La battaglia di Legnano represents the climax of Verdi’s nationalist, Risorgimento era operas: composed during the period of widespread revolutionary fervour across Italy (and Europe) in 1848, it was premiered at the beginning of the following year in Rome, where a liberal government in the vacuum left by the temporary removal of the Papacy posed few of the censorship issues that obtained elsewhere at that time. Basing an opera upon the historical episode of the Lombard League’s defeat of the Hohenstaufen Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick Barbarossa, near Milan in 1176 was no mere foray into remote history, therefore, but a potent re-telling of past foreign oppression that closely paralleled the situation in the Italian states in the 1840s (against the Habsburgs and others).
Valentina Carrasco’s production for the Verdi Festival at Parma doesn’t reference the 19th century, nor does it dwell on the work’s overt nationalism (where several choruses and march-like numbers feature). Instead, its imagery channels the drama’s focus on the tragedy of war through the suffering of horses which are helplessly pressed into service. Video projections show a montage of living creatures and a hectically Mannerist painting of soldiers and chargers tangled up in warfare. Horses pervade the action, as the Lombards tend them throughout Act One; Frederick dramatically arrives in Act Two mounted upon his steed, in the same imperious gesture that rulers since ancient times have used in iconography and statuary to project their power (especially Roman emperors); and Arrigo is vengefully locked up by his fellow Lombard Rolando (in a moment of conflict among the League) in a stable, so that dishonour would be cast upon him for cowardice if he can’t join the battle against the common enemy.
It appears to be the destruction of horses – and Arrigo’s in particular, portending his own demise – which stirs the Lombards into action against Frederick in the first instance. But the manoeuvring of equine figures on to the set for Act One is perhaps also meant to put us in mind of the Trojan horse and pre-empt the theme of betrayal at the heart of the opera (brought about because Rolando discovers that his wife, Lida, was previously in love with Arrigo, but married him because Arrigo was thought to be dead, and Rolando now jealously misinterprets her and Arrigo’s actions). The German prisoner Marcovaldo is only too ready to exploit such suspicions for military and political purposes.
Horses and humans alike, however, are caught up within the wider forces of history: whereas the imperial side show up in mediaeval attire, the Lombards appear in the uniforms and Brodie helmets of World War One, recapitulating in a more modern era the previous rounds of Italian attempts to rebuff Germanic or Austrian forces in earlier centuries. The idea of the Italian people emerging in different generations to confront invading or imperial powers, and the overall trajectory of history in the creation of their unified state, are clearly implied in the Lombards’ carrying the contemporary green and white flag of that region, as well as in the rising up of wearied, languishing soldiers from within the crypt of Saint Ambrogio’s church in Milan when the ‘Knights of Death’ make their solemn oath at the start of Act Three. Such dramaturgical strategies make a poetic, rather than triumphalist, mockery of Frederick’s provocative assertion in the previous Act that he represents the destiny of Italy and will conquer it.
The performance successfully distils those impulses and energies of the drama – public and personal – in the music. With its prevalence of male voices (solo and choral) the opera’s tinta is somewhat akin to the composer’s slightly earlier I due Foscari (not a Risorgimento opera as such, but dealing with another episode in mediaeval Italian (Venetian) history). Diego Ceretta’s account of the Overture – which adumbrates the opera’s moods and themes – with the Orchestra Giovanile Italiana opens surreptitiously and nervously before giving way to its more tender and soaring sections with some delicate solos. Although the orchestra then usually functions in a subsidiary role throughout the opera, even as accompaniment its performance is still charged with anticipation and foreboding in its urgent ostinato figures (triplets, arpeggios and so on) or poignant instrumental contributions (such as those cutting through the tumultuous chorus ending Act Two when battle is declared).
The vocal soloists are well committed to the atmosphere of the opera and production, led by Antonio Poli’s passionate rendering of Arrigo, the tragic hero who dies in the battle. Ringing with fervour, his singing yet manages to introduce a veneer of touchingly human apprehension. As his former lover Lida, Marina Rebeka tends to be metallic and assertive in timbre, but she combines that with vivacity in the cabaletta when she learns that Arrigo is alive, and arresting tenderness later in her prayer at the opening of Act Four, in its context as moving as Va, pensiero. Vladimir Stoyanov is a solid, relatively reserved Rolando, but sparks fly in his confrontation with Lida and Arrigo in the dramatic trio closing Act Three.
As the haughty emperor, Riccardo Fassi is darkly sonorous and unyielding, in a way that might be problematic in other roles, but here is finely calculated to convey Frederick’s hubristic imperiousness. He also aptly embodies ‘Barbarossa’ in his strikingly hirsute appearance (even if black not red!). Characterful interpretations from Alessio Verna and Arlen Miatto Albeldas round out the cast of named roles.
The events of 1848 brought out of Verdi in this opera more an occasional work than a masterpiece, but this thoughtful and sober production makes a good case for it as something more than a spontaneous or limited response to specific political circumstances.
Curtis Rogers
La battaglia di Legnano
Composer: Giuseppe Verdi
Libretto: Salvadore Cammarano
Cast and production staff:
Federico Barbarossa – Riccardo Fassi; Lida – Marina Rebeka; Arrigo – Antonio Poli; Rolando – Vladimir Stoyanov; Marcovaldo – Alessio Verna; Mayor of Como / First Consul of Milan – Emil Abdullaiev; Second Consul – Bo Yang; Imelda – Arlen Miatto Albeldas; Arrigo’s squire / A herald – Anzor Pilia
Director – Valentina Carrasco; Designer – Margherita Palli; Costumes – Silvia Aymonino; Lighting Designer – Marco Filibeck; Conductor – Diego Ceretta; Chorus of the Teatro Regio di Parma; Orchestra Giovanile Italiana
Teatro Regio, Parma, Italy, 20 October 2024
All photos by Roberto Ricci/Teatro Regio