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From Broadway with Love Milano
Teatro alla Scala
10/17/2025 - & October 24, 29, 31, November 4*, 7, 2025
Gaetano Donizetti : La Fille du régiment
Julie Fuchs (Marie), Juan Diego Flórez (Tonio), Géraldine Chauvet (La Marquise de Berkenfield), Pietro Spagnoli (Sulpice), Barbara Frittoli (La Duchesse de Crackentorp), Pierre Doyen (Hortensius), Emidio Guidotti (Un caporal), Federico Vazzola (Un notaire), Aldo Sartori (Un paysan)
Coro del Teatro alla Scala, Alberto Malazzi (chorus master), Orchestra del Teatro alla Scala, Evelino Pidò (conductor)
Laurent Pelly (stage director & costumes), Christian Rath (reprisal staging), Chantal Thomas (sets), Joël Adam (lighting), Laura Scozzi (choreography), Karine Girard (reprisal choreography), Agathe Mélinand (dialogues)
J. D. Florez, J. Fuchs, P. Spagnoli
(© Brescia e Amisano/Teatro alla Scala)
Arguably the weakest opera of Donizetti’s mature period, La Fille du régiment (1840) is bereft of the comedic and musical brilliance of his comedies L’elisir d’amore (1832) and Don Pasquale (1843). Poorly received by critics – including Berlioz – at its Paris premiere, the work did however enjoy measured success thanks to various sopranos in the title role of Marie, including Jenny Lind (1820‑1877), Henriette Sontag (1806‑1854), Adelina Patti (1843‑1919), Marcella Sembrich (1858‑1935), Luisa Tetrazzini (1871‑1940) and Frieda Hempel (1885‑1955). During WWII, the MET revived La Fille du régiment for French coloratura Lily Pons (1898‑1976) in solidarity with German-occupied France (think the patriotic soprano aria, “Salut à la France”). In the sixties and seventies, it was a vehicle for coloraturas Beverly Sills (1929‑2007) and Joan Sutherland (1926‑2010).
Following revivals with Sutherland with the likes of Alfredo Kraus (1929‑1999) and especially Luciano Pavarotti (1935‑2007), the focus of the opera shifted to the opera’s tenor role, Tonio, due to Act I’s “Ah mes amis ! Quel jour de fête”, considered the Everest for tenors, with its demanding cabaletta “Pour mon âme” and its string of eight high Cs. A ninth, unwritten high C is sometimes added, and more recently extraverted tenors have performed the aria with eighteen high Cs! This aria is the reason for opera’s present day popularity.
To justify such a lightweight work, the right tenor must be secured. Peru’s Juan Diego Flórez is today’s primo coloratura tenor, and I’ve enjoyed his performances in such Rossini works as Ermione in Pesaro in 2024. Two years ago, at the opening recital of La Scala’s season, Flórez generously gave a dozen encores that included the aria from La Fille du régiment, the demanding aria “Ah mes amis ! Quel jour de fête” with its monumental nine high Cs. He was able to hit them all with astounding ease. Despite his youthful good looks, Flórez is fifty‑two. The secret to his longevity is a solid technique and his avoidance of heavier roles.
In 2007, when he sang this role at La Scala in this same production, the public’s enthusiasm was so pronounced that the house rule imposed in 1928 by Toscanini was dispensed with, so Flórez was free to offer La Scala’s first bis in seventy‑four years.
In addition to his masterful technique, beautiful timbre and good looks, Flórez is a fine actor, credible as a sweetly naive Tyrolean country boy. He repeated his bravura in the famous Act I aria and its ringing high Cs. This was the expected highlight of the evening and indeed, it brought the house down.
Though this opera has become known as a tenor vehicle since Pavarotti lent it his imprimatur, French light lyric soprano Julie Fuchs was the star of the show. Her fresh voice and natural acting made her a sweet and credible Marie. This was quite a feat, as this staging was conceived sur mesure for the now‑retired Natalie Dessay. Pelly’s staging was meant to favour Dessay’s antics as a device to distract from her vocal shortcomings. Pelly’s conception of Marie is that of a short‑tempered spoiled child, incompatible with a hard‑working vivandière, which may make her a curiosity for the Tyrolean country bumpkin Tonio, but not an object of deep affection.
Mercifully, Fuchs managed to make this irascible Marie likeable thanks to her naturally appealing style. For French speakers, Agathe Mélinand’s updated dialogue was truly painful, and the forced humour fell flat. Those not speaking the language of Molière may have attributed the lack of comedy to the translation, but alas, there was no levity in the dialogue to start with, only lame attempts at being hip. Nonetheless, Fuchs was a breath of fresh air in this heavy‑handed affair.
