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Che bel sogno! London
Barbican Hall
12/05/2025 -
Giacomo Puccini: La rondine
Ermonela Jaho (Magda), Iván Ayón‑Rivas (Ruggero Lastouc), Nicola Alaimo (Rambaldo Fernandez), Ellie Neate (Lisette), Juan Francisco Gatell (Prunier), Jessica Robinson (Yvette, Georgette, Fleury), Julieth Lozano Rolong (Bianca, Gabriella, Mariette), Joanna Harries (Suzy, Lolette, Rorò), Robert Lewis (Gobin), David Shipley (Périchaud), William Thomas (Crébillon, Il maggiordomo)
BBC Singers, Martin Fitzpatrick (chorus director), BBC Symphony Orchestra, Carlo Rizzi (conductor)
E. Jaho (© BBC Opera Rara/Russell Duncan)
An Opera Rara concert of Puccini’s not‑so‑loved opera at the Barbican Hall proved to be that rara avis, the perfect performance. La rondine had a shaky start in life: it was originally devised for Vienna but war put paid to that idea. Then Puccini’s publisher Ricordi wasn’t interested in it and although its eventual 1917 premiere in Monte‑Carlo was a success, it didn’t lead anywhere. The composer tinkered with it and created a second version that did make to Vienna in 1920, but obviously not satisfied he ploughed on and completed a third version in 1921, eventually performed in Fiume in 1924. Puccini never heard it, and yet again war intervened as the full score was lost in bombing in the 1940s. A few post‑War revivals took place, but then in a strange twist of fate Puccini’s original score turned up in his grand‑daughter’s house where it had lurked for decades (perhaps an indictment of her housekeeping skills) and musicologist Ditlev Rindom has pieced as much together as possible to create a critical edition, which is what Opera Rara performed.
The changes make a great difference to the tale of Magda, the courtesan who has to make a choice: does she continue to take the money from a rich lover or does she regain her moral probity by choosing a genuine but penurious relationship? Act II is particularly expanded with the quartet now joined by a chorus, and ensuring that Prunier remains a tenor (in 1920 he was a baritone) and has more to contribute. The scale is considerably larger. Act III is very different, the soprano and tenor duet is extended, there is an extra scene for three saleswomen, and new duet for soprano and baritone (Magda and Rambaldo). The vocal lines are often higher and the end is more graphic, indeed shocking, as Magda is humiliated by her lover and left with neither lover nor security, comforted only by her maid Lisette. For a work inspired by Viennese operetta, it is pretty bleak.
The performance at the Barbican was a concert that allowed as much cast interaction as possible across the apron of the stage. Entrances and exits followed the drama, the singers moved, touched, danced and emoted, so there was almost as much theatricality as a fully staged version without the potential distraction of a directorial concept. Who created this theatrical framework I have no idea as the programme remains shy on the subject – but, whoever they were, it worked incredibly well and they deserve credit. Conductor Carlo Rizzi was placed in full sight of his orchestra but slightly behind the singers, which betokened much rehearsal. He provided a broad structural framework and also great orchestral detail, and particularly relished the dance rhythms that spring through the opera. The orchestra responded in kind, with seemingly not a duff note all night (and particular credit to harpist Elizabeth Bass who really had her work cut out for her). I noticed that Rizzi led vocal ensembles with necessary rigour but allowed solo singers much scope to mould their own phrases, a difficult balance to pull off.
This was particularly true of his Magda, soprano Ermonela Jaho. I don’t think I have ever heard her on such good form. The voice has a lambent beauty, and, as I’ve often noted in reviews, there is a particularly glowing patch around the F and G at the top of the stave where the sound is incredibly luminous – you feel the voice gently project through you and not just stop in front of you. Jaho is no stranger to operatic suffering and her sensitivity of line is delicious. She spun the first two arching phrases in ‘Che il bel sogno di Doretta’ in one breath, and the piano phrases starting on an A in ‘Ore dolci e divine’ were impeccably placed. And, just as the volume ramps up and one fears she might be overwhelmed, an incredible power emerges – even in the Act II, with orchestra, chorus and fellow soloists at full pelt, she was clearly audible over the surge of sound. For me Jaho is in the successor to Magda Olivero and Raina Kabaivanska, with whom she shares some roles, but with a more glorious tone. Jaho has immense presence, responsive acting skills and, as ever, looked a million dollars in a cloud of spangled red tulle followed by a silvery white for Act III. And who doesn’t love a diva who goes to the bother of changing her earrings between acts. It must all be worth it to hear the audience gasp with delight as you emerge onto the platform.
Tenor Iván Ayón-Rivas proved an excellent Ruggero. Also a strong actor, charming but not soppy, he balanced lyrical sweetness with real squillo, and his voice blended perfectly with Jaho’s. Ellie Neate was a sparkling Lisette, her soprano clear and precise, and she avoided mugging the role and being annoyingly cute – this was a knowing and kind young woman, a well‑rounded assumption. Juan Francisco Gatell was an enjoyably world‑weary poet Prunier, and let’s not forget that the role is actually pretty tricky vocally, not just a character turn, and Gatell was more than up to it. Nicola Alaimo was luxury casting as Rambaldo, and the supporting cast all excellent, right down to the bass of William Thomas, given just a few lines but firmly resonant. A studio recording with the same forces will be released in 2026 and promises much.
Francis Muzzu
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