Opera Philly's Delightful New
Il viaggio a Reims

The reconstruction of Rossini’s Il viaggio a Reims was one of the late 20th century’s most significant musicological achievements for opera goers. After four performances at Paris’s Théâtre Italian, with a cast headed by Giuditta Pasta, Domenico Donzelli, and Nicolas Levasseur, in celebration of the coronation of the French king Charles X in 1825, Rossini cannibalized the opera’s autograph manuscript and other source material when he composed his next opera, Le Comte d’Ory, leaving behind no coherent version of what became his last Italian opera.

This all was widely reported after the reconstruction prepared by Janet Johnson working with Philip Gossett appeared in the early 1980s. Stagings of Viaggio quickly followed, including one at the Vienna Staatsoper conducted by Claudio Abbado; the opera received its American premiere at the Opera Theatre of Saint Louis in 1986. Yet in recent years it has become something of a rarity, which would not have surprised Rossini. It was conceived from the start as a pezzo d’occasione, rather than an opera designed for widespread performance—which is why Rossini recycled so much of its music for his next work, Le comte d'Ory.

Rossini’s Il viaggio a Reims in an "ebullient" new production by Opera Philadelphia 

Yet without Il viaggio we would be much impoverished, as Opera Philadelphia ebulliently demonstrates in the sparkling new-to-America production that opened on Sept. 19, the launch of countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo’s second season as general director and president. The work’s sheer weirdness is one of its delights. Although Luigi Balocchi’s libretto is partially based on Madame de Staël’s novel Corinne, the plot is scarcely more virtually negligible, even if it begins like an Agatha Christie mystery: A group of aristocrats from different European countries converge at a spa hotel en route to Reims for Charles’s coronation. Catastrophe strikes when no horses can be found for the journey, but disappointment is leavened by the prospect of a celebratory reception in Paris (which can be reached by scheduled stagecoach). Add in a couple of cooked-up romances and an elaborately festive close, and that’s about it. 

No event, however, is too trivial for Rossini’s brilliant, consummate style. In one aria, the Countessa di Folleville sings despairingly over her wardrobe lost in an accident; upon learning that a hat was salvaged, she launches into a joyous cabaletta. The poetess Corinna adds a surreal touch with her lyrical recitations from offstage. And in the Gran pezzo concertate per quattordici voci Rossini works in all 10 main singers and four others besides.

The opera appears in a co-production of the Dutch National Opera, Amsterdam; Royal Danish Opera, Copenhagen; and Opera Australia by Damiano Michieletto, a well-known opera director in Europe. According to Opera Philadelphia, this marks the first time a production by Michieletto has been seen in in the U.S.

Success is mixed.  The décor by Paulo Fantin is attractive, and Carla Teti’s costumes are aptly elaborate. But Michieletto sets the opera in a modern art museum, with the opera’s characters emerging as artistic figures come to life. The idea stems from François Gérard’s epic painting The Coronation of Charles X now in a museum in Chartres. Watching the characters become statuettes once again in a simulation of Gérard’s painting makes for a splendid sight, which intensifies the grandeur of the opera’s finale. Gratuitous silliness is present earlier, however, as personages from unrelated works by Velazquez, Magritte, and others cavort during the opera’s magnificent sextet, attracting laughter and applause that obscured the music. The audience nonetheless enjoyed it.

With so many roles giving an opportunity to shine, the opera is a natural for young singers honing bel canto skills. I’ve seen it performed in St. Petersburg by the Mariinsky Academy of Young Opera Singers and by the young singers academy at the Rossini Festival in Pesaro, where it is done every year. Opera Philadelphia’s production at the Academy of Music in a way follows suit by casting it with highly accomplished young professionals, while drawing on local institutions, such as the Academy of Vocal Arts. Ironically, Brenda Rae, perhaps the cast’s best known member, was not in her best voice at the premiere, and her portrayal of Madama Cortese, the hotel owner, was a little shrewish.

Two other sopranos fared better. Lindsey Reynolds gave a commanding, vocally assured account of the Contessa’s aria that caught much of its tongue-in-cheek humor. Here, however, Michieletto dispensed with her hat and instead had the Contessa rummaging through Madama Cortese’s handbag, apparently to give her something physical to do. Lost in the process was the absurdism of juxtaposing an elaborate musical structure with utterly mundane behavior.  Also excellent was Emilie Kealani, who articulated Corinna’s verses exquisitely and with limpid tone.

Katherine Beck brought a lovely mezzo and polished delivery to the sought-after Polish widow, Marchesa Melibea. Alasdair Kent contributed a charismatic, engagingly sung portrayal of her suitor, Conte di Libenskof. The duet in which they finally confess their love is a highpoint. Another tenor, Minghao Liu, sang with a sweet tone as the Cavaliere Belfiore, smitten by Corinna. Among the low-voiced men, baritone Alex DeSocio sang lustily as Don Alvaro, an unsuccessful suitor of the Marchesa, and Scott Tanner, a splendid Lord Sydney, upheld British honor when intoning God Save the King as the aristocrats sang national songs as a gesture of European unity. A positive aspect of the production’s museum concept came as Ben Brady, another cultivated bass, sang Don Profondo’s aria enumerating the travelers’ possessions as if he were an auctioneer accepting bids, all the while dispensing its patter with aplomb.  

Corrado Rovaris’s expert conducting ensured that every component of this episodic work vitally contributed to the whole. Toward the end, Barone di Trombonok, a German (sagely sung by Daniel Belcher), expresses the travelers’ hopes for a peaceful Europe fueled by harmony. In our troubled times, Il viaggio a Reims has more relevance than one might have thought.

Through Sept. 28

Pictured: Lindsey Reynolds (La Contessa di Folleville) and Minghao Liu (Il Cavaliere Belfiore)

Classical music coverage on Musical America is supported in part by a grant from the Rubin Institute for Music Criticism, the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, and the Ann and Gordon Getty Foundation. Musical America makes all editorial decisions.