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Polishing another forgotten gem
France's uncrowned Charles VII, sung by Ben Johnson, hails Kate Ladner as Joan of Arc. Pictures: Jonathan Keenan Giovanna d’Arco
Buxton Opera House
Buxton Festival
*****
THERE were at least two 19th
century operas on the heroic and tragic subject of Joan of Arc:
Tchaikovsky’s The Maid of Orleans
appears from time to time; the other is
Giovanna d’Arco,
one of Verdi’s early operas on which he cut
his teeth (his seventh, first staged at La Scala, Milan in February
1845) several years before the great sequence of
Rigoletto,
Traviata
and Trovatore
(others would claim that Luisa Miller
is a deserving early mature work still
sorely neglected, and they are surely right). In
fact many of these early works have merits of one kind or another. From
Joan of Arc, though the drama is not as effectively built as it might
be, certainly visually. Above all, there is no graphic burning, such as
would furnish a director and designer with an absolute visual and
dramatic field day, on or offstage. In fact the later stages,
though stemming to whatever degree from Friedrich Schiller’s play The
Maid of Orleans (from which Tchaikovsky takes his title: Orleans is
the city Joan dazzlingly saves in just nine days, relieving it from the
besieging English at the outset of her soldiering career), are somewhat
weak, because the story is severely attenuated in a way Verdi would not
have contemplated later. Yet the closing stages are
superbly built up (here by the immensely proficient Northern Chamber
Orchestra conducted by Stuart Stratford) - just as Act I achieves and
maintains a musical depth quite comparable with Verdi’s full-blooded
later works). Stuart Stratford is a superb
asset to those sharp enough to engage him. Some Behind the Arras
readers will know all too well what he has achieved directing the CBSO,
and, before that, proficient scratch Further afield, Stratford has proved a longstanding asset to Opera Holland Park, for whom he has conducted a dozen productions, including two of Verdi: Rigoletto and La Forza del Destino.
One of the others he oversaw
was Holland Park’s Lucia di Lammermoor, the Donizetti masterpiece
which Artistic Director Stephen Barlow conducted at Buxton this summer.
Having conducted John Adams (Doctor Atomic) for Finnish National
Opera, Stratford is returning this year for The Rake’s Progress.
It is an impressive roster for this always striking, enabling and still
relatively young conductor. The somewhat flawed story as
unveiled in Temistocle Solera’s libretto for Giovanna d’Arco
includes an unlikely love match between Joan and Charles VII, who has
succeeded his father, the dotty old Charles VI (memorably evoked in
Laurence Olivier’s film Henry V). All this is fanciful, but owes
something to Schiller’s slightly corny idea of how a drama is built.
Joan is not burnt, but miraculously escapes English captivity to lead
the French to further victory; then, near death, she miraculously
recovers - to be pardoned by her repentant father and lamented by all
concerned before touchingly expiring. Perhaps
the most serious omission in this Joan of Arc is the trial for
witchcraft instigated by the English, which plays such a crucial and
dramatic role in George Bernard Shaw’s play St. Joan. The brutal
cynicism of her enemies – on both sides – is driven home both by the
harshness of the inquisitor and by the cruelty of the sentence. Yet if some of the plot is
pure fantasy, the truncated opera somehow still appeals, mainly because
Verdi is on the verge of arriving – indeed has already arrived – as a
composer: the music is strong and forceful – electrifying in places; and
certain elements of the slimmed-down drama patently anticipate his later
operas, most obviously the paternal disapproval and then repentance of
Rigoletto and La Traviata. One of the glories of Buxton –
apart from the blossoming of its Literature festival events, especially
under the chairmanship of Roy Hattersley - has been its unique and
awesome record in presenting to the public a wide range of lesser known
or neglected operas. This summer as well as Giovanna d’Arco (Verdi’s seventh opera), it has brought in three concert performances of Louise, the once incredibly popular opera by the long-lived Gustave Charpentier (1860-1956; not the famous and prolific 18th century master Marc-Antoine Charpentier), which was first seen at Paris’s Opéra-Comique on 2 February 1900, just two weeks after Puccini’s Tosca premiered at the Teatro Costanzi in Rome. But Buxton is in the habit of
turning unknowns into successes. It ranges The Coronation of the Dauphin (Ben Johnson) as Charles VII at Rheims All three composers are virtual unknowns in the UK. From Mozart’s early
output came no les than six offerings: Il re pastore, The Dream of
Scipio, La finta semplice, Apollo and Hyacinthus,
Mitridate and Ascanio in Alba, all predating his 20th
birthday. Buxton put its toe in the
water with Vivaldi before Garsington Opera (Griselda), keeping
abreast in 2012 and 2013 with L’Olympiade then Ottone in Villa);
embraced Cavalli (Jason), and mounted or imported three rare
Cimarosa; plus Telemann, Haydn and Schubert (Fierrabras). From
the 19th century, where else would you find Gounod’s The Dove,
Saint-Saëns’ sparkling La princesse jaune, Messager’s Véronique
and Fortunio, Peter Cornelius’ The Barber of Baghdad or
Sibelius’ The Maiden in the Tower (1896)? One miraculous opera performed in Buxton’s fourth season (1982) was Kodály’s Háry János – a kind of poignant nationalistic collage, a hilarious and touching hit never seen in this country but crying out for an airing: what imagination on Buxton’s part. And that is before one looks
at its extensive repertoire from the later 20th century,
early examples of which were Maxwell Davies’ The Two Fiddlers,
Nigel Osborne’s The Electrification of the Soviet Union, and
later Philippe Boesmans’ Julie (based on Strindberg), Judith
Weir’s The Black Spider, the brilliantly inventive
