Il Giasone by Francesco Cavalli (review)

Giasone (Jason of Greek mythology) writhes in a bed with white sheets, his clearly naked lower half barely covered by them, and as he sings of the delights of love, a dozen hands reach through holes in the mattress to caress him. This is how we are introduced to the title character of Francesco Cavalli’s 1649 opera—one of the great operatic successes of the seventeenth century—in this 2010 production from Antwerp’s Vlaamse Opera. And although Giasone’s opening aria in the production is perhaps its most iconic moment—it is also used as the image on the DVD cover—it is not its only memorable or evocative one. Set and costume designer Julia Hansen imagines Hercules as a pointy-eared Pan in a football uniform, replete with a ram head for a helmet and a red “G” for “Giasone” emblazoned on his jersey. Medea’s aged nurse, Delfa, is a drag queen, the tired floral pattern of her suit jacket repeated in thick makeup over her face. Makeup turns Demo, a stuttering comic role, into an amalgamation of rabbit and human, a transformation that suits his buffo antics and slyly undermines the opera’s frequently serious treatment of the erotic. When Medea appears at the end of Act Three, having nearly drowned and ready to wreak vengeance on Jason, she does so in a dress that looks like the armor of Athena in Gustav Klimt’s famous painting. All this to say that Julia Hansen’s imagination gives the viewer much to react to.

The singing is generally convincing, with countertenor Christophe Dumaux and Robin Johannsen turning in particularly strong performances as Giasone and his betrayed former flame, Isifile. Katarina Bradić’s Medea is at its best in the opera’s most dramatic numbers, as during the powerful incantation scene (“Dell’antro magico”) at the end of Act One. Of the comic roles, Filippo Adami’s Demo stands out for accomplishing the buffoonery that the librettist and composer ask of him; if stuttering through all your lines fails to bring down the house as it must have in the mid-seventeenth century, that can hardly be blamed on the production. A recurring problem with the singing, particularly for the countertenors, is that it is occasionally lost under the marvelous orchestra, led by conductor-flutist Federico Maria Sardelli. The wind playing is of such high quality, though, that it is a pleasure to hear it brought to the fore. The videography is full of variety without being distracting, and both color and clarity are striking played from Blu-ray Disc. The English subtitling is good; subtitles are also available in five other languages, including the original Italian. An accompanying booklet provides a historical essay and synopsis as well as brief comments from Alexander Krampe, who revised the score for this performance. The disc also contains a short interview with director Mariame Clément. This Giasone is a welcome addition to the growing number of Cavalli operas available on video, well worth seeing if not perhaps as excellent (and useful, for its hour-long documentary) as the 2006 Harmonia Mundi release of Cavalli’s La Callisto.