Recentlyadmired as Susanna in Le nozze di Figaro in Munich, Fuchs is an accomplished singing actor with exceptional charisma and commendable skills. Endowed with a beautifully warm timbre, her rendition of Act I’s “Il faut partir” was not just a showpiece for coloratura, but a moving expression of a tender, simple young woman. From the same act, “Chacun le sait” was impressive for its impeccable technique and charm.
Bass Pietro Spagnoli was an ideal choice for the role of Sulpice. Equipped with natural comedic verve, he’s a master of timing, the key to comedy. Recently admired in Pesaro in the ROF production of La cambiale di matrimonio, Spagnoli had great chemistry with Fuchs. Unlike many buffo basses, this refined singer understood his role to be a supporting one, and not to attempt being the centre of attention. Moreover, his French diction was impeccable, a rarity among Italians. Thanks to his great chemistry with Fuchs, the duet “Rataplan, rataplan” was a high point of the evening.
Conductor Evelino Pidò is a bel canto specialist with a strong affinity for this repertoire, as he demonstrated in La Scala’s Don Pasquale in 2024. Under his agile baton, the orchestra plays this modest music elegantly and lightly, emphasizing precise phrasing and emphasizing melodic lines. Save for the delicate prayer “Sainte Madone,” the chorus of La Scala sounded oddly morose in the first act, but thankfully came to life in Act II.
Pelly chose to move the action from the Napoleonic Wars to WWI. No particular reason for this change is apparent. Could it have been due to his taste for the costumes of the era? Perhaps yes, as they were in fact designed by Pelly, and they were indeed appealing, especially in Act II. The other reason for the change was the surprise grand finale, with brave Tonio atop a cannon, followed by other soldiers in the regiment, disrupting Marie’s wedding with the Duc Scipion de Crackentorp.
The opening of Act II was rather amusing: four maids – almost certainly men in drag – at the Berkenfield castle were vigorously cleaning, in a manner that followed the staccato beat of the opening music, evoking an old fashioned gavotte. Alas, it went downhill from there, as the Duchess de Crackentorp made her entry. Unsurprisingly, Barbara Frittoli was an imposing aristocrat. The Italian lyric soprano has a beautiful aura and immense stage charisma. However, the Duchess is supposed to be a despicable old hag, not a stunning vision. In her late fifties, Frittoli is too young for this role, and it’s frankly surprising that she even accepted it. Alas, Frittoli’s French diction was one of the worst I’ve ever heard. It’s hard to understand why a non‑singing role would be given to a famous soprano lacking French to this dire degree; much of her banter was indecipherable.
Chantal Thomas’ sets for Act I were basically panels of maps and period postcards. For those with a minimum of historical and geographical knowledge, the maps were a stern reminder that the French were nowhere near the Tyrol in WWI. Sadly, for the vast majority, history and geography are arcane concepts.
Fortunately, the other two mostly non-singing roles were better cast. Young French mezzo Géraldine Chauvet was a fabulous Marquise de Berkenfield, convincing in her portrayal of a confused aristocrat. I doubt anyone would believe her actual age. Not only was her makeup excellent, but her posture and demeanor convinced us she was an elderly woman. Moreover, her acting was magnificent. Alas, de Berkenfield had little to sing, but when she did, particularly in the lesson scene with Marie, she did not disappoint. Equally brilliant was Belgian baritone Pierre Doyon, in the non‑singing role of Hortensius. Actor Federico Vazzola was the notary, who unfortunately spoke the same incomprehensible French as Frittoli.
One could not help noticing a certain mauvais gout throughout this production. Whenever there were dance movements, whether the Tyrolean villagers in Act I, or the three lead singers in the Act II trio, “Tous les trois réunis”, it was Broadway in “all its glory”. The aforementioned was clearly plagiarized from the exact dance performed by Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor in Singin’ in the Rain (1952).
French director Laurent Pelly is a “hit or miss” stage director, though more often it’s the latter. It’s hard to understand how someone who conceived the stupendous Madrid production of Il turco in Italia could dream up with such a vapid production as this. The blame cannot solely be put on the work’s triviality. Other productions of this same opera, such as Damiano Michieletto’s for Munich this summer, proved that in the hands of a brilliant director, it can be a moving – even powerful – work. With La Scala’s mostly exceptional cast, one could only settle for vocal delight.
Ossama el Naggar
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