Concert recitals featuring the redoubtable voice and personality of Roberto Alagna are always in danger of giving the tenor too much of the spotlight, to the detriment of musical purpose. Such was the case in Brussels this week, though Alagna's rich, meaty, often effortless voice—allied to his charming partner Nathalie Manfrino's luxurious tone and supple line—meant that divo indulgences could just about be tolerated.
The concert programme consisted of somewhat injudiciously selected extracts from Gounod's Roméo et Juliette. The truncation of the action to a series of (dramatically chronological, at least) numbers from four of the opera's five acts meant that dramatic cohesion was sacrificed in favour of pageantry and vocal display, though full performances of the balcony and death scenes went some way towards compensation. The French idiom, meanwhile, was a perfect fit with the French front line.
Conductor David Giménez Carreras (nephew of José) was to a degree complicit in giving oxygen to the Alagna bandwagon, failing to sufficiently assert himself in the musical argument, and thus not generating any significant counter voice to the tenor's (admittedly magnetic) leadership. The musicians of the Orchestre National de Belgique were likewise culpable, often relaxing too much into the spectacle and producing sloppy ensemble and lethargic solos, as in the string accompaniment to Alagna's cavatina 'L'amour, l'amour!' from the second act, or in their slightly misaligned fugato entries and counterpoint in an otherwise alluring, appealingly differentiated, Ouverture.
When roused, however, the band proved itself more than capable. The first vocal piece of the evening, Juliette's famous 'Ah! Je veux vivre', whipped along at a joyous rate, gaining momentum at each return of the verse, yet modulating arrestingly into the slower alternating sections when required. Their berceuse introduction to the aforementioned cavatina soothed all the building zest from the air, lulling with harp arpeggios as Alagna meditated slowly to the front. The playing was mischievous, questioning, in the Scéne and Air from the fourth act, and full of passion and well-directed fervour in the Act V dénouement.
The discovery of the concert, for me, was soprano Nathalie Manfrino. Possessing a pliant, gorgeous voice, Manfrino effortlessly seduced the capacity crowd in her solo numbers with tonally sumptuous, dramatically attentive singing (though her coloratura lacked just a little authority), providing compelling contrast to the more sturdy, forthright voice of Alagna in the duets.
The two were a fine pair, in fact, Manfrino's captivating charm proving enough to dispel the feeling you sometimes get with Alagna that he's singing, performing, to no one other than himself. Musically, as I have said, the singers' voices and performing styles blended well. Manfrino's more yielding, tender, even leisurely approach to line meant that phrases stretched out seductively, but Alagna, when not engaged on one of his grandstanding top notes, preferred a more tonally assertive, rhythmically direct (though often dramatically searching, as in his enigmatic and provocative 'l'Amour' and 'C'est là') singing practice, one that was framed by a sometimes macho, more usually gallant, approach to character. In some of the singers' shared cadences, as in the first act madrigal, this divergence of method became a little awkward, though never ruinously so. But otherwise it served to articulate well two distinct and yet complementary vocal and performing personalities.
Manfrino and Alagna demonstrated a winning chemistry throughout, though their empathy was felt particularly in the long balcony scene, where Alagna, starting from a position near the back of the stage just in front of the brass, soared vocally across the orchestra, hitting his top comfortably, moving gracefully around the stage to finally meet Manfrino at the front for a delightfully romantic, admirably restrained (particularly at the climax) 'O nuit divine'. Even here, however, the adulatory mood of the evening caught up with proceedings, with the audience exasperatingly applauding the performers halfway through the scene, requiring that the timpanist maintain his roll for about ten seconds longer than written (causing as outbreak of sniggers across the band). Such was the double edged sword of the evening - winning moments, leavened by indulgence.
Following a rousing reception at the close, Alagna (and Manfrino) offered a lavish and variegated encore, Alagna in particular showing off his range with baritone numbers sitting contentedly alongside Sicilian song and operetta numbers associated with Luis Mariano. An enjoyable evening, then, though one that certainly requires a certain relaxation of etiquette, and earnestness.
Photo: Roberto Alagna and Nathalie Manfrino
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Interview: We talk to Roberto Alagna
Concert Review: Roberto Alagna in concert at the Barbican
Opera Review: Il Trovatore at the ROH with Roberto Alagna and Hvorostovsky