La Clemenza di Tito
Opera Atelier, with Measha Brueggergosman
At the Elgin Theatre In Toronto on Friday
Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito belongs to an operatic sub-genre called “opera seria.” This is Italian for “serious opera” – but for some opera-goers the term has foreboding implications: dull and preachy stories, two-dimensional characters, static staging and formulaic music. Small wonder it’s not performed much nowadays.
But anyone who went to Toronto’s Elgin Theatre on Friday night to see Opera Atelier’s La Clemenza di Tito expecting something as serious as a heart attack was in for a big surprise. The company has put together a production that manages to be lively and engaging, with touches of humour, while paying full due to the high-mindedness that’s essential to this kind of opera.
The plot is complicated, to say the least, and I couldn’t possibly explain all its ins and outs here. Fortunately, Opera Atelier’s Marshall Pynkoski, who staged this production, has done a marvellous job of dramatically clarifying all the political intrigues and love triangles that swirl around Tito, the Roman emperor. As well, Pynkoski and co-artistic director Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg have assembled a youthful and energetic cast, including a couple of singers who are bound to attract special notice.
Toronto’s famously famous Measha Brueggergosman, whose radiant soprano voice has taken her to concert halls around the world (but whose appearances in staged opera productions have been relatively rare) sang the role of Vitellia. Consumed by her desire to marry Tito and become empress, Vitellia is a nasty piece of work, and responsible for much of the dramatic tension driving the opera. Set and costume designer Gerard Gauci seems to have had a black widow spider in mind when he put her in a solid black dress with a flash of red.
Brueggergosman rose to the occasion – not just vocally, but dramatically as well. Anyone who doubts that she can really get inside an operatic role should drop by the Elgin Theatre to see her sing daunting leaps and embellishments while madly flailing about the stage. No less impressively, by the end of Act II, Brueggergosman’s Vitellia is a transformed woman, inward looking and sincerely penitent for all the grief she has caused everyone else.
Opera Atelier’s audience is already well acquainted with Michael Maniaci from his three previous appearances with the company. In this production he portrays Sesto, Tito’s friend and would-be assassin. His male soprano voice-type is extremely rare – and about as close to an 18th-century castrato as we are likely to hear today. Yet there’s nothing weird or off-putting about his voice: On the contrary, Maniaci sings with such security and flexibility that his audience is happily drawn into a willing suspension of disbelief.
With two such remarkable singers on stage, Kresimir Spicer, appearing in the title role of Tito, had his work cut out for him. He’s a good garden-variety tenor, with nothing really special or unusual in his voice. What he does have, however, is a clear, lyrical tone – and in the second half of the opera he introduces a dramatic edge to his vocal palette, as he struggles with dire moral dilemmas.
The rest of the cast – mezzo Mireille Lebel as Annio, baritone Curtis Sullivan as Publio and soprano Mireille Asselin as Servilia – brought their roles to life with skill and commitment. And the whole performance was ably propelled forward by conductor David Fallis, leading the cast, chorus and Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra.
Finally, as in all Opera Atelier productions, there was a corps de ballet. Choreographed by Zingg (who was also one of the dancers), its contribution to this particular opera was as elegant as it was gratuitous. Often, the dances seemed willfully shoehorned into the production, and simply got in the way.
