculations as to the causes of the change of plan are numerous.  The other opera presented in the 1732 season, Ezio, had been a disastrous flop, so there was a hole in the schedule to be quickly filled and, given that it was Ezio’s lengthy recitatives that had displeased London audiences, Handel was probably keen to avoid a repeat failure.  Moreover, there were changes of personnel in his company that may have necessitated some re-portioning of the vocal load bearing.  Then, Fernando’s libretto presents a dynastic struggle between a Portuguese King and his rebellious son which is remedied by a royal Castilian intermediary – not very tactful subject matter when the Anglo-Spanish War, during which Gibraltar had been besieged, had ended only three years previously and the Portuguese were England’s long-standing ally.  There were potential tensions closer to home, too: with King George II at loggerheads with Crown Prince Frederick Louis, the Prince of Wales, a dramatic account of a rift between a royal patriarch and his son might have been a bit too near the mark – better to set the action somewhere neutral, and geographically and temporarily distant.

Whatever the impetus, Handel’s instinct proved correct and when Sosarme was presented, with Senesino in the title role, it was a great success and ran for eleven performances.  And, no wonder: beautiful arias tumble after one another and there are two exquisite duets.  At St George’s, Handel’s music shone and charmed.  Leo Duarte didn’t so much as conduct the score but danced it.  He would be a terrific choral conductor.  Sometimes his gestures seemed a little flamboyant given the small forces at his disposal, but he garnered stylish, engaging playing from his musicians, who really did play as an ‘ensemble’ and were clearly all having a terrific time.  The body of instrumentalists was small and sometimes a fuller string sound would have been welcome, but the tone was sweet and warm, and there was both elegance and spirit, as the music required.  The continuo, always tastefully expressive, comprised just David Gerrard’s harpsichord and Jonathan Rees’s cello; perhaps a theorbo might have added richness and drama to the recitatives, though the singers were uniformly accomplished in this regard.  The da capo arias were colourfully ornamented (sometimes a little too lavishly?), though trills were notable by their absence, and the soloists sang the short choral parts, as they would have done in Handel’s day.

Whether it mattered if we were in medieval Portugal or ancient Persia is moot, given that the action of Fernando and Sosarme is identical, though in the former the drama is prematurely curtailed.  In any case, I doubt, in the darkness of St George’s, there were many in the audience who could follow the translation printed in the programme in 0.001 size font (and did we really need Italian, English and German versions?).  But, the cast did a fine job of conveying character and conflicts, and the general gist was clear as the treachery and turmoil unfolded.

Jess Dandy (Sancio) (c) Chris Christodoulou

Fernando is, as so often with opera seria, a Freudian soap opera.  There is a tangle of dynastic, political and romantic intrigue, and much capriciousness, anger and torment.  Dionisio, King of Portugal has besieged the city of Coimbra which is held by rebels led by his eldest son, Alfonso.  The latter has been made jealous of Dionisio’s illegitimate son, Sancio, by the manoeuvrings of the dastardly counsellor, Altomaro, who is seeking to put Sancio on the throne, regardless of the latter’s disinterest.  Dionisio’s wife Isabella and daughter Elvida – who is betrothed to Fernando, King of Castile – are held in the Royal Palace in Coimbra.  When Alfonso and Dionisio meet in single combat Fernando plays peacemaker and all is resolved. 

Dramatically the characters are one-dimensional but, as ever, Handel’s music brings them to life.  In Handel’s first cast there were two castrato roles; here they were shared between a countertenor and a female alto.  As Alfonso, Charlie Morris sang with intensity and focus, making clear the force of Alfonso’s hostility to his father, and the exchanges between son and mother at the end of Act 1, when Isabella tries to prevent Alfonso from challenging his father in combat, were fiercely committed.  The programme (which omitted to identify the two oboists in the ensemble) credited Owen Willetts in the title role, but it was in fact performed by Chinese countertenor Meili Li.  Li moved freely and easily across the registral shifts in ‘Il mio valore’, and confidently essayed some extravagant elaboration at the close of the B section, demonstrating fine tone and strength at the top.  He was accompanied by some excellent horn playing (Pierre-Antoine Tremblay, Christopher Price) in ‘Alle sfere’, and displayed agility and evenness through the tricky passagework.

Meili Li (Fernando) and Susanna Fairbairn (Elvida) (c) Chris Christodoulou

The two duets for Fernando and Elvida were highlights.  ‘Per le porte del tormento’ lilted beguilingly.  It’s a long sing but both Li and soprano Susanna Fairbairn had the stamina to sustain a firm line, and their voices intertwined melting in the winding phrases of the close.  Fairbairn conveyed Elvida’s tenderness and innocence from the first, urging her mother to wipe away her tears in a serene ‘Rendi ’I sereno al ciglio’.  The passagework in ‘Vola l’augello’ was clean and accurate, and her tone throughout was velvety and rich.

The conflicting loyalties of Ciara Hendrick’s Isabella were palpable.  Hendrick made one feel every ounce of the Queen’s dilemmas and determination in a superb vocal portrait of maternal anguish.  ‘Due parti del core’ was beautifully expressive and accompanied by some lovely string conversations, led by Julia Kuhn, while the floridity of ‘Forte inciampo al suo furore’, in which Isabella rages against Alfonso’s filial disloyalty, was delivered with power and punch, while always controlled and finely phrased.  Sancio is really a bit of a wimp, but Jess Dandy imbued the role with a melancholy dignity.  ‘Si, si, minaccia’ was notable for its strong line and convincing feeling, Dandy’s wide range serving to substantiate the rather flimsy characterisation. 

Nick Scott (Dionisio) (c) Chris Christodoulou

The role of Dionisio was written for the tenor Giovanni Battista Pinacchi and it’s a challenging part.  Nick Scott used his lovely vocal tone and easy lyricism to communicate a wide emotional palette in ‘Se discordia ne disciolse’, and the revenge aria ‘La turba adulatrice’ surged strongly forwards through the running lines.  Scott was also particularly impressive in the recitatives which were vividly dramatic.  Fred Long relished playing the baddie, even evincing a ghastly chuckle of evil glee mid-aria at one point.  Altomaro’s three arias (which were written for the bass Antonio Montagnana) are surprisingly ear-pleasing, given the villainy of their executor, but Long used his appealing bass effectively to capture the Machiavellian councillor’s craftiness and had no trouble encompassing the expansive registral scope.

Some of Handel’s concertos were written for performance in the intervals of theatrical events.  For example, the HWV 289-294 Organ Concertos were composed to fill the intervals at performances of Handel’s oratorios at Covent Garden in the 1735-36 season, and the Op.6 Concerto Grossi of 1739 were similarly designed for performances of masques and oratorios during the 1739-40 season at the Lincoln’s Inn Fields Theatre.  We know, too, that concertos often entertained audiences during the intervals of spoken dramas in the capital’s theatres.  I couldn’t find any evidence that Handel’s own operas had features such interval-pleasures, but Leo Duarte – in his more customary musical role as an oboist – revived the general practice by performing Handel’s Oboe Concerto No.3 in G minor (HWV 287) at the start of the second part of the performance – thereby partially ‘correcting’ the imbalance between Fernando’s long opening act and the incomplete remaining part, and demonstrating the engaging range of his musicianship.

And, we weren’t denied a chance to hear Fernando‘s supplanter, either. With the action of Fernando left dangling in Act 2, Duarte and his singers brought the evening to a consoling close with the final chorus from Sosarme, ‘Dopo l’ire sì funeste’.

Claire Seymour

Arias for Ballino

Planet Hugill

October 2021

★★★★★

Thrilling virtuosity and engaging personality in Arias for Ballino, tenor Jorge Navarro Colorado's exploration of rare 18th-century repertoire with Opera Settecento at London Handel Festival.