Salvatore Sciarrino (The Killing Flower), Will Todd’s thumpingly
good The Blackened Man and two Arthurian Round Table operas,
Richard Blackford’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and Lynn
Plowman’s hilariously colourful spoof Gwyneth and the Green Knight. A mere glance at this list,
almost all of which are rarities or utterly neglected, shows how bold
and imaginative the planners have been; Buxton’s repertoire is probably
the most daring in the UK - and reveals the festival’s confidence in
trusting to its own instincts in the knowledge that its audience trusts
it and will fill the seats, as they invariably do. Buxton’s artistic director,
Stephen Barlow, has said ‘Verdi’s Giovanna d’Arco (Joan of Arc,
dating from 1845) startles with its electric voltage and sympathy for
the heroine, laying the foundations for his lifelong devotion to womanly
heroines of all descriptions’: Luisa, Violetta, Gilda, Desdemona and
more. Indeed we soon felt the
electricity, as great things were promised by a wonderfully gripping
orchestral opening, with timpani and shivering strings yielding to
piccolo-topped ensemble, pizzicato flute and then woodwind, one after
the other, as the young peasant girl Joan is first seen, assuming a
medium blue cowl as if in imitation of the Virgin to whom she is
praying, cleverly reflected on the side wall and in shadow on the rear
set by the immensely effective Lighting
Designer, Malcolm Rippeth. The three woodwind unite and
an ensuing classic Verdi scherzo gained from a steady brass underlay,
supplied by the ever-reliable Northern Chamber Orchestra. France’s Charles VII, newly
ascended and not yet crowned, cu
Her mortified father makes the
terrible decision to betray Joan to the France’s enemy, the English, a
rough and motley crew rather well portrayed by chorus members led by the
seasoned Graeme Danby, a stalwart of ENO, Scottish Opera, etc., as
Talbot. The father, a wonderful Italian bass or bass-baritone, Devid
Cecconi, who has sung leading baritone roles all across Italy, proved a
glorious find for Buxton: in some ways Cecconi’s performance made the
evening and redoubled the opera’s dramatic impact. His anger, shame
(‘Original sin leads us along a troubled path’), pain and ultimate
repentance were all finely captured; as were the glowering gray skies
that neatly implied France’s near-demise. This was singing worth
travelling to hear. Joan’s endeavours to embrace
and follow God’s will are prompted by a quartet of ‘angels’, here
dressed as nuns, who visit her in her home village of Domrémy (today in
the Vosges département
of north-e
The house in Domrémy-la-Pucelle where Joan of Arc was born and grew
up Australian soprano Kate Ladner
offered a plucky lass, especially well directed, looking the part in her
armour so you could imagine her taking the field. Vocally she had the
necessary punch, just occasionally below the note but more often
dazzlingly on it: but the ensembles had particular weight, and she
flourished in them – especially a superb STB trio for the three main
figures, classic Verdi at his best, supported by a gutsy English chorus
– this chorus could act and produced some memorable scenes and vignettes
- and more subdued French choir.
She knows her Verdi – she has
sung Desdemona, Aida and Violetta, and – tellingly – the high soprano
role in Falstaff (Nanetta). A regular choice for Holland Park, as
well as Massenet’s Manon, she can certainly hit the high notes – and
with character - when she’s required. On the whole well directed by
Elijah Moshinsky, perhaps in a traditional kind of way, she flourished.
Captured by the British, Joan
has given up hope: (‘Pity me, I am no longer the messenger of the Virgin
Mary’). But the libretto has more up its sleeve. Urged to recover from
her near-death-swoon, and forswearing her love for the King to purify
herself, she pluckily pulls herself together and takes to the field one
last time; but in victory dies a soldier’s death. No fiery stakes to
excite a clever designer and lights designer: it all feels a bit of a
swizz. Yet somehow it works. The
final entry of Joan on a bier, the weeping crowned King in attendance,
makes way for her abjuring her role where groaning violas lend a special
feeling of pathos. Her father no longer sees himself as ‘the thunderbolt
of God’s anger’ (instead: ‘My daughter was my only hope’). With cello
support she sings ‘May heaven’s will be done’. The big build-up towards the
end – certainly shades here of the mature Verdi – set the seal on Stuart
Stratford’s predictably adept conducting of this, as Stephen Barlow
rightly predicted, endlessly interesting score. Well worth its revival,
Giovanna d’Arco was surely one of Buxton’s most admirable
successes. To 24-07-15 Roderic Dunnett
07-15
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ensembles, in sundry out of the way Birmingham venues with Graham Vick’s
deliciously wacky and unpredictable Birmingham Opera Company. 
across the eras. Thus in one
season (1985) it presented a work by Niccolo Piccinni, La buona
figliuola; Il filosofo di campagna by Baldassare Galuppi; and
Don Quixote by their older contemporary Francesco Conti. 
ts a sorry figure before Joan bolsters
his faith and cheers his spirits. He was sung by tenor Ben Johnson, not
the world’s most creative actor – he could have used a little more help
to unstiffen the young dauphin, now King, from the direction team, but
whose lyric beauty and impressively sustained long lines did ample
justice to Verdi’s quite taxing writing. Johnson’s is a lovely voice,
his sequence of quite long arias tenderly delivered from start to
finish. 
ast
France: nowadays Domrémy-la-pucelle, its appendage meaning ‘the maid’)
and fire her to action, but also warn her of the dangers that await.
Stirred by them she proclaims ‘I am the warrior maiden who will lead you
to victory’ – a classic opportunity for some rum-ti-tum Verdi - to which
the King (Carlo to her Giovanna) responds ‘God’s flame is in your eyes.’