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Folie à deux Macerata
Sferisterio Arena
08/01/2025 - & August 7*,10, 2025
Giuseppe Verdi: Macbeth
Roman Burdenko (Macbeth), Simón Orfila (Banco), Marta Torbidoni (Lady Macbeth), Federica Sardella (Dama di Lady Macbeth), Antonio Poli (Macduff), Oronzo d’Urso (Malcolm), Luca Park (Medico)
Coro Lirico Marchigiano “Vincenzo Bellini”, Christian Starinieri (chorus master), FORM-Orchestra Filarmonica Marchigiana, Fabrizio Maria Carminati (conductor)
Emma Dante (stage director), Federico Gagliardi (sets), Carmine Maringola (sets), Vanessa Sannino (costumes), Cristian Zucaro (lighting), Manuela Lo Sicco (choreography)
M. Torbidoni (© Luna Simoncini)
Composed two years after Verdi’s worst opera, Alzira, which Verdi himself described as “Questa è propio brutta,” and the same year as another dud, I masnadieri, a mediocre work that survives only as a vehicle for coloratura sopranos, it’s astonishing that the contemporaneous Macbeth is of such superior quality. Part of the reason for its excellence is that some of its best passages were composed in 1865 for the far superior but rarely-performed French version of the opera. Last autumn’s Verdi Festival in Parma featured an astounding staging of that French version by the late Franco-Lebanese director Pierre Audi.
Premiered in 1847, Macbeth is Verdi’s best opera from his early period, prior to his three middle‑period works Rigoletto (1851), Il trovatore (1853) and La traviata (1853) that established him as the leading opera composer of his time. Based on Shakespeare’s play, it’s one of the most powerful tragedies since those of Ancient Greece. It describes the ambition of a weak man pushed by his ruthless wife and their eventual downfall. The witches, whose soothsaying treacherously incites Macbeth’s ambitions, have the same effect as the intervention of the gods in Greek tragedies. Dramatically, the witches also serve the same function as the chorus in Greek theatre.
A good staging of Macbeth must capture the nature of the relationship between Lady Macbeth and her husband. Italian director Emma Dante is one of my least favourite directors, to the point where I tend to avoid productions she directs, based on my experience with her La Cenerentola in Barcelona and Rusalka in Milan, two fairy tales she managed to render utterly bleak. Her recent production of Verdi’s rarity Giovanna d’Arco in Parma was less noxious, but not insightful either. So imagine my surprise for this Macbeth; Dante’s conception was both intelligent and effective.
Carmine Maringola’s sets were simple yet appealing. Metal bars resembling those surrounding a cemetery were the basis of his sets. Like pieces of Meccano, they could be joined together into more massive structures. Besides the cemetery, other elements too had a death theme: Macbeth’s horse was the skeleton of a stallion. At various pivotal moments, religious images were omnipresent, emphasizing the work as a morality play.
More than any other production of Macbeth, Dante’s staging made choreography a crucial element, which rendered the staging more stylized. The witches were not a small coven but an entire corps de ballet, realistically composed of women of different ages and sizes. At each appearance, a small group of male dancers accompanied them, demons with contraptions that represented huge male sexual organs. They then ferociously copulated with the witches. This was rather de mauvais goût, as Macerata is a popular spot for families, and several minors were among the audience. Other than the frantic fornication, Manuela Lo Sicco’s choreography was quite brilliant as well as innovative. More delectable dances awaited King Duncan’s doomed arrival at Macbeth’s castle. Five tutu‑clad ballerinas – actually men in drag – greeted the king with a mocking dance. Likewise, court jesters performed a sarcastic ballet.
As is often the case, Lady Macbeth’s Act I letter “Nel dì della Vittoria” was read by Macbeth himself, a practice I do not appreciate, as it’s in this parlando passage that Lady Macbeth reveals her true character. Nonetheless, Italian soprano Marta Torbidoni revealed the character’s blood thirstiness in the ensuing aria “Vieni! t’affretta!” and especially its cabaletta “Or tutti sorgete”.
The most powerful original choreography was Dante’s invention of a black Macbeth alter ego who reenacts King Duncan’s assassination as Macbeth is contemplating it in his Act I scene“Mi si affaccia un pugnal?” that Russian baritone Roman Burdenko sang with an appealing timbre and nuanced diction. After several reenactments, Macbeth himself performs the deed. In addition to its originality, this politically-incorrect staging emphasized Macbeth’s tentative, weak character.