Annibale Pio Fabri, known as 'Ballino', is not the best-known name amongst the singers who worked for Handel, yet on hearing him for the first time in 1729, Mrs Pendarves wrote described his voice as "sweet, clear and firm ... he sings like a gentleman, without making faces, and his manner is particularly agreeable; he is the greatest master of musick that ever sang upon the stage". For his two seasons in London, Handel both wrote him new roles and adapted existing ones, but Fabri also worked with a wide variety of European composers. There was a chance to explore Fabri and the music written for him in Arias for Ballino, Opera Settecento and Leo Duarte's concert at the London Handel Festival at St George's Hannover Square on Friday 15 October. They were joined by tenor Jorge Navarro Colorado for arias from Handel's Scipione and Partenope, Mancini's Trajano, Vivaldi's L'Incoronazione di Dario, Corselli's Farnace, Caldara's Adriano in Siria, and Alessandro Scarlatti's Marco Attilio Regolo, plus instrumental music by Handel, Vivaldi and Francesco Scarlatti.

Some 80 minutes of rare Baroque arias might sound somewhat forbidding (three of the arias, including those from Handel's Scipione, were first performances in modern times) but with performances so wonderfully engaged and engaging we were entranced. This seems to be very much a passion project for tenor Jorge Navarro Colorado, he described in the programme how singing his first two complete Handel operas (Lotario in Göttingen, and Partenope in Iford) he discovered that both roles fitted him well and that both were written for Fabri, which impelled him to go in search of other arias written for the tenor. And what music it was, clearly Fabri was rather keen on insanely long passages of very fast notes, and even the more lyrical arias were quite busy (in the manner of Johann Adolph Hasse). By the end of the evening, we had a clear idea of Fabri's tenorial style, but this was far more than an academic exercise. 

Singing from memory (that is 12 arias in total) Navarro Colorado succeeded in making this music count dramatically. No matter the technical complexities, he never lost sight of the drama and for each aria conjured a sense of character and pace. Words were terrific, spat out where necessary and always present. Born in Spain and trained in the UK, Navarro Colorado is clearly not just happy in Italian but can use the language expressively in this complex music. Tall and distinguished-looking, he cut a striking figure and was adept at using his face to complement the expressivity of his singing. His voice has a fine, strong middle which seems very necessary in this music (Fabri's range was from B to a') where a lot of the busier passages sat, but Navarro Colorado also had a lovely free top. We were able to be dazzled by his singing, be amazed by the crazy music but never did we have to worry about whether he would make it. All was free and easy

These were vivid performances, wonderfully supported by Leo Duarte and the orchestra of Opera Settecento. Duarte directed from the oboe; his body language often wonderfully expressive in its own right. 

Fabri only sang for two seasons for Handel, but he received several new roles including Berengario in Lotario, Emilio in Partenope and Alessandro in Poro as well as Handel re-writing Scipione for him and getting him to sing other tenor roles, including the tenor version of Sesto in Giulio Cesare and Tiridate in Radamisto. We began the evening with Scipione, the Sinfonia from Act II, plus two arias from the 1730 revision of Scipione (which had premiered in 1726) when Handel rewrote the title role (which had originally been for alto castrato) for Fabri. The two arias had never been performed in modern times so clearly this version of Scipione needs a proper looking at in the theatre. The first aria was cavatina, strong and slow with just continuo whilst the second (the first of many Da Capo arias in the evening) featured fast vivid passagework which was seemingly never-ending, and in the Da Capo, Navarro Colorado went even further and filled in some of the gaps. But it was never a mere sport, this was vividly dramatic stuff.

Next came a pair of arias from Trajano by Neapolitan composer Francesco Mancini (1672-1773), which premiered in Naples in 1722. Both felt somewhat old-fashioned, certainly not the more modern style of composers like Vinci, but full of contrapuntal interest in the orchestra complementing a tenor part which moved from the lyrical to the busily fast. 

Fabri had a long relationship with Antonio Vivaldi, performing some of the composer's operas in Venice early in his career. So, it made sense for Leo Duarte to include Vivaldi's Oboe Concerto in D minor. In three movements, fast, slow, fast, the outer movements featured lots of engagingly rhythmic interest in solo and accompaniment, full of energy and very toe-tapping, with a calmer slow movement still featuring an elaborate solo part. And throughout, Duarte played engagingly and seemingly with an endless supply of breath.

We heard two arias from Vivaldi's L'Incoronazione di Dario (which premiered in Venice in 1716), both quite lively with busy orchestral textures and in the second a fast-moving bass line which often doubled the voice to striking effect. This latter was a furious aria 'With the fury in my breast, I will pierce the proud hearts of my rivals' and Navarro Colorado really spat the words out in vivid fashion. In between, we heard from Francesco Corselli (1705-1778), an Italian born of French parents who ended up working in Madrid! His Farnacepremiered in Madrid in 1739 and judging by the aria we heard, the work is worth investigating, with interestingly complex writing for the orchestra complementing the voice nicely.

Francesco Scarlatti (1666-c1741) is certainly not a well-known name, younger brother of the better-known Alessandro (and thus uncle to Domenico), Francesco came to London around 1719. Not that much music survives, but in 2002 a group of 12 sonatas by him were found written in one of the work-books of Newcastle composer Charles Avison (1709-1770). We heard one of these, more akin to a concerto grosso than a sonata and full of the sort of contrapuntal interest that might have been a touch old-fashioned but was clearly beloved of the English (Avison, the transcriber, had studied with Geminiani in London). The final slow movement has strong echoes of Vivaldi's Four Seasons (notably Spring).

The operas of Antonio Caldara (1670-1736), an Italian working in Vienna, are still not as well-known as they deserve to be. This is partly due to Caldara working for the Imperial family, after his operas premiered the music tended to disappear into the Imperial Archives (where the scores remain) rather than being widely disseminated to his contemporaries. Adriano in Siria premiered in 1732 in Vienna and we heard two arias from it. Both simile arias, first vivid and strong, the second vigorous with a nice spring to the rhythm and both full of imaginative orchestration complementing the crazy writing for the tenor. In between, we heard from Francesco Scarlatti's elder brother Alessandro Scarlatti (1660-1725), his Marco Attilio Regolo which premiered in 1719. Here the protagonist was love-lorn but still managed to fit in some busy passages alongside the lyricism.

We finished with a pair of arias from Handel's Partenope which premiered during Fabri's first season in London. His role, Emilio, is not one of the major protagonists and quite late in the creation of the opera, Handel decided to transfer the aria 'Qual farfaletto giro a quel lume' from his character to the title role, and this is how we know it, but we heard it in the version Handel must have first conjured, with Fabri's voice in his ear. There was a nice lilt to the rhythm, with Navarro Colorado bringing a lovely ease to the busy passages and projecting an engaging personality. Then we ended with what Leo Duarte introduced as Jorge Navarro Colorado's favourite aria, Emilio's 'Barbaro fato' from Partenope, another one full of insane passagework complemented by dramatic orchestration, and all performed with wonderful character and personality.

There was an encore. Whilst in London, Fabri also sang in two pasticcios and Venceslao includes an anonymous aria which just might be by the singer himself (who was a composer). Certainly, its style fitted with the arias we had already heard and it ended this wonderfully engaging concert in a vividly crazy fashion.

