From Our Far-flung Correspondents Series:
Norma and the Reinvention of Tragedy: Reflections from Florence
Versión en español aquí
In the cradle of humanism, every dimension of being erects in a fascinating balance between the past and contemporaneity. Spiritual introspection resonates within acoustic spheres infused with pigments and ambition. Aesthetics overlap the moral dichotomy, and obstinate lapses of ingenuity release an aroma that distracts the conscience. Though foreign to Florentine abstraction, Norma‘s essence harbors intricate internal challenges in its effigy of perfection.
On March 9, 11, 16, and 18, the Teatro Maggio Musicale Fiorentino (formerly Teatro Comunale) welcomes the sixth staging of Vincenzo Bellini’s Norma. The modern stage machinery granted free rein to the avant-garde aspirations of stage director Andrea De Rosa, ensuring that the visual experience heightened the nuances of the story. The auditorium’s semi-inclined circular design, crafted from amber-toned wood, blended seamlessly with the bronze representation of the casta diva, whose splendor enveloped the audience for much of the performance. At precisely 8:00 p.m., the martial spirit of the overture emerged in a solid performance by the Orchestra del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino. The curtain rose, revealing a group of soldiers, their faces concealed except for their eyes, subjugating the Gaul warriors by yanking their long hair. From that moment, comprehension detached itself from listening, seeking to decipher this eclectic representation. The attire of the militia provoked astonishment; in the immediate inability to grasp this allegory, my subconscious was overwhelmed by the looming specter of dehumanization. As the scene unfolded, it became clear that the warriors’ long blonde hair was secured to their helmets and armor.
Andrea De Rosa asserts that his theatrical approach focuses on “observing the present from other angles” and confirms that the modern soldiers symbolize the brutality of military forces, such as the U.S. army perpetrating torture in Iraq’s Abu Ghraib prison. This contemporary vision merges with archaic rituals in a subsequent scene, where under the enemy’s watchful gaze, the Gauls, through dance, submerge, shake, and strike their locks against the water of a well—an altar-like centerpiece on stage. The chiaroscuro installation conjured the perfect atmosphere for the mythical bel canto signature aria, “Casta Diva”. Australian soprano Jessica Pratt, renowned for her mastery of this demanding style, articulated each figure with such freshness and precision that it was hard to believe this was her Norma debut. The audience could not restrain themselves and interrupted the final exhalation with thunderous applause.
Bellini seems to present the jewel of his composition quite early; however, his supreme skill in melodic development—where each note is meticulously crafted to enhance the text’s prosody—gives way to a succession of arias, duets, and trios that become a fable for the senses. Conductor Michele Spotti complements this idea, asserting that “the music itself is the word” and that through the instrumental connection between each scene, “the drama flows in a current of emotions and sensations that keep the musical discourse perpetually alive.” Indeed, the labyrinth of thoughts traversing Norma, Adalgisa, and Pollione fuels the composition’s emotional transitions. A prime example is the confessional recitative between Pollione (Mert Süngü) and Flavio (Yaozhou Hou), “Svanir Le Voci.” Bellini’s declamatory style often displays a more versatile articulation, offering variety to the extended lines he dedicates to Pollione.
If the slow ascent of the well’s heavy cover—gradually embodying the substance of the natural satellite—seemed to be the most striking stage effect, the start of the seventh scene was even more unexpected. The stage rose halfway, unveiling the depths of a furnished bunker-like room protected by two security doors on either side. Two columns divided the space into three sections, separating the simultaneous theatrical and musical sequences. In the first quadrant, a bunk bed housed a girl and a boy in pajamas, frolicking and sleeping. Norma, now dressed in domestic attire, reaffirmed the coexistence of two worlds. The character of Clotilde (Elizaveta Shuvalova) was entirely devoted to shielding the children from familial chaos, seizing every opportunity to embrace and caress them—an excess of affection bordering on saccharine. Yet, the children sought this closeness, extending their arms to every character present.
Andrea De Rosa paints this shocking tableau to illustrate that, regardless of the era, children have been victims of both domestic crises and war, condemned to isolation and confinement. It was exhausting to witness two little beings trapped in monotony in the background, their emotional fluctuations mirroring the mother’s turmoil. Despite this anguish, Bellini delivers stirring duets like “Mira o Norma.” The elaborate and crystalline homophony between Norma and Adalgisa (Maria Laura Lacobellis) cast a prismatic glow amid the somber setting. Later, Pollione confronts his transgressions and joins the female discourse in melodic complicity with the orchestra.
The introduction to the second act sheds its martial tone, and the cellos’ poignant melody foreshadows a farewell. The stage returns to the Gaul universe, but quantum dimensions introduce a surreal element: an arsenal of pistols and rifles to face the militia. Norma also replaces the historical dagger with a firearm. However, she does not wield it in the bunker with the intention of extinguishing her children’s lives—an alteration that further humanizes her character in this rendition. The altar morphs into an abstract pyre, and the locks of hair once again serve as ceremonial symbols before transforming into bindings that tether Norma and Pollione to their mortal sacrifice. The monumental polyphony of the finale in which the lines of Oroveso (Riccardo Zanellato) and the choir intertwine, pleadingly supported by the forceful announcement of the horns and percussion, gratifies us with the last theatrical surprise. The stage rises once more, revealing the bunker’s walls covered in anxious children’s doodles and words like casa (home) and mamma. Resting against this eloquent mural, the girl lies in a futile yearning for freedom while her brother, a few steps away, is lost in a state of madness.
An audience well-versed in the purity of the Italian repertoire erupted in ovations for the cast, the choir, and the orchestra. The timelessness of the staging and the creativity of the scenery and costumes resulted in an impeccably design exhibition. Michele Spotti safeguarded each note to ensure the romantic essence remained pristine while the orchestra channeled every dynamic and phrasing with boundless excellence.
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A cellist from Bogotá, Colombia, now residing in Nashville. She is pursuing a new direction by enrolling in the Master’s program in Musicology at Middle Tennessee State University to deepen her expertise in the ‘backstage’ aspects of music repertoire.
