Piccolo Coro Mariele Ventre Dell'antoniano Che Paura!

In 1973, soprano Beverly Sills, tenor Stuart Burrows, Paul Plishka (baritone) and Shirley Verrett (mezzo-dramatic soprano), joined talents to make a powerfully dramatic opera about the tragedy of Anne Boylen at the hands of Henry the 8th. It was a great success in the New York City Opera and to this day, no other operatic forces have since rivaled them…

Too much ink has been spilt on this Clemenza di Tito supposedly composed in 18 days and which, so it is said, was conspicuously out of step with the times in 1791 . . . The interpretation offered here by René Jacobs is nothing short of revolutionary. Not only does it rehabilitate the original score in its entirety, notably the recitatives: it also restores the powerfully classical inspiration so essential to opera seria. In the final years of the Enlightenment, this was still the favoured genre of the educated man, and it is sheer delight to hear the language of Metastasio beginning to sing once more. As if magic, La clemenza suddenly springs to new and exciting life.

Star countertenor Philippe Jaroussky continues his exploration of operatic settings of the Orpheus myth with the most famous of the many operas inspired by the story of the Greek poet who searches for his dead wife in the Underworld: Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice. It contains one of the world's best-loved operatic arias, Orfeo's restrained, but moving lament, 'Che farò senza Euridice'.

Anna Bolena premiered in 1830 and was Donizetti’s first great success–and it remains one of his finest works. Aside from his usual endless fount of melodies, we find through-composed scenes wherein recitative seamlessly melds into arioso and into aria or ensemble. Anna manages to come across as a real character, as does the unfortunate Jane Seymour, who has the (bad) luck to be Henry VIII’s new love; and Henry’s music, too, is composed effectively for this royal villain. Less successfully portrayed but still with a couple of fine arias and some stunning ensemble music is Anna’s brother Percy. He’s an earthbound character but his music is wonderful and difficult (it was composed for the legendary Rubini).

After Il Fortunato inganno and La Zingara, the Martina Franca Festival has revived another neglected masterpiece by Donizetti, Pietro il Grande o sia il Falegname di Livonia. First staged in Venice in 1819, this work met with good success and was performed until 1827. The silence that followed is justifiable only on account of the enormous success reaped by works such as Elisir d'amore, Don Pasquale and Lucia di Lammermoor, for in Pietro il Grande there is no lack of inspiration and Donizetti's creativity is, quite the opposite, generous and surprising.

Serse is a light and elegant comedy. It opens with the most famous of all Handel's arias, the notorious “Ombre mai fu“ (or Largo), quite a different piece when heard in context. Its mock solemnity sets the tone for what follows. The opera moves swiftly and charmingly, the recitatives often interspersed with brief ariosos rather than full-fledged arias. Outstanding in the cast is Hendricks, her voice flexible and distinctive, clearer and purer than it would become (after the tone began to unknit). She sings with great charm. Watkinson is a fluent Serse but doesn't leave a lasting impression. Oddly enough, I enjoyed Esswood's work more.

The titular character of Bellini’s Il pirata is the tenor, Gualtiero, but it is the soprano, Imogene, who leaves the most powerful impression, thanks above all to her lengthy and dramatic closing scena. Il pirata had fallen into obscurity before it was revived for Callas at La Scala in May 1958. She went on to make a studio recording of the final scene a few months later and early in 1959 starred in this concert performance at New York’s Carnegie Hall. Collaborating with one of her favourite conductors, Nicola Rescigno, she electrified the audience with singing of inimitable poetry and theatrical power.

'Serse' comes late in the Handel opera list, with only two more attempts at the form remaining. Adapted from the libretto originally prepared for Cavalli's 'Xerses' in 1655 (itself a great opera), 'Serse' remains true to its Venetian roots. The action, which is largely comic, moves fluidly through short arias, ariosos and ariettas. Serse is a parody of the self-important ruler; "Ombra mai fu,' possibly Handel's most famous setting of Italian words, is in fact a love song to a plane tree originally intended to be sung by a man who had been castrated. Irony does not go much deeper than this. The characters that surround Serse are an uncommonly varied lot with the plain-speaking Atalanta a particular joy.

On 7th February 1857, after a delay of one year due to problems of copyright on a possible production of King Lear, Verdi accepted and signed a new agreement with the Teatro di San Carlo of Naples for an opera to be staged in January or February 1858. Not long after he had put behind the experiences of Simon Boccanegra (June 1857) and Aroldo (August), Verdi, then, had to face the issue of a new subject for Naples, which would no longer be King Lear, discarded for various reasons, and not even El tesorero del Rey by António García Gutiérrez or Ruy Blas by Hugo, to which he had given more serious thought, but Gustave III by Eugène Scribe, a play written in 1833 for Daniel Auber in which the king of Sweden is assassinated, in 1792, by a group of noblemen led by Jacob Ankarström. The composition of the score, between October 1857 and January 1858, went hand in hand with Verdi’s complex relationship with the Neapolitan censors, who would end up distorting the libretto and unnerving the composer to the point that he ended up refusing to stage the opera and breaking his agreement with the theatre.