If any opera has an unusual performance history this is Francesco Cavalli’s Eliogabalo. It was composed in 1667 for performances in the following year’s carnival at Venice’s Teatro Santi Giovanni e Paolo, but it was finally cancelled. For reasons unknown, the theatre’s owners changed their mind and had a different composer set Aurelio Aureli’s libretto to music. Cavalli’s score had its world première 331 years later in Italy, and has been since then performed in the United States and in Europe, most famously in the Paris Opera, under Leonardo García Alarcón, as one can see on YouTube.
Eliogabalo was composed following Claudio Monteverdi’s standards – some sources say the reason for the cancellation back in Venice was the fact it was considered old-fashioned at the time – and there is more than a splash of L’Incoronazione di Poppea there, especially a plot inspired in a bad-boy Roman emperor’s sex life. If Busenello’s libretto is a chicer than Aureli’s – and maybe Monteverdi’s writing more dramatically efficient, Eliogabalo feels rather like the HBO-version of entertainment inspired by Roman history – dialogues are witty in a vaudeville-like manner, the dramatic moments are more bombastic, the atmosphere is more risqué, the melodies are catchier and rather quite self-indulging in terms of dramatic timing. I watched the video with a TV-series-binge-watching interest. I write all this to explain why Calixto Bieito’s new production ultimately felt disappointing.
This is a work very few people are familiar with. If any. And I have the impression that those who haven’t watched the Paris video have left the theatre without the faintest idea of what was going on. OK, they can google afterwards – but it’s a good libretto, I had fun following the story on video and I am sorry for those who were denied the opportunity. It is not the simple fact that the plot was updated and there was lots of so-last-century episodes of people undressing for no particular reason, acting as if they had serious mental problems, screaming and jumping or throwing food at each other – it is just that the Personenregie was entirely nonsensical. And the very generous cuts did not help it at all. For instance, Alessandro Cesare is supposed to be the very opposite of Eliogabalo. While the emperor is dissolute, the libretto shows Alessandro as the very image of probity. In what regards his relationship with Flavia Gemmira, his affection, fidelity and respect are unshakable. I really see no point in showing him as the emperor’s mini-me, including the abusive way he dealt with his fiancée – in the libretto portrayed as a model of patrician dignity, but here shown as someone seriously under the influence of very VERY powerful entertainment drugs. I could go on, but I will write “etc etc etc” instead. That said, those who know the Paris video could resort to that experience to find their way towards the psychedelic videoclip performed this evening and enjoy its visual appeal, the excellent acting from all involved and the apt but poorly developed Almodovár-ish playing with gender-identity issues.
Only a scholar in Cavalli’s music could find anything to be desired in the musical side of this performance. I mean, I am unable to say what is authentic of not in terms of instrumentation, but it sounded authentic AND efficient in terms of a performance in an opera house these days. the sound picture was a little bit more violin-oriented than in the Paris performance (what is a good thing when you have a staging with the orchestra in the pit and noises from the production), conductor/violinist/countertenor Dmitry Sinkowsky is not trying to sell you any academic concept here, but rather concentrates on going to the heart of the music-dramatic matter of this work. Even when the staging undermined a bit the affetto, the conductor would put it across in such a powerful way that you would get it with your eyes open. The continuo was warmly performed, offering tonal variety without trying to compete with singers (as one sometimes hears in “historically informed” performances these days). In Paris, what one could consider the prima donna role of Flavia Gemmira was taken by Nadine Sierra, what added an extra dimension in terms of tonal glamour. If the comparison is rather unfair to Anna El-Khashem this evening, it is only because tonal glamour is precisely what she cannot offer. Other than this, hers was an all-round strong performance, firm in tone, agile in coloratura, clear in diction. Considering the directorial choice for the role, it is difficult to speak of poise, but she did her best to produce some. As Anicia Eritea, Siobhan Stagg showed an entirely different palette in a velvety soprano with some beautiful mezza voce effects. Her duets with the awesome contralto Beth Taylor (in the trouser roles of Giuliano Gordio) were the highlights of the evening. I was eager to see Sophie Junker live for the first time. Although the role of Atilia Macrina is rather seconda-donna-ish, she lived up to my high expectations. Exquisite voice, charming phrasing, lovely personality. In the title role, Yuriy Mynenko sang with a firm, round and rather spacious countertenor voice. For some reason, I had thought he did not have the attitude for the part, but that’s not true. What he offered was effective, unexaggerated and at moments almost relatable. David Hansen was the Nerone in Calixto Bieito’s Poppea in Zürich. Back then he sounded a bit strained and emphatic to my ears. This time, as Alessandro Cesare, my impression was rather that he displayed some impressive control of the high tessitura, either in powerful top notes or in piano passages sung with instrumental purity. Yes, there were some strained moments, but he disguised it well with “acting with the voice” and was ideally matched to Ms. El-Khashem’s reedy sound. Mark Milhofer was very well cast as Lenia, and Daniel Giulianini was a forceful Nerbulone.
I HEAR VOICES 
The only time I’ve seen this was Gotham Opera in NYC, which was so poorly done it made me fear for Cavalli in NYC going forward.
I will say based off your review, it does kind of seem like Bieito has mellowed or something. This work seems ripe for the worst kind of excess on his part.
A friend of mine said that it looked as if he had let his intern stage this. It looked like the caricature of a Bieito staging. It’s sad, for his Poppea in Zurich was interesting.