The ‘little square’ of Wolf-Ferrari’s charming comic opera is one in Venice, as peopled by local characters in a mid-18th century play by Goldoni. It’s as though one of the domestic scenes by the local painter Pietro Longhi has come alive, though with the outdoor setting of the square itself as protagonist, bearing witness to all the family relationships, amorous intrigues, and social rivalries among its down-to-earth residents.
Having been born in Venice but largely trained in Germany, the opera (premiered in 1936) represents a return to a more easy-going musical style for Wolf-Ferrari at a time when his output gained more acceptance in Italy, and he looked back to older dramatic forms. That belies a certain sophistication in the score which discreetly weaves in an eclectic variety of influences. It features in some places a richer strain of lyricism to evoke the 18th century in ways not dissimilar from Stravinsky or Richard Strauss in their neo-Classical or neo-Baroque works – it’s interesting that the opera is more or less exactly contemporary with the latter’s Ben Jonson-inspired comedy, Die schweigsame Frau, for instance. A more modern musical language comes to the fore in some strident dissonance to accompany the brawls, as also in the indeterminate Impressionistic and quartal harmonies which set the scene at the opera’s beginning, somewhat like the openings of Debussy’s Jeux or Vaughan Williams’s A London Symphony; elsewhere a jazzy bass clarinet reveals a more exotic influence. But there is a prevailing light-hearted mood, sometimes alluding to the rhythms of the waltz or other dances in the manner of an operetta from the previous century, such as by Johann Strauss II. And a nostalgic tenderness has the last word with Gasparina’s Bellinian bel canto aria as she bids a regretful farewell to the square she had earlier been eager to leave behind in favour of a more exalted life in Naples with the cavaliere Astolfi (a guest at the inn overlooking the square) followed by a Lehár-like chorus which eulogises it movingly.
Writing the opera had, no doubt, been a homecoming of sorts for the composer, to the city of his birth. But it was an appeal to a place of the past, as Venice had already become in the popular mind by the 1930s, even to some extent as it had by Goldoni’s time when visitors went from across Europe and beyond in search of the pleasures to be found there, but was no longer a politically powerful or influential state. Federico Bertolani evokes the island city’s museum status in this production as the square and its characters become, at various points in the work, nothing more than a tableau vivant, offering a picturesque but historicised scene across which revellers, inhabitants, or tourists from various different periods pass. The square itself is surprisingly chic, constituted by a series of clean white marble facades, and the steps of a canal bridge, without any peeling stucco in sight.
The time-travelling metatheatrical pageant strings together the actors of a commedia dell’arte troupe; an Edwardian-era couple who become engaged; an air raid siren calling to mind the time of war which followed soon after the opera’s premiere; and modern mass tourism with hordes of visitors in shorts and baseball caps, carrying cameras, freshly disgorged from the monstrous cruise ship shown in the background. What is played out in the drama itself is simply the memory of Venetian life as it supposedly once was. And yet the interaction of visitors with it from subsequent generations reminds us that after all, perhaps, Goldoni’s homely little square is a microcosm of human beings with similar concerns and foibles as those of other ages and places: all seeking romantic liaisons or companionship, the allure of travel away from home, the artistic and imaginative diversions afforded by the actors’ revelries, alongside dealing with the threat of war and conflict. There is also a wry irony in that this staging should take place at Genoa, historically also a prosperous maritime republic that was a rival to Venice. In any case, the visual spectacle of characters in dialogue with each other over different times forms its own new version of a commedia dell’arte, and neatly complements the eclectic display of Wolf-Ferrari’s score.
In the pit, Francesco Ommassini firmly holds those disparate musical elements together in a steady, lucid performance. By not rushing the music, those strands flowed seamlessly, without exaggeration or awkward gear changes, maintaining its enchantment. The singers also bring clarity to their delivery of the words, apparently quite faithful to Goldoni’s text. Bianca Tognocchi plays Gasparina more as a whimsical soubrette with a bright, open voice, than a snobbish harridan. The two other young ladies of the square, Luçieta (Gilda Fiume) and Gnese (Benedetta Torre) are well contrasted, not upstaging the more assertive Gasparina, as are their two lovers, Gabriele Sagona’s somewhat brooding moody Anzoleto and Matteo Mezzaro’s more broad-toned and impetuous Zarzeto respectively.
Biagio Pizzuti is a genial Astolfi, expressing interest in Luçieta and Gnese, as well as Gasparina, while as the latter’s father, Fabrizio – initially reluctant to consider her partnership with Astolfi until he discovers that he also is Neapolitan – Marco Camastra is reserved and cautious. Overall, the performance charts an astute, balanced course between sensationalism and sentimentality that offers an honest depiction of Venice through the lens of history.
Curtis Rogers
Il campiello
Composer: Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari
Libretto: Mario Ghisalberti after Carlo Goldoni
Cast and production staff:
Gasparina – Bianca Tognocchi; Dona Cate Panciana – Leonardo Cortellazzi; Luçieta – Gilda Fiume; Dona Pasqua Polegana – Saverio Fiore; Gnese – Benedetta Torre; Orsola – Paola Gardina; Zorzeto – Matteo Mezzaro; Anzoleto – Gabriele Sagona; Il Cavaliere Astolfi – Biagio Pizzuti; Fabrizio dei Ritorti – Marco Camastra
Director – Federico Bertolani; Set designer – Giulio Magnetto; Costume designer – Manuel Pedretti; Lighting designer – Claudio Schmid; Conductor – Francesco Ommassini; Chorus and Orchestra of the Teatro Carlo Felice di Genova
Teatro Carlo Felice, Genoa, Italy, Wednesday 18 March 2026
All photos by Marcello Orselli