AMINTA E FILLIDE
BY GEORG FRIEDRICH HANDEL
Rome 1707-1708

opeRa

February 2020

Composed for the Rome-based Arcadian Academy in 1708, at the behest of its host, the Marchese Francesco Ruspoli—who also provided the text—Handel’s cantata Aminta e Fillide (or ‘Arresta il passo’) is a substantial piece, scored for two sopranos, strings and continuo and heading towards an hour in length; individual numbers would subsequently be redeployed in Agrippina and Rinaldo.  For this performance founded on the seven-strong instrumental forces of Opera Settecento the ensemble’s artistic director Leo Duarte added in an oboe, occasionally alternating with a flute—both played by himself; the orchestral playing was spry and strikingly characterful throughout. The roles of the amorous shepherd and the initially reluctant but later persuadable shepherdess were taken by Fair Oriana—a duo comprising the sopranos Penelope Appleyard and Angela Hicks, who improvised their own ornamentation with taste and skill, helping to give to their interpretation a definite sense of spontaneity. Apart from somewhat meagre trills, both were fully up to the demands of Handel’s already intricate and regularly delectable vocal writing. Read more

EARLY MUSIC REVIEWS +

30 November 2019

 It was entirely appropriate that this concert, given under the auspices of The Handel Friends, should take place in Handel’s own church of St George’s, Hanover Square, just round the corner from his surviving home. After 30-minutes of instrumental music and sumptuous interval refreshments (all part of the deal) came an inspirational performance of Handel’s pastoral cantata Aminta e Fillide, performed with the soprano duo Fair Oriana (Angela Hicks & Penelope Appleyard).

The first half-hour was devoted to instrumental music by Piatti, Hasse and Handel, well played by the seven instrumentalists of Opera Settecento. Piatti’s rarely heard Oboe Concerto in g was an attractive piece with a particularly fine Largo and a funny little ending. Hasse’s Sinfonia in g was built on scurrying five-finger scales and had a very emphatic ending. Handel’s Concerto Grosso Op3/3 is from a collection of movements concocted by his publisher Walsh. On this occasion, the solo instrument was the flute rather than the more usual oboe. In the first and third pieces, the soloist on oboe and flute was Leo Duarte, the energetic and versitile director of Opera Settecento.

Handel’s youthful (1708) Aminta e Fillide (aka Arresta il passo) was written when he was just 22 as a commission from the Academy of Arcadia in Rome. The plot is as simple as it gets. Shepherd Aminta (Angela Hicks) falls for the hard-to-get nymph Fillide (Penelope Appleyard) and is rejected until ‘the blind god’ (Cupid) manages to change her mind. Only two characters and a succession of delightful arias makes for a very attractive hour of music. Those who know their Handel would recognise several moments as the Overture and some arias were reused by Handel in later operas, including Agrippina (1709) and Rinaldo (1711). Read more

CAMDEN NEW JOURNAL

 21 November 2019

Go to almost any period performance concert – given by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, Academy of Ancient Music, or any one of a multitude of others – and the chances are you’ll find the same conspicuously animated oboist delivering exquisite solos in the woodwind section.
His name is Leo Duarte. He’s one of the hot properties of the period performance world. And as if his engagement diary wasn’t already full, he’s edging now into conducting – with his own company, Opera Settecento, that has a show next Thursday (November 28) at St George’s Hanover Square. Read more

VENCESLAO (1731)
BY GEORG FRIEDRICH HANDEL

CLASSICAL SOURCE

28 April 2019

This was the third of Handel’s pasticcios Leo Duarte has presented with Opera Settecento at the London Handel Festival (following Elpidia and Ormisda; though OS has also given Catone in Utica with a different conductor). Duarte has prepared new editions from original sources to bring to light this intriguing aspect of Handel’s operatic output, in which a musical patchwork was created by threading a variety of arias from other composers’ operas.

For Venceslao (1731) Handel adapted a pre-existing text by one of the most prominent librettists of the period, Apostolo Zeno, and drew upon operas by Vinci, Porpora, Giacomelli, Orlandini, Porta, Pollarolo, Hassi, Lotti, and Capelli, alongside two arias of unknown provenance. The Overture is probably also not attributable to Handel as it follows the Italian three-movement fast-slow-fast structure, rather than the typical French model he adopted for his own operas. More so than the two other pasticcios which Duarte has performed, Venceslao demonstrates a more consistent stylistic synthesis in the selected arias in that they represent the more up-to-date Italianate fashion with a clearer, lucid texture of crisp, long-breathed melodies over more-homophonic accompaniments, and often pounding bass parts – the sort of style that would eventually lead away from Baroque exuberance to Classical simplicity. Read more

MUSICOMH.COM

29 April 2019

Opera Settecento, directed by Leo Duarte, has quite a tradition of performing pasticcios at the London Handel festival, having presented Elpidia (1725) in 2016 and Ormisda (1730) a year later. This form was common in the eighteenth century, partly because the demands on an establishment’s resident composer to produce work were so great that it became a standard practice to bolster output in this way, and partly because there was a strong tradition of using such creations to showcase the compositions of a range of musicians of that generation.

Venceslao (1731), however, represented the last time that Handel was to create a work where he allowed the participating singers to throw their favourite arias at him to be woven into a dramatic tapestry. Their interest in doing so was to present music with which they were already familiar (in this instance, arias from operas by Vinci, Porpora, Giacomelli, Orlandini, Porta, Hasse and Lotti), but the approach also suited the composer when he was working with a new cast of untested singers as he knew they could tackle whatever they gave him.

The Venceslao of the title is Wenceslaus II, King of Poland (1271-1305) and descendent of the Good King Wenceslaus of the Christmas carol. In the opera he has two sons, the virtuous Alessandro and malevolent Casimiro. They both desire Erenice, a Princess descended from the ancient Kings of Poland, who herself loves the former. This pair, however, decide to keep their love a secret as they fear what Casimiro might do if he discovers it. The victorious general Ernando is offered any reward he wishes and asks for Erenice’s hand in marriage, with Alessandro being aware that Ernando is really asking for it on his behalf. Casimiro is furious but has his own problems when Queen Lucinda of Lithuania arrives claiming that she is betrothed to Casimiro, in an aspect of the plot that represents pure fiction. Read more

THE TIMES

30 April 2019

If people had come to the forgotten Venceslao for its novelty value, I imagine they went away remembering the singing. For all the joy of hearing Handel’s 1731 pasticcio — one of those early copyright-era operas for which composers happily got away with pilfering an aria or 23 from their colleagues — it’s a push to claim that it’s a memorable piece.

Venceslao was, after all, created for a London audience hungry for starry vocalists and the latest music from Italy. With the success of his patchwork Ormisda the previous season spurring him on, Handel stitched together his singers’ favourite numbers by composers including Vinci, Porpora, Giacomelli, Orlandini and Lotti. Some of the arias dazzle and move; others fall flat.

Commercial and artistic interests aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive, but compelling, pacey drama Venceslao is not. Yes, the librettist Apostolo Zeno’s tale of a Polish king — based on Wenceslas II, not the good king — features murder, love and rivalries. Yet momentous events are trottedout without real emotional weight, and the lack of staging and surtitles, although there was a printed libretto, did little to help.

There were fewer niggles on the musical front. The suave playing of Opera Settecento’s orchestra was irresistible, directed by Leo Duarte, who also did the scholarly heavy-lifting in bringing Venceslao to light. Hosted by the London Handel Festival, the company had fine young voices, who revelled in stylish ornamentation. As a poised Lucinda, Helen Charlston’s distinctive mezzo stood out, while as Casimiro, Michal Czerniawski’s high notes soared. Olivia Warburton was ill, but still sang Ernando with style; Christopher Jacklin popped up as Gismondo and Alessandro.

And in the title role the tenor Nicholas Pritchard was reliably expressive; his serene Ecco l’Albo was one of the highlights. For fireworks, there was no beating Galina Averina’s Erenice and her stormy, bravura close to Act II.