The first act ends in the Coro Lirico Marchigiano “Vincenzo Bellini”’s best rendition, “Schiudi, inferno,” calling for the avenging of the murder. The funeral procession and the assassinated King’s final rites are enacted during the chorus. A tableau resembling a fifteenth century painting of the crucifixion and absolution of Christ masterfully ends the act.
Act II opens with an exchange between Lady Macbeth and her husband, “Perchè mi sfuggi,” which reveals the dominant character of Lady Macbeth. In the ensuing aria, “La luce langue”, Torbidoni is still the self‑assured manipulator. Her emphasis on the words “Nuovo delitto! E necessario” was delectable.
The murder of Banco is staged as a terrifying ballet. After a moving rendition by Spanish bass Simón Orfila of Banco’s aria “Studia il passo”, the murderers plunged on him in a stylised but effective choreography. Orfila’s warm timbre did justice to Banco’s noble character.
Act II ends with the pivotal scene that’s often botched by singers and directors alike. Regarding voices, the role of Lady Macbeth calls for a dramatic soprano with a strong lower register. Alternatively, it can be sung by mezzos with ease in the upper register, such as Christa Ludwig, Grace Bumbry, Shirley Verrett, Fiorenza Cossotto and the recently deceased Béatrice Uria‑Monzon, who sang exhilaratingly as Lady Macbeth in Brussels. The banquet scene demands a commanding coloratura in the lines “Di colmi il calice, di vino eletto”, and Torbidoni was certainly up to the task.
In that banquet scene, Macbeth sees the ghost of the freshly-murdered Banco and starts to falter. Using the Meccano-like structures, a high throne is built on which the new usurper king is placed. As he hallucinates, the lateral pieces of the structure are removed, leaving the panicked Macbeth stranded, thus reflecting his state of mind. At the end of the scene, Macbeth’s long blood‑red mantle is removed and donned by Lady Macbeth, indicating her removal of much of the burden from her enfeebled husband.
In Act III, we reencounter the witches, now heavily pregnant from the earlier copulation. The demons help deliver fetuses that are promptly thrown into a cauldron that will eventually produce the terrifying apparitions of Macduff’s offspring that are to rule over Scotland. The fetuses were indeed a gruesome sight, but the idea was novel.
Act III ends with the scene between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, “Vi trovo alfin! Che fate? ... Ancora le streghe interrogai,” which ends with Lady Macbeth’s final lucid words “Ora di morta e di vendetta”, subtly interpreted by Torbidoni who, despite her vengeful incitement, shows signs of fragility.
Fabrizio Maria Carminati brought out the darkness in much of the score, especially in scenes involving Lady Macbeth. One hardly noticed the unpleasant um‑pa‑pa beat that plagues much of early Verdi, a major accomplishment. Carminati, an expert opera conductor, provided support for his singers and adapted the tempi to suit their needs. His support in “Ora di morta” was especially brilliant. By slightly speeding up the tempo, the cracks in Lady Macbeth’s “armour” finally showed.
Act IV opens with the beautiful chorus “Patria oppressa” which was quite somber and less well-executed than the opening chorus. It is followed by Macduff’s moving aria “O figli miei”. Here, Italian tenor Antonio Poli showed that despite the brevity of his role, he had the most beautiful voice of this performance. Heard as a luminous Arrigo in La battaglia di Legnano in Parma’s last edition of its Verdi Festival and as a brilliant Manrico in Il trovatore in Venice three years ago, Poli is a rising star seemingly without limits.
Lady Macbeth’s somnambulism scene, “Una macchia è qui tutt’ora,” is a powerful one. Alas, the staging was far from brilliant for this aria, the opera’s most famous. First we see her as an insomniac seated on one of two beds (hers and Macbeth’s.) More beds are then introduced, each with a small spot of blood that eventually grows into pools. Instead of concentrating on Lady Macbeth’s singing, one is observing a game of moving musical beds that seems near comical. No coup de genie for this pivotal scene.
The final scene is at the battlefield, where Birnam Wood “moves”. This difficult to stage scene was not a complete success, but Macbeth’s final aria “Pietà, rispetto, amore”, was Burdenko’s best, an appropriate pièce de résistance where he was able to convey profound emotion – knowing he’s a weakling in a chess game way over his head. With the death and loss of mind of the chess pawn’s mover, he’s out of his depth. The weaker part of this diabolical duo faces death alone. Despite the evil deeds and machinations, one feels pity for the weak usurper. With Macbeth’s demise, the insatiably greedy power couple are no more.
Ossama el Naggar
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