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Al-Ahram Weekly 10 - 16 February 2000 Issue No. 468 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 10 - 16 February 2000 Issue No. 468
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Features Focus Profile Travel Books Sports People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters No tweety-birds tonight
By David Blake
Donizetti's L'Elisir d'Amore, Abdalla Saad (Director), David Crescenzi (Conductor), Aldo Magnato (Chorus Master), Vera Bertinetti (Art Director), Cairo Opera House, Main Hall, 5,6,9,10,13,14 February
L'Elisir d'Amore is a strange opera. Our century is patriarchal, L'Elisir was matriarchal. Dates show that Donizetti and the 19th century were hurrying towards music-drama and leaving the tweeties behind to trill in the bathtub, if indeed they took baths in those days. It had been diva time but L'Elisir is not a diva opera in the manner of Norma, Lucia or Traviata.
This one, L'Elisir, is a prima donna opera, something new when it was written in 1848. Divas are now extinct but the prima donna, under pressure from the media and technology, is putting up a good fight.
Good luck for Cairo, it now has two prima donnas, Dalia Farouk and Amira Selim -- both sing the L'Elisir at different performances. Their vocal powers reveal these two as baby divas -- they both have great agility and extremely accurate techniques. Both are tall, though Selim has the edge here, she's slightly taller and sings higher than Farouk, who has the greater power and authority. Each has her own camp-following. In the middle of this mêlée is a sturdy, hard working Cairo Opera singer, Mona Rafla, who performs the role of Adina on February 13.
The role used to be the property of Sutherland and Mirella Freni, so the two baby divas are treading deep water. They are both young, but caution is about the only thing to warn them against. They are well-equipped to venture alone into the battle-torn operatic jungle.
New voices come and go. The story is the oldest one in the book -- get the agent, do the stint, get the name and the money and then the voice is finished. There is nothing left but to join the herd of wobbling, tarnished voice merchandise. No record company records tired young voices.
The singers of the Cairo Opera are fortunate to be part of this production -- the best the Cairo Opera has seen in years. It avoids the kind of gimmicks, tricks or upfront frolics which end in tedium. Notes and music come first and both are respected. The thin story, painfully trite, is treated tactfully. It makes a sort of sense even though this opera was created at a time when interest in it was running out. Verdi's sun was rising to scorch out the divas of Rossini and Donizetti. They knew it -- so L'Elisir compromises. It is not a dinosaur show or a tweety-bird display. It is an ironic comedy of manners which, however hard, brutal and unflattering on the working classes of the time, makes a light evening's entertainment.
The two acts have splits -- scenes added -- but in all the décor works wonders. It opens with an Umbrian garden scene observed obliquely and the tone is set for the evening. The costumes are quite up to standard and in the second act the production suggests the genuine nuance of different levels in society flung together by the stupid activities of the characters.
Adina, the heroine, is rich and her home looks it. It is not a glassy palace of aluminium but a well planted version of Italian gentle country living. The plot is so silly it doesn't matter. Love potion, Adina's fixation on Tristan and Isolde, are strange inclusions in this pastoral world and by the end of the mish-mash, when she enters gently making fun of her mentally ill-equipped future spouse it all fits together because of the production's wit and sense of form. We are half in or out of where the dinosaurs go to die. It's funny and even has sparkle, very rare on the Cairo Opera stage.
Cast are on top form. Dalia Farouk, saying everything with clarity, power and everything spot centre, in tune and without a shriek or quiver. Her acting was tactful. She made the last scene -- her absurd man, a Parsifalian perfect fool clutching his huge bottle of love potion, which of course is rubbish -- into something almost convincing. She loved him, and her acting was strong enough to suggest this.
The Italian import for this lovable donkey was Corrado Amici, with a good, sturdy lyric voice. He sang 'una furtiva lagrima' in good manner, and that is enough for any Nemorino.
Dulcamarra was Shakespearean. Reda El-Wakil was lofty, majestic, nicely crooked and, in the end, a little like a character out of Chekov. The voice was burnished. Belcore, Hossam Mustafa, was the surprise of the performance. Never before has he sung with such authority, even though once or twice the voice was hoarse. He made a real character out of the bluster and bully of the man but was never a loud monster. Giannetta was no stupid girl but swept about like a gentle person a bit out of her depth. Notaro, Tamer Tawfik, as always left his mark.
The Cairo Opera Orchestra, under conductor David Crescenzi, gave, as it so often does, a display of speed and power. At times Crescenzi really let it out too forcefully, but since this was a right night it never went coarse or tuneless.
The Cairo Opera Ballet was given its spot. How hateful operatic composers found this bit of cream, mostly added to their works for the Paris productions. This ballet was choreographed with the knowledge of its special requirements and the costumes were moonlit. A small dream making its entrance into this crazy circus.
The show is so good it will be a pleasure to see what the other Cairo baby diva will make of it. At the climax of the first act, at the magician Dulcamarra's entry, we were given an outstandingly well-behaved pair of scrubbed and continent Cairo street donkeys. They brought this lovable show to an end.
The Cairo Opera deserves gratitude for showing that some things can be done right.