Rebecca Franks

THE IDLEWOMAN.NET

2 May 2019

It’s rare for a Baroque opera to look beyond the ancient world for its subject and rarer still for a librettist to look at Central and Eastern Europe; but Opera Settecento are brilliant at unearthing unusual pieces for us. This opera is (apparently) inspired by the life of Wenceslas II of Bohemia and Poland, though when I say ‘inspired’, I mean of course that opera and history bear no relation to one another. We can’t even blame Metastasio for this, because the libretto was written by Apostolo Zeno (I like to think that Metastasio would at least have tried to get some historical accuracy). Zeno’s tale is an identikit Baroque story of love, lust and power and, if I’m going to be perfectly honest, it never quite hangs together. Part of that is due to the plot, on which more shortly; but it’s exacerbated by the fact this is a pasticcio. Handel probably didn’t write anything except the recitatives: the rest was cobbled together from other composers – arias from other versions of Venceslao or from completely different operas – as a quick fix to keep audiences happy while he worked on his next original piece. On the bright side, there’s an awful lot of Leonardo Vinci here, which makes me very happy. Read more

2018

AMADIGI DI GAULA (1715)
BY GEORG FRIEDRICH HANDEL

St George’s, Hanover Square, 24 March 2018

CLASSICALSOURCE.COM

27 March 2018

London was recently treated to a concert performance of Handel’s first ‘magic’ opera, Rinaldo, by the English Concert. The London Handel Festival – presumably coincidentally – happens to present this year the two examples which followed soon after that, starting with Amadigi (1715); Teseo will be presented later. Amadigi is rather less well-known than its predecessor, and though it may be less epic, it encompasses just as much spectacle with its spirits, demons, a ghostly apparition, a fiery portal through which Amadigi (Siegfried-like) heroically passes, a hellish cave, and thunder. 

Leo Duarte energetically and vividly depicted all that in this lively account of the work with Opera Settecento, creating a dramatic, raw interpretation for some of those startling episodes, and driving Handel’s sequence of numbers with compelling urgency to sustain theatrical vigour. Together they brought out a similar sort of motoric pace perhaps more normally associated with Vivaldi’s operas, but at the time of Amadigi’s composition, the Italian composer had only written three or four works for the stage, and it is unlikely that Handel would have known them. But far from a merely brisk and impulsive dash through the score, Duarte’s reading was attuned to the particular character or Affekt of each aria, revealing the imaginative variety of Handel’s genius. The various contributions of James Eastaway and Bethan White on mournful oboes and rustic recorders, and Paul Bosworth in virtuosic ceremonial displays on trumpet provided effective points of colour.
Read more...

MUSICOMH.COM

27 March 2018

While Opera Settecento has tended to focus on pasticcios at the London Handel Festival, with Elpidia being presented in 2016 and Ormisda last March, its contribution this year was a bona fide Handel opera. Amadigi di Gaula HMV 11 is not a work that, as with some of the composer’s most obscure creations, one may only ever get a single chance to hear live, but it is still not performed with anywhere near the regularity that its brilliance merits.  

It premiered in 1715, four years after Rinaldo, but five years before Radamisto heralded the start of Handel’s total domination of London opera. It proved popular, receiving six performances in that season and six and five respectively in the two that followed. In 1789 musical historian Charles Burney declared ‘there is more enchantment and machinery in this opera than I have ever found to be announced in any other musical drama produced in England’. Upon hearing the score, in which rich, sumptuous music is complemented by darker and more reflective moments, it is easy to share his enthusiasm. Read more...

ANDREWBENSONWILSON.ORG
EARLY MUSIC REVIEWS

28 March 2018

Amadigi di Gaula (HWV 11) is a rarely performed early opera by Handel, composed in 1715 while he was staying at Burlington House (pictured), the London home of the young Earl of Burlington, Richard Boyle. It is now, in altered form, the home of the Royal Academy. Boyle had inherited the house and adjoining estate aged 10. He was around 9 years younger than Handel and was to become an influential amateur architect in Georgian London, notably for Chiswick House. By 1715, he had already completed the first of his ‘Grand Tours’ and was fast becoming a major patron of the arts and music.

Amadigi di Gaula is a curious and complex tale, based on a late 14th-century Castillian chivalric fantasy romance that also inspired Don Quixote. The tale involves Princess Oriana (not to be confused with the hero of Felix the Cat), a fictional heiress to the throne of England (the ‘Fortunate Isles’) and her protector knight, the Scottish born Amadigi of Gaul, who is love with her, as is his companion Dardano, Prince of Thrace. The evil sorceress Melissa is infatuated with Amadigi. To this end, she imprisons Oriana in a tower and Amadigi and Dardano in a nearby garden. She tries various spells to attract Amadigi, who, initially together with Dardano, is trying to rescue Oriana. After a complex series of deceptions, betrayals, jealousy and sorcery, Amadigi and Oriana are finally united, but not before Amadigi has killed Dardano and Melisa has stabbed herself as her supernatural powers fail against the power of love. Read more...

THEIDLEWOMAN.NET

29 March 2018

Opera Settecento’s contribution to this year’s London Handel Festival was a concert performance of this early work based on the bestselling 16th-century chivalric romance Amadis of Gaul. Despite his name, this parfait knight was in fact half-English (the illegitimate fruit of a union between the King of Gaul and an English princess) and was brought up in Scotland. He kept up tradition by conceiving a great amour for Oriana, heiress to the English throne (charmingly described in the libretto as ‘daughter of the King of the Fortunate Islands’). And it’s this element of the story, rather than the knightly escapades, monsters and other adventures, that Handel is concerned with here. In fact, the whole thing takes place within the bounds of an enchanted palace and its gardens. That was the excuse for some truly staggering stage effects in the original production and, although we didn’t have those at St George’s the other night, we did still get to enjoy the beautiful music; not to mention some excellent performances.

So, that garden. It belongs to the sorceress Melissa, who has imprisoned the princess Oriana in the tower of her palace and used her spells to trap Amadis and his companion Dardanus in the gardens of said stronghold. (Note for pedants: Dosso Dossi’s painting, which illustrates this post, actually shows the good enchantress Melissa from Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso, not the wicked enchantress Melissa from the Amadis legend. If this troubles you, I apologise, but you’ll just have to accept it.) Read more...

PARTERRE.COM

30 March 2018

A small-scale concert performance of Handel’s Amadigi di Gaula by the Opera Settecento orchestra last Saturday night at St. George – Handel’s own parish church—fit perfectly into the venue, thanks to Leo Duarte’s expansive conducting and a strong cast. 

In baroque opera, with sparse dynamics and articulation marks written on the score, the approach taken by the conductor and orchestra own personality can make a huge difference. This time dynamics were somewhere in between the rigid and dry English HIP tradition (The English Concert, Academy of Ancient Music) and the more radical contrasts heard from the new ‘Mediterranean’ school (Ensemble Matheus, Accademia Bizantina). Varying balances between sections depending on the aria helped to enrich the orchestral sound with a variety of colors.

It’s fun to guess from a conductor’s movements which kind of instrument they used to play: harpsichordists tend to focus on marking the beat, violinists play more with distinguishing articulations and woodwind players work more on the dynamics. Duarte is an oboist and his expressive movements intended to bring out from the orchestra nuanced attacks and flexible endings, resulting in very rich phrasing. Read more...

2017

ORMISDA (LONDON, 1730)
BY GEORG FRIEDRICH HANDEL
[CONCERT PERFORMANCE]

St George's, Hanover Square, 28 March, 2017

THEARTSDESK.COM

29 March 2017

The annual London Handel Festival is dutifully working its way through every one of Handel’s operas in a cycle that will eventually take us from Alcina to Xerxes before, presumably, starting all over again. But each year, alongside these headliners, we also get a pasticcio – an opera stitched together by Handel from the shiniest and most decorative musical scraps by his European colleagues. It’s these unknown works that often throw up the biggest surprises, giving us a wide-shot of a broader musical landscape now all but obliterated by Handel’s popularity.

The term ‘pasticcio’ originally meant pie or pastry, and like its namesake a good operatic pasticcio requires plenty of musical meat. Ormisda positively overflows with it; melodically it’s one of the most generous of all the works Handel assembled, and the combination of arias by Hasse, Vinci, Leo, Orlandini and Giacomelli was such a hit with audiences of the 1730 that it received a massive 14 performances. (To put that in context, Giulio Cesare ran for just 13 nights.) Read more...

