Verdi’s enormous opera The Sicilian Vespers (Les vêpres siciliennes) is based on a story of 13th-century Sicilian revolt against French rule, and this well-deserved revival of a 2013 production still resonates powerfully despite itself. A few typically operatic plot twists aside, it’s a highly realistic work with developed characters who propel the opera with their anguish and its political consequences.
Montfort is the all-powerful French governor of the occupying force, a manipulative villain who’s full of self-pity because his rape victim hid his child from him (what nerve!), Jean Procida is a frustrated rebel leader eager to martyr himself, and Hélène is a vengeful, grieving Sicilian widow. The only other local with any guts is Henri, who is in love with Hélène. He’s also Montfort’s son! This catastrophic revelation fires the engine of the plot as political loyalties strain against blood and love. There are heart-wrenching accusations of treachery and sudden pardons under the executioner’s ax, a wedding called off at the altar and many, many requests to die. How will they choose? How will they forgive each other for their choices?
Despite its reputation for a clunky libretto (Verdi complained) and unpopularity today compared to his masterpieces, the opera rolled through its four hours – only a few mass scenes drag, for all their sonic power, compared to potent individual struggles – without losing much momentum. It’s a credit to the attentive verve of principal guest conductor Speranza Scappucci in her debut with the Royal Opera.
Photo Credit: Tristram Kenton
Quinn Kelsey (Montfort) and Valentyn Dytiuk (Henri) at the Royal Opera
Tenor Valentyn Dytiuk (Henri) sang with force and passionate intensity as a wholly believable ardent young man; his “O jour de peine” was achingly lovely. I caught a chill from soprano Joyce El-Khoury’s “Au sein des mers.” Her Hélène was astonishingly supple at a hush, and she could take us by the throat with few signs of strain. It was a strong debut for all three. Baritone Quinn Kelsey (Montfort) reprised his role from 2013, and his experience was evident in his subtly acidic characterization and delicious rounded sound. Ildebrando D’Arcangelo’s Procida sounded limp until the final act, but like El-Khoury’s limited stage movement, this is also a function of the writing.
This production adds a stage-within-a-stage and spreads the ballet – obligatory in Paris at the time – all around in a kind of tragic pantomime that is supposed to make Vespers “not about nationalities or politics at all, but about the illusion and disillusion of theatrical representation.” A struggle against violent occupation transformed into a fight over theatre management? I will forever defend the right of directors to experiment, but this conceit is silly.
Vespers is entirely about personalities and politics, so amplifying the audience’s awareness of being at the theatre only grinds against the seriousness of the story and dramatic current of the music. In the first minutes, dancers in rehearsal (representing Sicilian women) are attacked and raped by French soldiers. Montfort rapes Henri’s mother and we are made to watch. Later, Hélène sings to rouse her people to revolt, and they respond to her outrage with courage, the audience with sympathy. It is a demonstration of the power of art to affect life, and Verdi makes us believe what we see despite knowing we are at the theatre. This production tries to make us doubt.
Photo Credit: Tristram Kenton
Canadian Joyce El-Khoury with the chorus in The Sicilian Vespers
Opera Canada depends on the generous contributions of its supporters to bring readers outstanding, in-depth coverage of opera in Canada and beyond. Please consider subscribing or donating today.
