When Mariame Clément’s production of Il Turco in Italia was first seen at Glyndebourne in 2021, it was widely hailed as brilliantly funny. When it was revived in 2024, it was seen as even better, and this time its third outing is absolutely perfect, exploiting the full potential of a delightfully humorous plot.
Prosdocimo is an author struggling to create a new comedy. Taking inspiration from a band of gypsies and a couple of troubled romances, he starts to create a story but keeps changing his mind. His characters are portrayed on stage, constantly irritated by these alterations which demand repeated costume changes, set changes and backtracking on their actions. A further illustration of the mayhem is provided by a projection of Prosdocimo’s manuscript with frequent crossings out and re-writes.
On a couple of occasions, the characters even threaten the author with violence. While the singing is loyal to Rossini’s original creation, the manuscript projection allows a good deal of joyous comic addition to the story. Never before have so many items in a butcher’s shop be put to good comic use in an opera, including the use of a string of sausages as a martial arts weapon.
The main characters in Prosdocimo’s story are married couple Geronio and Fiorilla, who are bored with each other and have been taking numerous lovers. Meanwhile, the Turkish Prince Selim is visiting Italy in search of romance and runs into gypsy fortune-teller Zaida who has escaped from his harem. The passions and jealousies that result are completely ridiculous and provide perfect material for both Prosdocimo and Rossini.
The music for Rossini’s comic operas is always full of joy and vocal gymnastics making great demands on the performers with which this cast all cope superbly, but even more impressive than the singing is their display of comic acting and timing. This is a true ensemble performance, with everyone playing their part in giving the audience plenty to cheer about at the end.
Italian baritone Matteo Mancini manages to hold everything together as the frustrated writer Prosdocimo, Cuban-American soprano Elena Villalón is a delight as sexually rampant Fiorilla, constantly seeking an alternative to her beleaguered husband Geronio, played by Russian-American baritone Rodion Pogossov.
Azerbaijani mezzo-soprano Aytaj Shikhizada adds to the joy and confusion as Zaida while Hungarian bass-baritone Peter Kálmán is splendidly effective as Selim, but perhaps the most appreciated aria came from Chinese tenor Minghao Liu in the smaller part of Fiorella’s lover Don Narciso.
They and the rest of the cast all contributed to a glorious performance, as did revival director Ian Rutherford and young conductor Bertie Baigent with the London Philharmonic Orchestra. Such closely knit, communal productions are what Glyndebourne always does so well and the result was impeccable and outrageously enjoyable.