CLASSICAL SOURCE

30 March 2017

For the third consecutive year Opera Settecento treated the London Handel Festival to a very rare outing for one of the composer’s pasticcio operas, Ormisda – believed to be the first time it has been heard since the 18th century. Handel only had a supervising hand in the work’s creation since it is an assemblage of arias by such composers as Vinci, Leo, Orlandini, Giacomelli, and Hasse, as well as unidentified others, and scholarly opinion is doubtful that Handel even composed any of the recitatives.

Nevertheless Ormisda is still of interest as it sets Handel’s music in the context of that by his most prominent contemporaries who also composed for the stage. By coincidence this pasticcio was premiered in the same season (1729-30) as Partenope which London audiences have also had the chance to see at ENO in the past month. The preponderance of arias in Ormisda are couched in the up-to-date, robust Italianate style with textures harmonically and contrapuntally simpler than Handel’s, but driven with pounding energy, not unlike Vivaldi, making for a colourful, tuneful whole. Read more...

OPERA, INNIT?

31 March 2017

Ormisda or DJ Handel at his finest

Opera Settecento returned in top form with Handel’s 1730 pasticcio of arias from Vinci, Leo, Hasse, Orlandini and other Northern Italians with ethnically ambiguous names. Team London appreciated this year’s choice very much indeed.

Tuesday was a lovely, warm day here in London so it was a pleasure to wander a bit in the Oxford Circus area, which is somewhere I go to often but only because it’s (also) the general neighbourhood of Wigmore Hall. Otherwise it’s a tourist Mecca – always crowded and 90% of the sights are clothes shops. The buildings are nice though, probably from Handel’s time.

Suffice to say I got there early and Leander and I pored over the libretto for clarification and a bit of chuckle at the 18th century translation (ruby lips, fine brows etc.). We noticed with some trepidation it was by the ubiquitous Apostolo Zeno, the very same poet who penned that jumble sale of plotlines called Faramondo (as well as many other equally questionable early 18th century libretti). We also tried to work out the storm arias judging by title. Read more...

THEIDLEWOMAN.NET

9 April 2017

I’m running slightly behind on London Handel Festival reports, but didn’t want to forget this remarkable Orsmida, dominated by an absolutely brilliant performance from the talented mezzo Maria Ostroukhova. Like Catone and Elpidia in previous Festivals, Ormisda is a pasticcio, pulled together by Handel using arias from other composers’ operas. Not only did this enable him to fill one of the slots in the 1730 opera season, easing his workload a little, but it also introduced London audiences to some top arias from the Continent. Ormisda pulls together some very enjoyable music by Hasse, Orlandini, Vinci, Leo and Giacomelli, to tell a classic opera seria tale of dynastic politics in ancient Persia.

The story opens with the coronation of Artenice, queen of Armenia. Since her father’s death, she has been the ward of the Persian king Ormisda, who decrees that she will marry whichever of his sons becomes his heir. Both these sons are equally noble, but Artenice already has eyes for the younger, Arbace, the son of Ormisda’s second wife Palmira. And Palmira, in the best tradition of Persian queens, is absolutely determined that her child will get the throne. The only problem is that Cosroe, Arbace’s half-brother, is older and a warrior of confirmed valour. He, too, loves Artenice. If Palmira can get her own way, and hasten Cosroe’s shuffle off this mortal coil, then Arbace will happily get both throne and girl. But what will the virtuous young man do, when he realises that in order to fulfil his mother’s dearest wish, and win the light of his heart, he will have to be accessory to the murder of his beloved older brother? Read more...

2016

DEMETRIO (DRESDEN, 1740)
BY JOHANN ADOLPH HASSE
[CONCERT PERFORMANCE]

 CADOGAN HALL, SLOANE TERRACE, LONDON, SEPTEMBER 21, 2016

PLANET HUGILL

September 21, 2016

MARKRONAN.COM

September 22, 2016

The libretto to Hasse’s Demetrio, by the famous Metastasio who was born and died a year before the composer, is based on real events in the mid-second century BC. In 150 BC Demetrius Soter of the Greek Seleucid dynasty, which controlled most of the Middle East north of Arabia, was defeated in battle by Alexander Balas, who had married into the Greek Ptolemaic dynasty of Egypt after cleverly presenting himself as of royal blood.

In Metastasio’s story Demetrius Soter had left his son Alcestes with the faithful Phenicius to be raised in Crete by shepherds, unaware of his royal ancestry. Later adopted by Phenicius, the young man attains the highest honours in Alexander’s army and wins the heart of the king’s daughter Cleonice. At the start of the opera Alexander has been overthrown and executed, Alcestes is missing in action, and Cleonice is proclaimed queen. She must choose a noble husband, and Phenicius must pick his moment to introduce the real background to Alcestes, who later becomes Demetrius II. Read more >>

BACHTRACK

September 23, 2016

If you were to ask the average opera-goer what their favourite opera by Johann Hasse is, the response would probably be a blank look. In many respects, Hasse is the Meyerbeer of the 18th century: hugely popular and respected in his lifetime, almost completely forgotten just a few decades afterwards, his fruitful artistic partnership with Metastasio today overlooked in favour of Gluck and Calzabigi, Mozart and Da Ponte. To hear the first British performance of his unrecorded Demetrio in modern times from Opera Settecento offered an intriguing chance to evaluate his work and consider the justice of his obscurity.

Read more here

DEHGGIAL

September 22, 2016

Opera Settecento’s latest offering is Hasse’s Demetrio, on a libretto by the indefatigable Metastasio. They were the dreamteam of the (early) 18th century opera and solidified the basis of that young-ish art form in general.

This wasn’t one of their best efforts. Sure, the lofty ideals of the Enlightenment shine through, as the opera starts with a strong feminist-friendly recit. Queen Cleonice of Syria asserts that women are as capable of ruling as men, citing other examples from around the Ancient World. Of course this is tempered a bit by her accepting the necessity of finding a husband. At least she is allowed to choose one. More or less. But it was written in 1732 so the thought counts. Then there’s her musing about the possibility of the world accepting a brave and patriotic shepherd (Alceste) as king instead of a self-entitled aristocrat (Olinto). The fact that she does not know Alceste’s identity until the end speaks well in her favour. Though it isn’t completely clear if the only reason she’s not prejudiced is because she is smitten with love, you see. But again, the thought counts. You’re a good man, Mr. Metastasio. Read more >>

ANDREW BENSON-WILSON EARLY MUSIC REVIEWS

September 23, 2016

Johann Adolph Hasse (1699-1783) is one of those historically unfortunate composers who achieved great fame during their lifetimes but have since been more-or-less forgotten. A prolific composer of opera, he was hailed by Charles Burney as being superior to all other lyric composers. Married to the famed soprano Faustina Bordoni, the couple became the Posh and Becks of their day. Usually based in Dresden in the Court of the Saxon Elector Frederick III, Hasse had special dispensation that avoided the need to travel annually to the Polish Court, where Frederick was also the elected King. He also maintained a post in Venice at the Ospedale degli Incurabili. He lived long enough to have performed in front of Bach and the young Mozart.

This was the modern première of the opera Demetrio, presented by the musically adventurous Opera Settecento.  Although the publicity suggested that we would hear the original 1732 Venice version, it was the later 1740 Dresden version that was performed. This included several new arias, but retained most of the extensive recitative of the earlier version, which was apparently written in something of a rush alongside four other new operas. The original had the unusual vocal casting of five mezzo-sopranos and a tenor, the Dresden version replacing three of the mezzos with a soprano and two high castrati.
Read more >>

ELPIDIA (LONDON, 1725)
PASTICCIO BY GEORG FRIEDRICH HANDEL
[CONCERT PERFORMANCE SUNG IN ITALIAN]

ST GEORGE’S, HANOVER SQUARE, MARCH 31, 2016 

The Times

April 4, 2016

Here is a Handel offering so obscure that the Wikipedia entry about Elpidia refers only to “a genus of deep-sea swimming cucumbers”. But that’s something else entirely. This Elpidia of 1725, splendidly resurrected for the London Handel Festival by Leo Duarte and the young British group Opera Settecento, is one of the great man’s pasticcios — those 18th-century dishes swiftly concocted by hard-pressed maestros from the arias of other composers. Aside from arranging and conducting, Handel himself in this one might only have contributed sticky tape and some bars of recitative, though it would be a churlish fool who didn’t applaud this performance simply because George Frideric didn’t write the tunes.

