“Don Carlo” was slo-o-o-o-w at the Met; even the usually reliable Dmitri Hvorostovsky (inset, left) and Ramó Vargas were off. (
)
The Met’s performance of “Don Carlo” Friday night was a tragedy, but not for the reason Verdi intended.
The 1867 melodrama tells of the Spanish prince Carlo, desperately in love with Princess Elisabetta who is forced, for political reasons, to marry his father, the king.
Under conductor Lorin Maazel’s limp baton, the gloomy tale became a slow-motion nightmare. Scene after scene trudged by in an unvarying dirge tempo.
At 82, the former music director of the New York Philharmonic is celebrating the 50th anniversary of his Met debut with this revival.
At this glacial pace, though, another half-century will elapse before these performances run their course.
The singers struggled as if they were swimming through Jell-O. Veteran Italian bass Ferruccio Furlanetto momentarily jolted the opera to life with a gripping performance of his great monologue “Ella giammai m’amò,” the king’s lament that the queen has never loved him.
Even Met favorite Dmitri Hvorostovsky had an off night as Rodrigo, the prince’s idealistic friend. The intense, silver-maned singer’s baritone turned uncharacteristically gruff and choppy, recovering just in time for a warm legato reading of his lyrical death scene.
Ramón Vargas brought a wiry, wimpy tenor to the title role, while Anna Smirnova belted out the elegant lines of the jealous Princess Eboli in a brash, strident mezzo.
Worst, though, was Barbara Frittoli as Queen Elisabetta. Her threadbare soprano turned harsh and shrill on every high note, and her acting spanned the narrow range between glum and sullen.
British director Nicholas Hytner’s production seemed serious but vigorous when it debuted two seasons ago, and the scene of the monastery of San Giusto remains a spooky miracle of smoke and shadow.
This time around, though, the relentless black-on-black design palette and slow, formal movement felt depressing. You want to tell all those anguished aristocrats to snap out of it.
Little chance of that, though, with Maazel casting his pall over the proceedings. Granted, he deserves kudos for his long service to music, but Verdi merits a little respect, too.