First Revival of Adele Thomas’ Il trovatore at the Royal Ballet and Opera, Covent Garden (Column)

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Giuseppe Verdi’s Il trovatore of 1853, with a libretto by Salvadore Cammarano and Leone Emanuele Bardare, is based on Antonio García Gutiérrez’s Spanish play El trovador of 1836. Set in fifteenth century Spain it tells of the noble lady Leonora who is in love with the troubadour Manrico, but is herself loved by the Count di Luna, a nobleman in the service of the Prince of Aragon. The Count’s younger brother Garzia supposedly died in infancy when a gypsy was burnt at the stake for allegedly bewitching him, and the charred body of a baby was then found on her pyre. It transpires, however, that as the gypsy died she ordered her daughter Azucena to avenge her death by killing Garzia, but in her despair and confusion Azucena threw her own baby onto the fire instead of the noble child. Thus Manrico, who Azucena subsequently brought up as her own, is actually the Count di Luna’s brother, although the Count does not know this.

As the Count and Manrico battle for Leonora it reaches a point where both Azucena and Manrico find themselves imprisoned and facing death. Leonora promises to give herself to the Count if he will release Manrico, and the Count agrees because he does not realise she has taken poison to ensure that she dies before he will ever be able to lay a finger on her. When he discovers her dying, however, he orders Manrico’s execution. Azucena is unable to stop the killing, and after it has occurred she declares that Manrico was the Count’s brother, and thus that her mother has been avenged.

Adele Thomas’ staging for the Royal Ballet and Opera, which represents a co-production with Opernhaus Zürich, first appeared at the Royal Opera House in 2023 and now returns under revival director Simon Iorio. The staging proved to be rather problematic two years ago, and, while a few aspects have quite a different feel to them now, any changes are not enough to suddenly make it work. The difficulty may be that it seems to be striving for several things, with the result that none of them are really achieved. Giacomo Sagripanti’s conducting is strong, and the cast is excellent, but it feels as if they are successful despite having to battle against a concept that does not actually help them to shine.

Thomas uses Netherlandish artist Hieronymus Bosch as an inspiration, which sounds a good idea as he was contemporaneous with when the opera’s action is set. However, the aim to conjure up an image of the fifteenth century world that all of the characters inhabit is blunted by the decision to present quite a minimalist staging. Although there is an attempt to inject colour into it, the irony and comedy that are striven for do not hit the mark so that the results feel timid and sometimes even silly.

Despite a suitably monstrous face forming the front cloth, as soon as the curtain rises Annemarie Woods’ set merely presents a huge staircase, surrounded by three frames that fall one behind the other. This creates quite a sterile area that, even when brought to life by the activity that fills it, does not really feel as if it is providing a specific context for the action. In order for us to relate to concepts such as love, jealousy and rivalry, it helps to see these played out in an obvious setting, whether that be the original one or another. When they seem to be presented devoid of any real context, the emotions themselves feel more abstract and hence less relatable.

Rachel Willis-Sørensen is a splendid Leonora, having also played the part for some of the performances in 2023. Her soprano combines richness with subtlety, and with her long flowing hair making her appear like a Pre-Raphaelite muse, she has exactly the right presence for the role. Her performance of ‘Tacea la notte placida’ is both sensitive and passionate, and benefits from having virtually no visual distractions. Even here, however, the arm gestures that the direction demands of Ines trivialise the occasion a little by making her confidante appear petulant, although this is no reflection on Valentina Puskás who sings extremely well.

Michael Fabiano asserts his expansive tenor to tremendous effect as Manrico, and is every inch the impassioned and determined troubadour. As the Count di Luna, Aleksei Isaev’s baritone is rich and persuasive. However, the fact that this production requires him to sing more towards the back of the stage than most others would does not aid his projection, although after the interval he is particularly strong. When he sings ‘Il balen del suo sorriso’ the reactions of his retainers, despite being toned down from 2023, take the focus away from him. Their movement is not that great, but as they shuffle forwards and backwards in response to how assertive he is being in the aria, we are being told that this is a man on a stage delivering a big sing, which affects our ability to get inside the mind of one who is revealing the total strength of his feelings for Leonora.

This represents a far greater problem with the staging. In keeping with the Bosch theme, some demonic horned dancers are introduced, who at times appear to be the Count’s ‘henchmen’ under the leadership of his officer Ferrando (a superb Blaise Malaba who shares the role with Riccardo Fassi). They fall between two stools, however, as they do not strike terror into the proceedings on the one hand, or inject enough irony or comedy into them on the other. Similarly, the normally rousing ‘Vedi! Le fosche notturne spoglie’ falls flat as the humour does not extend much beyond some chorus members blocking their ears at the sound of the anvils. Against this, the dancers’ movements and the jerky arm waving of the chorus do not make the affair feel anywhere near exuberant enough.

Arising out of this comes a very appealing performance from Agnieszka Rehlis as Azucen. With a full yet nuanced mezzo-soprano, she does not provide the most flamboyant interpretation of the role, but conversely ensures it brims with inner intensity. After all of the misplaced shenanigans, a performance that enables us to focus on one individual and feel things from her perspective is exactly what is needed. It is a shame that there are not more moments like this for when Manrico confronts the Count at the end of Act II, the women’s chorus dressed as nuns raise their arms in stereotypical gestures that do nothing to suggest the seriousness of the struggle between the two men for Leonora. The problem is that the comic aspects to the scene, such as the demonic dancers jumping amidst the nuns, fail to leave any humorous impression, but are still enough to affect the set-up. Manrico and the Count address each other while standing apart and facing in different directions, when a bold and genuine confrontation between the two characters would be far more dramatic.

It is only in Act IV, when the visual distractions become far less, that we really get to feel the intensity of each character’s feelings over a sustained period, and this is ultimately a shame because the performers prove throughout the evening that they are capable of delivering both vocally and dramatically to the highest standard. After the current run finishes on 22 March the opera returns between 8 and 19 July with two different casts.

By Sam Smith

Il trovatore | 26 February - 19 July 2025 | Royal Ballet and Opera, Covent Garden

the 05 of March, 2025 | Print