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The Vengeful Father and the Forgiving Husband Piacenza
Teatro Municipale
12/17/2025 - & December 19, 21, 2025
Giuseppe Verdi: Stiffelio
Gregory Kunde (Stiffelio), Lidia Fridman (Lina), Vladimir Stoyanov (Stankar), Riccardo Rados (Raffaele), Adriano Gramigni (Jorg), Paolo Nevi (Federico), Carlotta Vichi (Dorotea)
Coro della Fondazione Arena di Verona, Roberto Gabbiani (Chorus Master), Orchestra della Fondazione Arena di Verona, Leonardo Sini (Conductor)
Pier Luigi Pizzi (Stage Director & Lighting), Francesco Calcagnini (Sets & Costumes)
G. Kunde, L. Fridman (© Gianni Cravedi)
While at least six of Verdi’s operas are universally acclaimed, much of his earlier output is generally spotty. Some, such as Oberto (1839), Un giorno di regno (1840) and Alzira (1845) are completely forgettable, but two, Ernani (1844) and Macbeth (1847), are masterpieces. Composed between Luisa Miller (1849) and his huge success Rigoletto (1851), Stiffelio (1850) is from the composer’s middle period. Despite some beautiful arias and several memorable scenes, it compares unfavourably with the master’s other works of the period. The problem is the libretto, based on a mercifully forgotten French play Le Pasteur, ou l’Evangile et le Foyer (1849). It was Francesco Maria Piave (1810‑1876), author of the libretti of Verdi’s Ernani (1844), I due Foscari (1844), Attila (1846), Macbeth (1847), Il corsaro (1848), Stiffelio (1850), Rigoletto (1851), La traviata (1853), Simon Boccanegra (1857), Aroldo (1857) and La forza del destino (1862), who unfortunately recommended the French play.
The play’s subject, infidelity and the choice of the betrayed to either seek vengeance or grant forgiveness, was an innovative, realistic and valid one. The problem was the unlikely setting: a Protestant community near Salzburg, Austria. Firstly, it’s an overwhelmingly Catholic town, and secondly, the public in (also Catholic) Trieste, where the opera was premiered, could not identify with the title role, a Protestant preacher. As the subject of religion was taboo on stage, the censor demanded changes that further weakened the opera and contributed to its lack of success.
The plot involves Stiffelio, a preacher who returns to his community from a mission. He learns from the castle’s boatman that he witnessed a man jump from the balcony of an unidentified woman’s room of Count Stankar’s castle, where the preacher resides with his wife Lina, the Count’s daughter. While jumping, the culprit dropped his wallet, which in turn was given to the preacher. Stiffelio refuses to know the identity of the culprit and burns the wallet and its contents. Lina is relieved, as she is the unfaithful woman from whose bedroom the unknown man, Count Raffaele, had jumped.
Count Stankar witnesses his guilt-ridden daughter write a confession to her husband. He rebukes her and demands that she keep silent. Count Raffaele and Lina had agreed to exchange messages inside a locked copy of Klopstock’s Messiah in the library. Stiffelio plans to read from that book during his sermon, but is told Lina has the key. Furiously, he breaks the lock to find a letter which Count Stankar abruptly destroys before Stiffelio can read it.
In Act II, Lina visits her mother’s grave to pray for forgiveness. Count Raffaele has followed her, as has her father. When Count Stankar challenges Raffaele to a duel, Stiffelio intervenes to prevent bloodshed. Stankar reveals that Raffaele and Lina are the unknown adulterers. An enraged Stiffelio is prevented from acting as he’s summoned to church to deliver a sermon. As he swears revenge, his old mentor Jorg reminds him that Christ forgave all humanity from the Cross. The act ends with Stiffelio fainting.
In Act III, Raffaele returns to Stankar’s castle. Stiffelio asks him to overhear his conversation with Lina in an adjacent room. Stiffelio offers his wife a divorce, which she reluctantly accepts. Shankar then announces he’s killed Raffaele. The congregation meets at church and Stiffelio opens the bible to a random page, hoping that God will guide him in his sermon. He happens to land on the story of the adulterous woman. After reading that Christ forgave her, he in turn forgives his wife.
Though this opera failed twice, first as Stiffelio and seven years later as the reworked Aroldo, it can be a compelling work given the right cast and director. Happily, this was the case here. Given that its principal weakness is the libretto, it took an astute director with fresh ideas to render it interesting. Firstly, his aesthetically pleasing sets were decidedly unlike other productions, which, given the Protestant preacher, made the sets as austere as Jean Calvin’s Geneva. In Act I, the inside of Stankar’s castle was elegant enough for a nobleman. Best of all was the graveyard scene, where the remorseful Lina prays by her mother’s grave. It was Roman in its inspiration, as opposed to a place of austere sorrow. Pizzi’s trademark use of white and gray sets was the only sparse element, but in context, it was both pleasing and appropriate.