The best arias in Elpidia came from the operas of Leonardo Vinci. Their decorative thrills and frills were made to order for the gleaming soprano of Erica Eloff, cast as the lovely Italian princess whose charms reduce every male character to jelly. When Eloff hit a top note, the sound emerged so exact and bright that it was as if she was ringing a doorbell; though with her emotional penetration and mercurial colour range she never ever appeared to be a machine.

Of the rest, Rupert Charlesworth, pitch-perfect, particularly shone as Vitiges, the Goth king. With the two chief rivals for Elpidia, Joe Bolger’s soft-grained countertenor sat in the shadows next to Rupert Enticknap’s trumpetings, though he broke through the veil for his final aria, contemplating death. The other singers, Chris Jacklin and Maria Ostroukhova, chipped in usefully. The handsomest support came from Duarte’s orchestra — lean and tight, particularly gorgeous in the airy, simple accompaniments dominated by unison strings. All told this was a delightful evening, even without a gripping plot. Or sea cucumbers.

Geoff Brown

musicOMH.com

April 3, 2016

Like Berenice, performed at St George’s, Hanover Square exactly two weeks earlier, Elpidia of 1725 is a little known Handel opera. That is if it can be described as being by him at all, for it is actually a pasticcio, a work built around music from a range of composers. These were very common in the eighteenth century, partly because the demands on an establishment’s resident composer to produce work were so great that it became a standard practice to bolster output in this way, and partly because there was a strong tradition of using such creations to showcase the compositions of a range of musicians of that generation.

Handel’s precise hand in Elpidia is not entirely clear and has been the subject of much academic research. It seems, however, that the music came primarily from Leonardo Vinci and Giuseppe Orlandini, with additional songs by Antonio Lotti, Domenico Sarro and Giovanni Maria Capelli. Handel probably wrote much of the recitative and possibly one duet, and certainly produced and directed the performances. However, the work, which utilises a text from Apostolo Zeno, was originally put together by Owen Swiny, an agent of the Royal Academy of Music in Venice, after hearing three operas by Vinci and Orlandini during the Venice Carnival season of 1724/25.
Read more...

OPERA TODAY

April 2, 2016

Roll up! A new opera by Handel is to be performed, L’Elpidia overo li rivali generosi. It is based upon a libretto by Apostolo Zeno with music by Leonardo Vinci – excepting a couple of arias by Giuseppe Orlandini and, additionally, two from Antonio Lotti’s Teofane (which the star bass, Giuseppe Maria Boschi brought with him from the Dresden production of 1719).

The secco recitative, it is presumed, is by Handel (who may also have contributed two accompanied recitatives, a duet and part of the Sinfonia). Imagine such an announcement, for an opera ‘by’ Handel which includes almost no music by him, but which predominantly presents music by a composer who never wrote an opera called Elpidia. Read more...

BACHTRACK

April 1, 2016

Generous rivals? Handel's Elpidia unearthed by Opera Settecento

The London Handel Festival has been trundling along for 39 years now, presenting an annual feast for lovers of the great 18th-century composer and his contemporaries. In collaboration with Opera Settecento, they put on Handel's first pasticcio, Elpidia, created for the King's Theatre, Haymarket in 1725 and never again seen until this year's festival. The pasticcio form is essentially a musical smörgåsbord: a selection of arias ripped from existing operas by other composers assembled on a recitative tablecloth provided by the 'composer'. Read more here

GUARDIAN

April 1, 2016

Opera Settecento gave Handel’s insightful story of love and war a fine modern airing with superb performances

Premiered in 1725 and given its first modern outing by Opera Settecento at this year’s London Handel Festival, Elpidia, or The Generous Rivals, is one of Handel’s pasticcio. It is a work which the composer, in his role as entrepreneur, assembled from pre-existing music – in this case mostly from arias by Leonardo Vinci and Giuseppe Maria Orlandini. Though frowned on by later generations, the practice was common in the 18th century and occasionally resulted in some strikingly successful music theatre.

Elpidia is set in 6th century Ravenna during the war between the Byzantine forces under Belisario and the Goths led by King Vitige. The “generous rivals” in the title refers to the friends Olindo and Ormonte. Both in love with Elpidia, Queen of Puglia, and each willing to give her up for the sake of the other, they are different from Vitige, who also desires her but is prepared to use underhand means to win her over. The concocted score combines heady beauty with some fine psychological insights. Olindo’s hauteur contrasts nicely with Ormonte’s gentleness. Vitige, in particular, is superbly characterised as a man capable of sincere affection and dangerous anger.

Conducted by Leo Duarte, Opera Settecento performed it with their customary style and commitment. There was some magnificent singing, though Ormonte lies fractionally low for Joe Bolger, and Chris Jacklin had little chance to shine in the thankless role of Belisario. Erica Eloff, on the other hand, rose to the challenges of the taxing title role with superb virtuosity and tonal beauty. Eloff is very much emerging as a singer to watch out for, as are Rupert Charlesworth – thrillingly authoritative and charismatic as Vitige – and Rupert Enticknap as the commanding, technically accomplished Olindo. Maria Ostroukhova sounded very voluptuous as Vitige’s daughter Rosmilda, who is hopelessly in love with Ormonte across enemy lines.

Tim Ashley

CLASSICALSOURCE.COM

April 1, 2016

Describing Elpidia as a composition of Handel’s would come in for some rough treatment under the Trade Descriptions Act since it is really a pasticcio cobbling together arias from the works of his Italian contemporaries such as Vinci, Lotti, Giacomelli, Capelli, and Orlandini. There may be plenty of other operas from the authentic Handelian canon with which today’s audiences remain unfamiliar but it is still good to hear this even greater rarity and sample this hotchpotch of music originating from the hands of composers who stood alongside Handel as the foremost exponents of opera seria. It is also intriguing to think that while Handel was preparing this work for its premiere in London in 1725, these are the models he looked towards, and at the same time he was also creating masterpieces such as Giulio Cesare, Tamerlano, and Rodelinda.

Anybody with reasonably informed knowledge of Baroque music will recognise Elpidia’s main musical components as not being by Handel, except for the recitatives which he wrote to forge the selection into some order, and possibly one brief duet. Opera Settecento returned to the London Handel Festival following its revival of Catone, another pasticcio, last year. Although the range of arias does not make for a stylistic unity, this nevertheless brought out the best from Leo Duarte and his ensemble who interpreted the character and quirks of the numbers with consistent verve and sprit. To take one example, in Belisario’s aria ‘Dopo il vento’ the performers precisely mimicked the howling of the winds by the oscillating dynamics of their tremolos. In other arias of less musical interest, Duarte still held the audience’s attention with subtle variations of tempo or timbre to bring an otherwise monotonous texture to life.

The story of the rivalry between Olindo and Ormonte for the hand of Elpidia (set against the Dark Age wars of the Goths against Italy) was played out respectively by Rupert Enticknap and Joe Bolger very sensitively, where the other soloists tended to declaim their parts more forcefully (at least initially). Enticknap’s more incisive, steelier-edged quality of singing suited Olindo’s haughty and vengeful pursuit of Elpidia at Ormonte’s expense, whereas Bolger’s softer-grained manner (more in the alto range than soprano) realised Ormonte’s more generous and magnanimous role effectively (as he eventually cedes Elpidia to Olindo).

