Wexford Festival: Le Trouvère
National Opera House (O’Reilly Theatre) Wexford 21/10/25
Orchestra and Chorus of Wexford Opera; Marcus Bosch (conductor); Eduardo Niave (tenor); Giorgi Lomiseli (baritone); Lydia Grindatto (soprano); Kseniia Nikolaieva (mezzo-soprano); Luca Gallo (bass); Conor Prendiville (tenor); Jade Phoenix (soprano); Philip Kalmanovitch (baritone); Vladimir Sima (tenor); Conor Cooper (bass-baritone).
This first of ten reports from this year’s Wexford Festival Opera looks at ‘Le Trouvère’, Verdi’s 1853 ‘Il trovatore’, but sung in French (with English surtitles) in the 1856 version prepared by Verdi for the Paris Opera. “Version … for Paris Opera” tends to mean the inclusion of ballet music, and ‘Le Trouvère’ is no exception, but what ballet music – Verdi’s is no mere sop to French sensibilities – it is of the highest quality and placed at the start of Act III after the Soldiers’ Chorus. with appropriate subtle adjustments to the score. There is also additional material, quoting gypsy themes from Act \ii later in the opera, and extending Azucena’s final aria in Act IV. This year’s theme is ‘myths and legends’, the oldest stories, retold in different guises, because they embody the deepest truths about the human condition. In this production, the same melodrama of brutal injustice, obscured identities, rivalry, enmity, war, love and, above all, revenge, is very effectively retold against the backdrop of the Spanish Civil War. Stage direction is by Ben Barnes, movement by Libby Seward. Design is by Liam Doona (sets), Mattie Ullrich (costumes), Arnim Friess (projection, including black-and-white footage of the Spanish Civil War as a backdrop to the Act III ballet, itself expressing the social, political and military struggles of that period with 3 excellent dancers). Lighting is co-designed by Daniele Naldi and Paolo Bonapace. The Orchestra and Chorus of Wexford Opera are conducted by Marcus Bosch.
Manrique, a ‘troubadour’ and officer of the anti-fascist partisans, is played by Mexican tenor Eduardo Niave. Even offstage, his serenade to Leonore was rich and mellifluous. Convincing too was his love for his (adoptive) mother, the gypsy Azucena and his instinctive sparing of the life of Le Comte de Luna when he defeats him in a duel. His Act III love aria to Leonore before their planned wedding (Ah sì, ben mio, coll'essere, but in French obviously) was very lovely, whist the frantic pledge to rescue Azucena from being burnt at the stake like her mother (Di quella pira l'orrendo foco) was compelling. His wistful Act IV prison duet with Azucena ‘Ai nostri monti ritorneremo’ had one almost believing that they might escape.
The Count, a commander of the fascist forces, is played by Georgian baritone Giorgi Lomiseli. He wants Leonore for himself and is enraged by the spell cast on her by the anonymous troubadour. When he discovers that his rival in love is Manrique, his enemy in war and politics also, they fight a duel, which he loses but is spared. His beautiful love aria (Il balen del suo sorriso) praising the radiance of Leonore’s smile, is tainted slightly by the context: he plans to abduct her from the convent where she is about to take her vows, believing Manrique to be dead. It was still delicious. The arrival of a very alive Manrique foils his plans a second time. From that point on, the role is unambiguously that of melodrama villain. Thoroughly excellent.
American soprano Lydia Grindatto makes a delectable Leonore, repaying Verdi’s generosity manifold. Her Act I aria confiding her love for a mysterious troubadour to her friend Inès (Tacea la notte placida & Di tale amor) was absolutely gorgeous, but there was better to come as the melodrama ramped up. The trio at the end of Act I where she tries to prevent the rivals from duelling (Di geloso amor sprezzato) was stunning. Her Act IV aria buying Manrique’s freedom by offering herself to The Count, even as she has taken poison (Mira, d'acerbe lagrime) was heartrending, as was her Trio with the rivals, where she makes clear where her loyalty lies, even as she dies (Prima che d'altri vivere). Fabulous.
October has been a month of stunning mezzos for this reviewer. Ukrainian mezzo-soprano Kseniia Nikolaieva is another to add to the list. She brought the combination of fierceness and vulnerability that makes Azucena believable to the role and there is a sense that, in the French version, the role has added prominence – she certainly got the biggest cheers at the final bow. Costume, hair and makeup also scored a winner here. Her Act II sequence revealing the graphic details of her mother’s unjust execution, her vow to avenge it, and her guilt at throwing her own child on the flames instead of that of the Count’s brother (Stride la vampa & Condotta ell'era in ceppi) was compelling; with added poignancy from a rich lower end to her register. At the end, when the Count has Manrique executed, she reveals the dark secret: ‘Egli era tuo fratello! Sei vendicata, o madre’. The Count has killed his brother; her mother is avenged. Superb.
Italian bass Luca Gallo played Fernand, an officer in the Count’s battalion, who gives us the official version of ‘the story so far’ (Di due figli vivea padre beato) at the start, addressed to his brigade while he orders them to keep watch. Great French diction. Manrique’s comrade Ruiz was played by Irish tenor Conor Prendiville. Irish lyric soprano Jade Phoenix was Leonore’s friend and confidante Inès. As in this production the ‘gypsy encampment’ is a rally of the anti-fascist partisans, the minor role of ‘An Old Gypsy’ is instead ‘An Old Bohemian’ and was sung by Canadian baritone Philip Kalmanovitch. The minor roles of ‘A messenger’ in Act II and ‘A jailer’ in Act IV (of the French version) were played by Romanian tenor Vladimir Sima and Irish bass-baritone Conor Cooper respectively.
There are no anvils being hammered in the Act II ‘Anvil Chorus’ of this production. The partisans raise a bell in their meeting-place. It still sounded fabulous. The Soldier’s Chorus at the start of Act III was also a thrill. The Act IV ‘Miserere’ was beautifully atmospheric. High quality movement direction (Libby Seward) governed the visuals of the scenes with soldiers, partisans, nuns and religious processions. Aurally too the chorus were a credit to themselves and Chorus Master Andrew Synnott. The orchestra underscored the drama to perfection, supporting the singers in delivery of their best, with the harp’s accompaniment to the Troubadour’s Serenade (Deserto sulla terra) particularly delicious. Conductor Marcus Bosch held it all together admirably.
This was a first hearing for me of the French version. Whilst I would never wish to abandon the original, it’s a winner, with that Ballet Music a particular gem (and certainly not the usual “delaying the action and making me late for my bus” reaction). It’s a yes from me.
photo credit Pádraig Grant