LF 26: Cosi Fan Tutte

St Mary's Church Haddington 17/9/26

Royal Northern Sinfonia, Chorus of Royal Northern Sinfonia, Dinis Sousa (conductor)

Christina Gansch (soprano), Angela Brower ( mezzo-soprano), Jonas Hacker (tenor), Cody Quattlebaum (baritone), Rebecca Evans (soprano), Neal Davies (bass)

The orchestra and chorus of Royal Northern Sinfonia, under the baton of their music director, Dinis Sousa, were joined by an international cast of 6 principals for what was billed as a concert performance of Mozart’s ‘Cosi fan tutte’ (“all women are thus”, meaning fickle) presented at St Mary’s Church, Haddington on the night of the 17th September. In fact, though without scenery, the production was colourfully fully costumed and well-furnished with props. A platform in front of the orchestra served as a stage. There were legible surtitles with, as far as I could see, good visibility. The overture, one of my favourites, was crisply delivered.

Soldiers Guglielmo and Ferrando are engaged to the sisters Fiordiligi and Dorabella respectively. Their cynical friend Don Alfonso mocks their faith in the constancy of their fiancées and bets that, if they agree to follow his instructions for a day, he can demonstrate to them that all women are inherently fickle, including their sweethearts. They take the bet and go along with the pretence that they have been called up to military service, making tearful farewells. They change into disguises and return as Albanians, each attempting to woo the other’s ‘goddess’ fiancée, initially without success. It looks as if Alfonso will lose his bet. However, the girls’ maid Despina shares his cynicism and they collaborate to tilt the odds. The guys are made to pretend to take poison in despair at the girls’ rejection and, “treated” with Mesmeric quackery by Despina in disguise as doctor, “recover”. Dorabella succumbs; Fiordiligi remains faithful (so women are not all the same, then?). When Ferrando finds out, he is crestfallen and tries harder with Fiordiligi who, racked with guilt, cannot help herself and crumbles too. A sham double wedding is arranged, Despina (in disguise again) notarising the two fake marriage contracts. The return of the army is announced and the “Albanians” scarper, changing back into their own clothes. They return, “discover” the marriage contracts and performatively hit the roof. The subterfuge is revealed and dismantled, and all is forgiven. Technically, Alfonso wins his bet, but his premiss has been debunked too. It took persistent, elaborate and felonious deception and entrapment to achieve a 50% success rate. Naïve idealism may be folly, but cynicism is just plain mean. Humans are fallible. What’s needed with human relationships is mutual understanding and a willingness to forgive.

Austrian soprano Christina Gansch in a long crimson gown was a demure Fiordiligi, steadfast as a rock (‘Come scoglio’, a lovely but demanding aria, was stunning). She holds to her principles as long as she can (The hymnlike ‘Per pietà, ben mio, perdona’ was achingly torn, delivered with exquisite delicacy). But when she finally falls, she falls hard (‘Fra gli amplessi’) into the fake Albanian arms of Ferrando. Fabulous voice and a believable characterisation of a moral person.

American mezzo Angela Brower in a white silvery-sequined full-length gown was the adventurous Dorabella, quickly bored with the tedium of Ferrando’s fake enforced absence (‘Smanie implacabili’ was deliciously petulant) and looking for diversion. Her token resistance to “Albanian” Guglielmo crumbled with the gorgeous duet ‘Il core vi dono’, but even more delightful was confessing her indiscretion to the horrified Fiordiligi with the tripping ‘È amore un ladroncello’.

American tenor Jonas Hacker was a sensitive Ferrando. While it is still credible that Dorabella is faithful, his deceptively challenging aria of admiration ‘Un'aura amorosa’ was radiant and touching. His eloquent but unsuccessful attempt to woo Fiordiligi, ‘Ah, lo veggio’ was agile, expressive and always in control (and kudos to her for resisting: it was powerful). American baritone Cody Quattlebaum was a self-assured and rather cocky Guglielmo. His first attempt at wooing Dorabella, ‘Non siate ritrosi’ was delivered with panache and wit and had me thinking that Mozart would have smashed writing Tinder profiles. Less palatable for modern audiences is ‘Donne mie, la fate a tanti’, directed at the women in the audience, berating them for how their infidelity destroys men. Never mind that it is he himself who seduced Ferrando’s lover and moments later boasts that his ‘success’ with Dorabella and the (as yet) constancy of Fiordiligi are both testament to his virility. A tricky role to carry off: it was done with style. The soldiers’ costumes were cleverly varied: smart casual for civvies, camouflage fatigues for fake departure, outlandish tourist chic for the Albanians.

Fabulous Welsh soprano Rebecca Evans was a wily Despina, dismissive of pretentious performative morality. Even before suborned to Alfonso’s plot, she pours scorn on the idea of fidelity to soldiers away on campaign – hardly famed for fidelity themselves: ‘In uomini, in soldati, sperare fedeltà?’ was playful and archly suggestive. Less subtle and very much batting for Team Alfonso was the waltzlike ‘Una donna a quindici anni’, encouraging them to wise up and grab the chance for a good time. So good, it was reprised. Her costumes and props as skivvy, doctor and notary added to the comedy. Superb.

Welsh bass Neal Davies brought dark controlled power to the role of Don Alfonso. There was a hint of menace in his scorn for the naivety of the soldiers betting on the fidelity of women: ‘Oh, poverini, per femmina giocare cento zecchini?’. He gets to sing the dismissive slogan quoted in the overture: ‘Così fan tutte’. But it’s not all dark scheming cynicism. The trio wishing gentle breezes to the soldiers’ departing ship (that they are not actually aboard) may be fake but it is one of the most beautiful things that Mozart wrote. With the girls, Alfonso sang ‘Soave sia il vento’ with gorgeous muted strings in the background. It was exquisite.

There were other goodies worth mentioning. The farewell quintet (all soloists except Despina) for the soldiers’ “departure”, ‘Sento, o Dio, che questo piede è restio’ was very lovely. The 2 sextets at the ends of the acts are beautifully crafted and received a spirited rendition. The chorus numbers, praising the life of a soldier, sounded great in the acoustic of St Mary’s.

I used to feel that ‘Cosi fan tutte’ is a silly libretto with beautiful music. My love for the music is undiminished but I no longer think that the libretto is silly. It takes aim at delusions and idealised fantasies and doesn’t miss. That’s praiseworthy in my book. But it also states something else, not overtly but implied: that to risk shattering lives in order to shatter illusions is wrong. Amen to that. This production let me see that clearly: ‘Cosi fan tutte’ is not callous.