Erica Eloff’s Elpidia started off almost strident but that is in-keeping with the character, and to her well-rounded tone she could also match notable vocal agility, which served her in good stead both for the technical demands and to reveal more tender affections later on. As the only other female in this opera – Rosmilda, the daughter of the warring Goth, Vitiges – Maria Ostroukhova sang with a more burnished tone, offering an attractive musical presence if less dramatic allure. Chris Jacklin and Rupert Charlesworth projected their parts powerfully, perhaps at some cost to their musical elegance. But they both demonstrated more nuance later in the development of their characters.

In their different ways, then, the soloists and the ensemble drew real personality and vitality from a score which has lain unperformed for nearly three centuries, and that is no achievement in itself.

Curtis Rogers

2015

ADRIANO IN SIRIA (NAPLES, 1734)
OPERA IN THREE ACTS BY GIOVANNI BATTISTA PERGOLESI TO A LIBRETTO BY METASTASIO
[CONCERT PERFORMANCE SUNG IN ITALIAN]

CADOGAN HALL, SEPTEMBER 16, 2015

DAILY TELEGRAPH [ONLINE]

September 17, 2015

In his acceptance speech as newly elected leader of the Labour Party, Jeremy Corbyn referred admiringly to “passion”, yet as 18th-century opera frequently illustrates, it is an emotion to be restrained.

The most famous librettist, Metastasio, often dealt with the tug-of-war between passion and reason, showing how noble, rational behaviour in the face of adversity can prevent tragedy, leading to catharsis for audience and protagonists alike.

So it is here, where the Roman Emperor Adriano (Hadrian) has conquered the Parthian King Osroa (Osroes) and fallen in love with his daughter Emirena, betrothed to the Parthian prince Farnaspe (Pharnaspes). To make matters worse, Adriano is betrothed to Sabina, a Roman noblewoman with whom his confidant Aquilio is in love.

After an emotional roller-coaster in which Osroa, in disguise, sets fire to the palace, and Aquilio's plots are undone, Adriano forgives the repentant conspirators, frees Osroes and Aquilio, accepts Sabina, and unites Emirena with Farnaspe. Read more...

GUARDIAN

September 17, 2015

Pergolesi was only 26 when he died from tuberculosis in 1736. Posterity has long acknowledged him as a great composer of sacred music, but we have yet to gain the full measure of his operas, only one of which, the impish little comedy La Serva Padrona, has been heard with any frequency. The very different Adriano in Siria, dating from 1734, has only just been given its UK premiere by Opera Settecento. It arouses mixed feelings, in truth.

Setting a text by Pietro Metastasio, it’s a meditation on the relationship between sex and power. In Roman-occupied Antioch, the Emperor Hadrian (Adriano) is pressing his attentions on Emirena, daughter of the deposed King Osroa, to the horror of both Emirena’s lover Farnaspe and Adriano’s politically convenient fiancée Sabina. The score is unquestionably beautiful, though there are flaws of shape and emphasis. The second act is glorious, but there’s a preponderance of slow elegiac arias in the first, and too high a proportion of recitative to aria in the third. Pergolesi intended Farnaspe, a role written for the castrato Caffarelli, to be the star: it is Osroa, however, raging, tragic and wonderfully complex, who most fully captured his imagination and forms the centre of dramatic focus.

Opera Settecento performed it with authoritative style and grace, though the roles of Adriano and his duplicitous sidekick Aquilo didn’t always lie comfortably for countertenors Michael Taylor and Cenk Karaferya, the latter battling tonsillitis and omitting one of his arias. Hungarian tenor Gyula Rab, though, was commandingly brilliant as Osroa. Erica Eloff did spectacular things with Farnaspe’s treacherously difficult coloratura. Maria Ostroukhova, a fine dramatic soprano, was the anguished Emirena, Augusta Hebbert the implacably dignified Sabina. Leo Duarte, more familiar as an oboist, conducted with great elegance. It was exquisitely played.

Tim Ashley

THE IDLEWOMAN: POTTERINGS IN HISTORY AND FICTION

theidlewoman.blogspot.co.uk

It's no exaggeration to say that I’d been looking forward to this Adriano in Siria since the curtain fell on the last one. It's the first full opera I’ve heard by the precociously gifted Pergolesi, who died at the age of only 26, and who is best known here in England for his haunting Stabat Mater. However, I suspect I'll get to know Adriano itself pretty well by the end of the year. The production company Parnassus will soon be releasing their own new recording of the opera, featuring a rather formidable cast, and Opera Settecento’s concert performance was perfectly timed to whet appetites and throw down the gauntlet. Read more...

Planet Hugill

September 18, 2015

Dramatically engaging performance of an unjustly neglected Pergolesi opera seria

Pergolesi is now best known for his Stabat Mater and his comic operas. But these comic operas often started out life as interludes between the acts of a longer opera seria, yet Pergolesi's four opere serie seem to have been forgotten. On Wednesday 16 September 2015 at the Cadogan Hall, Opera Settecento (artistic director Miranda Jackson) gave the first UK performance of Pergolesi's opera Adriano in Siria, a setting of Metastasio's libretto (also set by JC Bach as performed by Classical Opera, see my review) which premiered in Naples in 1734 (two years before Pergolesi's death. Leo Duarte conducted a strong and highly international cast with Michael Taylor as Adriano, Maria Ostroukhova as Emirena, Erica Eloff as Farnaspe, Augusta Hebbert as Sabina, Gyula Rab as Osroa, Cenk Karaferya as Aquilio. Leo Duarte conducted the Orchestra of Opera Settecento playing on period instruments. Read more...

The Passacaglia Test

the passacagliatest.com

September 20, 2015

Adriano in Siria is one of several of Metastasio’s opera seria libretti which were used by more than 60 composers, in this case from the first setting in 1732 by Caldara, to the last by Mercadante in 1828; J.C. Bach’s version of 1765 was staged in London earlier in 2015. Adriano ends with a gesture of imperial magnanimity; hence many of the new versions were composed for royal occasions across Europe, such as Pergolesi’s setting, performed in Naples in October 1734, which was dedicated to Charles Bourbon, Duke of Parma and future king of Spain, whose forces had captured the kingdom of Sicily and its capital Naples the previous May. Read more...

CATONE IN UTICA (LONDON, 1732)

PASTICCIO OPERA IN THREE ACTS AFTER LEONARDO LEO’S CATONE IN UTICA TO A LIBRETTO BY METASTASIO [CONCERT PERFORMANCE SUNG IN ITALIAN] BY GEORGE FRIDERIC HANDEL

ST. GEORGE’S, HANOVER SQUARE, MARCH 17
(PART OF THE LONDON HANDEL FESTIVAL)

OPERA

June 2015

Opera Settecento’s cast for LHF's concert performance included at least three finalists of previous festivals’ Handel Singing Competitions, ensuring high vocal and stylistic standards.
 

Handel’s so-called pasticii – the composer never described them as such – belong to two distinct categories: this, three in number, in which he predominantly recycled music from his own earlier operas, and 12 further “compilation” works assembled from the music of other composers. The London Handel Festival gave Handelians the rare opportunity of sampling one of each type, Catone in Utica – based on a Metastasio setting by Leonardo Leo with additional arias by Vivaldi, Poro, Hasse and Vinci – and Giove in Argo, all but two of whose arias are familiar from other sources. Read more...

Spectator

March 2015

Handel’s Catone in Utica casts its musical net wider than Giove, incorporating arias by Vivaldi, Hasse, Porpora and Vinci into a framework provided loosely by a Leonardo Leo/Metastasio original. In this one-off concert performance by Opera Settecento, featuring neither surtitles nor freely available libretto, the Roman plot was frankly baffling, but it says a lot about the nature of pasticcio that it really didn’t matter. Read more...

