Although no stranger to Puccini, a work that Antonio Pappano
has resisted conducting until now is the composer’s last opera,
Turandot. However, he has given in to temptation to present an
opulent, gloriously-sung account that has been most certainly
worth the wait.
Sondra Radvanovsky as Princess Turandot
sets out her impressive stall with her opening aria from Act
Two, “In questa reggia”: from the first few imperious bars to
the flashes of anger and pain as she speaks of the horrendous
treatment inflicted upon her ancestor, Lou-Ling, it’s a nuanced
performance that brings sympathy and depth to a potentially
inscrutable character.
As Calaf, the Unknown Prince who
attempts to win Turandot’s hand (thereby risking his own death
if he fails to answer her three riddles), Jonas Kaufmann offers
plenty of subtlety and shading, from his comforting tone in “Non
piangere, Liù” to the ardent self-confidence of the riddle
scene, and finally Act Three’s “Nessun dorma”, with a
magnificently ringing high B at its climax. The build-up to this
latter aria is spellbindingly done by Pappano and the Santa
Cecilia orchestra, restlessly surging amid the distant calls of
the heralds (commandingly sung by the chorus tenors), announcing
that “none shall sleep” until the name of the mysterious prince
has been discovered.
The rest of the cast are uniformly
superb also, not least Ermonela Jaho as Liù, touching in her
concern for Calaf in “Signore, ascolta!” and heartbreaking in
“Tu che di gel sei cinta”, plus the jolly stylings of Ping,
Pang, and Pong in the opening scene of Act Two, where their
darkly comic interactions as they remark upon how many would-be
suitors to Turandot have been executed are placed against
passages of tender wistfulness as they reminisce about the
simplicity of their lives before Turandot came along.
The
subsequent shift into the second scene of Act Two is splendidly
done, with pomp from the brass and an ecstatic paean from the
chorus as they proclaim their hope that the Emperor may reign
for ten thousand more years. For all the rousing singing on
display, I should not neglect the contribution from the Santa
Cecilia orchestra and moreover the guiding hand of Pappano: his
pacing is spot-on throughout, bringing a majestic sweep to the
end of Act One whilst allowing the more reflective moments the
space to breathe.
Speaking of Emperor Altoum, the luxury,
if somewhat unexpected, casting of Michael Spyres in the role
works brilliantly: as demonstrated by albums such as Baritenor.
and the forthcoming Contra-Tenor, Spyres is a true vocal
chameleon, able to adapt his performance to the needs of the
part. Here he complements and yet contrasts with Kaufmann’s
timbre so that you’re never in doubt as to which tenor you are
listening to at any given point.
As if all of that
weren’t enough, Pappano has one further ace up his sleeve.
Turandot was actually left unfinished by Puccini, with the final
duet between Turandot and Calaf largely existing only as
sketches. The task of completing the opera fell to Franco Alfano
and, although there have been other attempts since then (most
notably by Luciano Berio in 2001), it is his ending that is
performed 99% of the time. However, Alfano’s original submission
was heavily criticised by both Puccini’s publisher, Ricordi and
conductor Arturo Toscanini, with the latter insisting that about
five minutes be cut out, and it is this shorter version that is
normally heard today.
For this recording, Pappano has
reinstated Alfano’s original completion, and it makes for quite
a different experience. It has been suggested that the reason
Puccini had difficulty finishing the work was that he could not
find a satisfactory way to reconcile the abrupt shift from the
tragedy of Liù’s death to the impassioned ardour of the love
duet. Although Alfano’s first attempt is far from perfect and
undoubtedly still problematic, by extending several passages
considerably it makes for a smoother change in Turandot’s
emotions as she eventually submits to Calaf’s declarations of
love. Furthermore, while I don’t wish to spoil all the surprises
for people who haven’t heard this version before, suffice it to
say that the very end of the opera, with more extended
contributions from soloists, chorus, and blazing trumpets, makes
for an utterly thrilling conclusion, and it’s wonderful to have
this version available in such a marvellous recording.