Aleko/Gianni Schicchi, Grange Park Opera review ★★★★★

The talents of the great Welsh baritone Bryn Terfel are on display in two very different short works at Grange Park Opera this summer. Terfel displays his acting skills as much as his huge voice in both, playing the title roles first in the sombre Aleko, written by a youthful Sergei Rachmaninov in 1892, and then in Gianni Schicchi, the riotous comedy Giacomo Puccini wrote in 1918 and the last opera he completed.

In Aleko, he is the brooding outsider who has run off with a gypsy community because of his love for Zemfira. When she rejects his possessiveness and takes a young lover, he exacts terrible revenge. In the Puccini, pure commedia dell’arte, he is the trickster called in by an old-money Florentine family wanting to change the will of the dead paterfamilias in their favour. They get their come-uppance when Gianni Schicchi gets the better of them.

Ever the showman, Terfel gets to make two great entrances: the gypsy community here is a group of leather-clad punks squatting a fancy flat, and as Aleko he cycles into the living room, clearly the outsider in his workaday clothes.

Bryn Terfel in the title role of Aleko. Photo: Marc Brenner

The in Gianni Schicchi he struts on in red biking leathers (Aleko would have been jealous) sticking his chewing gum on the furniture and horrifying the snooty family. Lounging triumphantly on the sofa at the end, he pops a bottle of champagne to celebrate his success.

Captivating as his performance is, there is more to the evening than just Bryn. Jamaican bass Robert Winslade Anderson, as Zemfira’s father, has a gloriously rich voice well suited to Rachmaninov’s lugubrious Russian sound, echoed in the monastic tones of the chorus. Irish soprano Ailish Tynan is superb as Zemfira, her voice astonishingly clean and clear: as her peril rises, so does her voice.

Zemfira and her lover, sung by the energetic Portuguese tenor Luis Gomes, form a powerful combination, and Gomes shines in both operas. In Gianni Schicchi he pairs up with another fantastic soprano, the New Zealand-born Pasquale Orchard: he plays Rinuccio, the youngest member of the bereaved family, while she is Schicchi’s daughter, Lauretta.

The punk chorus in Aleko. Photo: Marc Brenner

What makes this Puccini opera so special is how the comedy is punctuated by his trademark melodramatic arias, and none come finer that Orchard's wheedling 'O mio babbino caro'. Terfel, as her on-stage father, joins in the audience’s applause, quietly patting her hand in congratulation.

With one-act operas you don’t get a second bite and the visual wit of director Stephen Medcalf’s production makes sure to keep the audience hooked from the start.

The opening of Rachmaninov’s score for Aleko sets the scene of a rural idyll, if a fairly tempestuous one, so it’s a surprise when the curtains part to reveal the punks lounging round in their fancy squat. It’s even more of a surprise when the curtains open for Gianni Schicchi to reveal the same apartment, now smartened up with the pictures straightened on the wall.

Bryn Terfel in the title role of Gianni Schicchi. Photo: Marc Brenner

Medcalf also marshals his forces on stage cannily: for the potentially awkward dance interlude in Aleko, Zemfira’s lover is also the squatter DJ, and he stands at his turntables managing changes of tempo for the dancing punks. In Gianni Schicchi the family are choreographed in stagey tableaux, whispering their asides, aghast at the events before them.

The BBC Concert Orchestra under conductor Gianluca Marciano play wonderfully in both operas. When you think that Rachmaninov dashed Aleko off in just 17 days as a young student, his orchestration is astonishing. It also gives the harp a rare chance to shine, notably when Zemfira and her lover have their fateful rendezvous.

No surprise that the opera won him the Great Gold Medal at the Moscow Conservatory. The Puccini marks a complete change – after that passionate Rachmaninov, I would think the orchestra needs the long supper interval as much as the audience for the change of mood. Puccini’s music work rather well in this comic setting, lightening its intensity, and it does make you wish he had done more comedy.

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Aleko is sung in Russian with English surtitles. Gianni Schicchi is sung in Italian with English surtitles. Further performances are on 20, 23, 26, 29 June and 7 July