GUARDIAN

Compelling and beautifully done

Marcus Cato was one of the last great figures of the Roman republic. Fiercely opposed to the absolutism of Julius Caesar, he took his own life at Utica in north Africa after his military defeat by Caesar’s imperial army made the latter’s rise to power inevitable. His story, still relevant, was popular in the 18th century, when republican values clashed with autocracy. In 1732, Handel, in his role as impresario, devised a pasticcio on the subject – Catone in Utica – fashioning the score from pre-existing arias by such contemporaries as Vivaldi, Hasse, Vinci and Leonardo Leo. Read more...

BACHTRACK

Cut-and-shut Baroque: Handel's Catone in Utica from Opera Settecento

 "I am just come from a long, dull, and consequently tiresome Opera of Handel's, whose genius seems quite exhausted...” Such was the grumpy verdict of John Hervey, first Earl of Bristol, writing to his friend Stephen Fox after a performance of Handel's latest pasticcio, Catone in Utica, on 4 November 1732 at King’s Haymarket. In his quest to give the London public a taste for Italian opera, every season Handel would include a pasticcio, an accepted mode of creating opera in which the organising genius could use a collage of music from different composers to set any given libretto.

Read more here

OPERA BRITANNIA

Does anybody know if there’s a collective noun for pasticcios? Perhaps a ‘rash’ would be appropriate, as we’re having a spate of them here in London with more to come. The latest offering as part of the London Handel Festival is ‘Handel’s’ Catone, first performed at the King’s Theatre, Haymarket in 1732. 

The opera in question is an adaptation of Leonardo Leo’s 1729 setting of Catone in Utica for the Teatro di San Giovanni Crisostomo in Venice, now called the Teatro Malibran. Handel made a number of changes, introducing Londoners to arias by Hasse, Porpora, Vinci and even Vivaldi. If Vivaldi ever knew about this version, it must have added insult to injury that his arias were being used in an opera originally written for his home city by a non-Venetian. Vivaldi himself turned to the libretto in 1735 and produced some remarkable arias in the process. Read more...

CLASSICAL SOURCE

2015 seems to be the year of the pasticcio. The main operatic production of this year’s London Handel Festival will be one of his own examples, Giove in Argo (based upon his operas), and this one-off performance featured another, Catone in Utica from 1732 based upon a work by Leonardo Leo, one of the leading lights of Neapolitan opera. The Handel Festival in Halle will programme Semiramide in June, and London audiences of Baroque opera have already had their appetite for this composite form whetted by the performance of one specimen by Vivaldi in February just gone.

With our Romantic conceptions of artistic integrity and originality we probably regard the idea of a pasticcio as artificial and limited, in the way that a composer would stitch together existing numbers from his own or others’ works into a newly assembled collage. The formulaic structure of Baroque opera seria (comprising the basic component of recitative-aria as its building block) can offer a series of discrete receptacles in which composers can explore a given emotional or dramatic situation in some depth, and so the interpolation of arias from other operas need not entail any compromise to aesthetic validity. But in this case even Handel seems to have been stumped in creating a cogent and vivid drama (despite drawing on operas by Hasse, Porpora, Vinci and Vivaldi – though curiously not the latter’s own setting of the libretto – apart from Leo’s own Catone): no fewer than four arias use the stock metaphor of a ship adrift upon the eddying waves of the sea – and two of those are given to Cesare. Read more...

THE IDLEWOMAN: POTTERINGS IN HISTORY AND FICTION

theidlewoman.blogspot.co.uk

We're all going to be hearing rather a lot about Catone in Utica this year, so let's get things off to a roaring start with a performance I saw last night at St George's, Hanover Square, formerly Handel's parish church, as part of the Festival. Although the opera was put together by Handel for his 1732 season, it's stretching the truth a bit to say that it's by him. Handel had to fill out his programmes somehow and so, at this stage of his career, he often produced one or two pasticcio operas each season alongside his own works. These pasticci were assembled from arias by several other composers and tailored by Handel to meet the taste of his demanding British public. I hasten to add that they were 'demanding' in the sense that they were easily bored by recitative and apparently needed a series of big hits to keep their attention: Catone in Utica is stuffed full of storm arias. Handel's choices are interesting in other ways too: he gave the character of Arbace some surprisingly upbeat arias from other operas, which in turn affects his characterisation (positively, I felt); and he chose to cut Catone's first aria, “Con sì bel nome in fronte”. In some versions this can drag on slightly and I wonder if Handel  felt it was best to get his audience straight into the midst of the characters' romantic tribulations. The rather fabulous thing is that Opera Settecento's production last night was the first time that Handel's Catone pasticcio had been staged since 1732. I find that rather wonderful. Read more...

OPERA, INNIT? A GOOD MEZZO AND TITO GUIDE

https://dehggial.wordpress.com

It was Handel’s habit to put on a pasticcio every season where a libretto was matched with interchangeable arias from other operas and composers. This one is from 1732 and is based on Leonardo Leo’s opera of the same title about good ol’ Roman man of principle Cato. It’s an opera libretto so only marginally about ethics. Mostly it’s about who marries/loves whom.

First off Opera Settecento: buttah sound, played with gusto and spot on all night, even allowed themselves mad playfulness with one number that came dangerously close to a stomping techno beat. Read more...

2014

Griselda (Venice, 1735) by Antonio Vivaldi

Cadogan Hall, London, September 18

PLANET HUGILL, September 19

Bravura performances galore from new opera company in Vivaldi's rare gem 

Opera Settecento (musical director Thomas Foster, artistic director Miranda Jackson) is a new company which has been set up to focus on Italian opera seria from the 18th century. They launched themselves with a dazzling concert performance of Vivaldi's Griselda at Cadogan Hall  on 18 September 2014. This showcased a new edition of the work which restored Vivaldi's original (and more difficult) first thoughts. The cast was an interesting mix of youth and experience, with a cast including Ronan Busfield, Hilary Summers, Kiandra Howarth, Erica Eloff, Tom Verney, and Andrew Watts. Thomas Foster directed from the harpsichord. READ MORE...

jamesedwardhughes.com, September 19

Opera Settecento’s first production left no doubt that this young Opera Company will make its mark on the Baroque music scene in the years to come.

Opera Settecento burst onto the Baroque music scene with a concert production of Vivaldi’s Griselda at Cadogan Hall. Drawing on internationally renowned singers such as contralto Hilary Summers and countertenor Andrew Watts, as well as promoting up-and-coming new talent, Opera Settecento’s intention is to resurrect the “unjustly neglected ‘opera seria’ scores from the 18th century” which reside in the vaults of libraries and archives all over Europe. The company is led by its Musical Director, Thomas Foster. READ MORE...

BACHTRACK, September 20

Opera Settecento launches new opera venture with Vivaldi’s Griselda.

When compared to the operas of Handel, Vivaldi’s operas are still relative rarities either on stage or in concert. There have been a handful of performances in UK in the last five years, of which I’ve heard two, Ottone in Villa and L’Olimpiade. It was his late opera Griselda (1735) that the newly-formed opera company Opera Settecento chose for their London launch at the Cadogan Hall. As the name suggests, their aim is “to bring to the stage forgotten works from the 1700s” such as operas by Pergelesi, Scarlatti, Caldara, Porpora, Vinci and others.

Read more here

OPERA, December 2014 

Vivaldi’s Griselda (1735), a late work, has figured prominently among the modern revivals of some of the 194 operas that he claimed to have written. Opera Settecento’s concert performance was enjoyable. The internet supplied in advance Apostolo Zeno’s ample, often-set, poetic libretto as refurbished by Goldoni for Vivaldi’s particular cast. In the hall, a handsome programme book with interesting essays included the somewhat abbreviated text (not always quite accurately lineated) of what was sung, along with an English rendering thereof. (The lighting was slightly too low to make slender italic type readable at a glance.) READ MORE...