In addition to the excellent staging, the cast could not have been better. In two months, American tenor Gregory Kunde will turn seventy‑two. Despite his venerable age, he was in top shape. Heard recently as Cavaradossi in Tosca in Rome, this tenor is a vocal phenomenon. He is the only performer known to have sung both Rossini and Verdi’s Otello, the former requiring a light coloratura tenor and the latter a dramatic one. In addition to an impressive voice and easy high notes, Kunde managed to convey the dignity of the role, the internalized rage of this man of the cloth, and finally his magnanimity. Indeed, it is both the dramatic and vocal demands that make the role a favourite of aging tenors. When this rare opera is mounted, it’s often as a vehicle for a star tenor, usually en fin de carrière, as was the case for Mario del Monaco, José Carreras and Plácido Domingo.
The production drew my attention thanks to Russian soprano Lidia Fridman. I’d discovered her as Lady Macbeth in the French version of Verdi’s opera in Parma. An incandescent singer, the spinto role of Lina, seen by many as a precursor to the two Leonoras (Il trovatore, La forza del destino), perfectly suits Fridman. Endowed with a beautiful dark timbre, ease in the upper register, perfect diction and superlative technique, she is one singer I never tire of hearing. Her Act I aria, the prayer “A te ascenda, o Dio clemente” was delightfully moving, managing to convey Lina’s torment and guilt. Her passionate Act II scene “Ah, dagli scanni eterei”, a typical bel canto piece, was stylistically dazzling. Add to that Fridman’s charisma and you have the complete package; she’s simply riveting.
Now in his early sixties, veteran Bulgarian baritone Vladimir Stoyanov is still at the height of his powers, unfailingly elegant and with a powerful stage presence. Admired a year ago in the same role in Verona and in 2024 in La battaglia di Legnano at Parma’s Verdi Festival, Stoyanov expertly portrayed Count Stankar. It’s notable that Stiffelio is one of three consecutive operas by Verdi where the father-daughter relationship is pivotal (the other two are Luisa Miller and Rigoletto). His Act III aria, “Lina, pensai che un angelo,” in which he reproaches his daughter for her marital disloyalty, was both moving and dignified. Stoyanov managed to portray Stankar as a harsh man, both as father and nobleman, contrasting with the truly dignified and forgiving Stiffelio.
The supporting roles were adequately sung. Insufficiently developed, they do not present much challenge. Even Lina’s lover, Count Raffaele, is not really substantial despite his importance in the plot.
By far the weakest musical part is its opening overture, replete with the um‑pa‑pa beat Verdi favoured in his earlier days but mercifully abandoned mid‑career. Though he had accentuated the reprehensible beat a year earlier in Verona, conductor Leonardo Sini adopted a sober beat this time. After the first scene, the music mercifully improves, though it remains variable throughout. Often evoking Donizetti-inspired early Verdi, there are also moments of grace foreshadowing the superior style of his middle period. In the pivotal and most demanding scenes, Sini provided support for his singers by adopting appropriate tempi.
In addition to being a beautiful and historically rich town, Piacenza is truly amazing as far as opera goes. With a population of about 100,000, it has an opera season that would be the envy of cities ten times larger. Its 2025‑2026 features seven works, including this, the rarely performed Stiffelio, Don Giovanni, L’Italiana in Algeri, Carmen, La bohème, Lohengrin and a world premiere, Davide Tramontano’s Cronaca di un amore, Callas e Pasolini.
Each opera is performed three times, including an avant-premiere in the city’s 1804 opera house, Teatro Municipale, which has a capacity of 1,120. Performances invariably sell out, which is surprising, given the town’s modest population. The success in producing operas in Italian towns this size is in collaborating with similar cities in the same region of Emilia‑Romagna (Ravenna, Modena and Reggio Emilia, and occasionally the Tuscan city of Lucca.) If cities the world over emulated this brilliant model, they too would enjoy such rarities as Stiffelio.
Despite its relative weakness, it’s still a rare and worthwhile experience for lovers of Verdi to experience one of his more obscure works, especially when supported by a strong cast and in a staging as appealing as Pizzi’s. It’s heartwarming that despite his advanced age of ninety‑five, the master director still thrives, so committed is he to his stagings. May his work continue to grace these charming venues, pleasing these very appreciative Italian audiences.
Ossama el Naggar
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