NEW YORK—Nobody dies and at the end the characters simply return to their previous lives—can this be a Puccini opera? It is: This story of a woman who escapes from her golden cage to search for true love doesn’t need tragedy and pathos. It is in the lightness of this neglected masterpiece, “La Rondine“ (“The Swallow”) wherein its grace lies.
The Met’s New Year’s Eve production of “La Rondine” can thank its passionate singers and its summer-like stage design for helping us forget the gray winter days and overlook, yes, some similarities to “Die Fledermaus,”—like a maid who borrows her lady’s gown to go to a party where guests disguise their true identities and flirt.
Thanks to Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu, “La Rondine” made a comeback on European stages in the ‘90s. It has been 75 years since it appeared at the Met. Fresh and romantic as can be, director Nicolas Joël sets the story in the ‘20s, featuring fabulous costumes by Franca Squarciapino and a gorgeous art deco setting, reminescent of Klimt, designed by Ezio Frigerio. This staging was co-produced by Theatre du Capitole, Toulouse and the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London.
Moreover, this “Swallow” flies on an April breeze due to the sensitive hands of conductor Marco Armiliato, who brings out the refinement and femininity of the score: Lush melodies paired with parallel chords and atmospheric ambient sounds—sweet and elegant, but never kitschy.
Puccini wrote “La Rondine” after his greatest operas had already made him world famous. It was originally commissioned as an operetta for a Viennese theater and never recovered from that association; it has rarely been taken seriously as an opera. It premiered in Monte Carlo in 1917, as World War I had made its premiere in Vienna impossible.
The Met’s New Year’s Eve production of “La Rondine” can thank its passionate singers and its summer-like stage design for helping us forget the gray winter days and overlook, yes, some similarities to “Die Fledermaus,”—like a maid who borrows her lady’s gown to go to a party where guests disguise their true identities and flirt.
Thanks to Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu, “La Rondine” made a comeback on European stages in the ‘90s. It has been 75 years since it appeared at the Met. Fresh and romantic as can be, director Nicolas Joël sets the story in the ‘20s, featuring fabulous costumes by Franca Squarciapino and a gorgeous art deco setting, reminescent of Klimt, designed by Ezio Frigerio. This staging was co-produced by Theatre du Capitole, Toulouse and the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London.
Moreover, this “Swallow” flies on an April breeze due to the sensitive hands of conductor Marco Armiliato, who brings out the refinement and femininity of the score: Lush melodies paired with parallel chords and atmospheric ambient sounds—sweet and elegant, but never kitschy.
Puccini wrote “La Rondine” after his greatest operas had already made him world famous. It was originally commissioned as an operetta for a Viennese theater and never recovered from that association; it has rarely been taken seriously as an opera. It premiered in Monte Carlo in 1917, as World War I had made its premiere in Vienna impossible.
The Story
Magda lives a luxurious life as the mistress of Rambaldo, a wealthy old gentleman. A glamour girl in her salon, she is adored by the ironic poet Prunier and envied by her giggling, glittery friends.
One scene is enough to characterize Rambaldo: He presents to Magda a precious pearl necklace, saying:” I wanted to give it to you before dinner, darling, but I forgot about it…” Samuel Ramey delivers a short, yet impressive entrance. That the baritone legend’s voice is growing old only helps the fatherly and self-controlled part of Rambaldo.
Later that evening, Magda will change into a floating chiffon dress and go to Bullier’s dance hall—searching for freedom and adventure. Her innocent encounter with Ruggero takes place amidst the noisy pub, a scene that Puccini celebrates as a revival of the Café Momus scene from “La Boheme.” With the powerful choir (kudos to choir-master Donald Palumbo), the opera reaches its melodious climax.
At the end of the romantic night, the exhilarated but bewildered Magda will leave Rambaldo to start a new life with Ruggero. Meanwhile, a woman on the street sings a warning about the ephemeral nature of love.
The tragic misunderstanding between the lovers lies in their different understanding of life and worsens as the starry-eyed Ruggero can’t see who Magda really is. After spending some months together in a Riviera hotel, Ruggero wants to marry Magda and dreams of a idyllic future—children included—in his family’s country home. Magda doesn’t dare reveal the truth about her past to him as she knows it would end their happiness.
The contradiction between their degree of awareness becomes almost unbearable when Ruggero joyfully insists that Magda reads his mother’s letter to him. In it the woman welcomes Magda as her son’s virtuous and loving wife.
This classic, sentimental, Puccini scene precedes Magda’s unavoidable disclosure of her past. In a poignant moment, Magda confesses to Ruggero that she will never be what he expects and dreams her to be, as she can’t deny who she has been. Sadly, with a melancholic sigh, she turns back to her old life with Rambaldo, leaving her lover heartbroken.
Gheorghiu plays Magda, the swallow, as a woman who simply longs to be herself. She is fragile, romantic, fun-loving, and outgoing—a very modern personality. Gheorghiu embodies the part, as actress and singer, with her natural charisma. A warm and alluring soprano, she sings to a charming light and unsophisticated effect, sometimes a bit breathy in the lower register, bringing out the girlish side of the heroine.
Alagna’s Ruggero has his best moments when he enters the stage as the introverted young man full of awe and excitement because he is seeing Paris for the first time. And again, when he meets Magda and during their love duet in Act 2, he warms the heart. Unfortunately, though, sometimes he uses pressure along a phrase and can‘t meet the vocal expectations. He marks the tragic outpouring at the end of the opera much like an average Puccini hero—with a lot of force and pathos. It is a bit too harsh at the end of the otherwise soft opera.
Though the chemistry between the real life couple Alagna and Gheorgiu is perfect, she outshines him with ease.
In top shape, however, was the second tenor of the evening. Marius Brenciu. He was completely one with his part—the cool and ironic “poet” Prunier. His lyric tenor mastered the playful split between the sarcasm and passion that are significant for the stressed intellectual lover of the hyperactive chambermaid Lisette. As his girlfriend who always makes faces at his attempts to transform her into a lady, Lisette Oropesa, with her cheerful, flexible (and sometimes shrill) soprano provided a great comic counterpart to Angela Gheorghiu.
With the spicy entrances of the comic couple, Puccini adds fun and balances the sentiment of the story.
