Farnace (review)

Antonio Vivaldi had already written thirty-four operas by the time Farnace was given its first performance in 1727 in Venice. Each act in this Madrid performance is preceded by material from another Farnace by the French composer François Courcelle (known in Italy as Corselli), premiered in 1739 for the wedding of Don Felipe de Borbón, the Spanish Infante. Vivaldi's work was resurrected for a 2001 Madrid performance, but the results, as heard here, have not been worth the effort.

The piece's dramatic content centers on the title character, King of Pontus. (Remember Mozart's Mitridate, re di Ponto? Mitridate is Farnace's father.) He longs to avenge himself on the Roman proconsul Pompey, who has forced him from Pontus. He insists that his wife kill herself and their son to avoid submitting themselves to defeat at the hands of Pompey. Farnace reckons without the Cappadocian queen Berenice, his mother-in-law, who loathes him and is in cahoots with Pompey to kill Farnace. The dramatis personae also include Tamiri, Farnace's noble wife; and Selinda, Farnace's sister, who's been apprehended by Aquilius, the Roman prefect, and is balancing his interest in her with that of Gilade, Berenice's captain. Things turn increasingly complicated, with Pompey eventually persuading the nasty Berenice to make up her differences with Farnace (her instantaneous turnaround is singularly unconvincing, but then, so are most of the emotions of this work).

With the exception of a single duet, a quartet, and three brief choruses, the individual numbers are all arias. Alas, few of them stay in the mind, although they are by turns delicate, graceful, and incisive. Typical, however, is the buoyancy of the accompaniment to Farnace's "Gelida in ogni vena," which may be charming but is in no way indicative of the moment, dramatically speaking. Most interesting in the first act is Aquilio's "Penso che que' bel'occhi," where there are unexpected turns within the line and a certain ranginess, with numerous opportunities for shading (not taken advantage of by the artist in the recording, alas); and Pompeo's "Sorge l'irato nembo," which works its excitement through extremes of range and contrasts such as sustained arpeggiated notes followed by rapid descending scales. Berenice's vengeance aria, "Da quel ferro," would only work in the biting tones of a soprano capable of, say, fiery Elettra in Idomeneo.

Act 2 brings Selinda's dainty, lilting "Lascia di sospirar" and Farnace's "Spogli pur l'ingiusta Roma," where Vivaldi communicates some real tension and creates some interesting fioriture. This is perhaps, from a singer's point of view, the opera's most challenging aria. Too often the music for Farnace and Pompeo is insufficiently differentiated in terms of character.

The march that opens act 3 is by Corselli, but it certainly draws no undue attention to itself stylistically. Typical of this work is the jollity of Berenice's "Quel candido fiore," deeply inappropriate for her feelings at that moment. Tamiri's "Forse o caro," a reasonably lovely andante, is no match for any Handelian equivalent, whether in Alcina, Ariodante, or Orlando. The highlight of the act, and indeed of the whole opera, is Gilade's "Scherza l'aura lusinghiera," a delicious piece utilizing all sorts of inventive staccato passages and fioriture—a piece Cecilia Bartoli, given her proven affinity for Vivaldi, should record immediately.

The Vivaldi discography includes precious few outstanding performances of the operas. Certainly the current operatic scene can easily summon the appropriate vocal and orchestral resources for these works, but that has hardly been reflected on disc. Admittedly, the musical and dramatic rewards offered to performers of the Vivaldi stage works rarely compare to Monteverdi or...