I Barocchisti, Diego Fasolis - Piccinni Niccolo: Le donne vendicate (2004)

Niccolò Piccinni was admired equally in his day for his comic operas, his serious operas and, in his later career, his French tragedies. Operatic economics being what they are, now as in his own day, it is chiefly the comic operas that get a hearing. By far the most popular of Piccinni’s was La buona figliuola, to a libretto by Goldoni after Richardson’s Pamela. Le donne vendicate (‘The women avenged’) of 1763, three years (and, unbelievably, 22 operas) later, is an intermezzo, also to a Goldoni text.

Piccinni is nothing if not fluent, and this little piece is deftly written. Its slender and rather silly plot deals with a couple of ladies who are offended by a rebuke from a self-regarding Count, take their revenge, culminating in a mock-duel, and end up with one of them marrying him and the other marrying their champion. Most of the music is quick-moving and spirited, but there are several charming and gracefully written arias, a couple of gently plaintive ones, and some interesting ensembles, early examples of the ‘chain finale’ type familiar from Mozart, where changes in tempo and metre effectively point up the action and the changing dramatic situation. Piccinni’s textures are light, in the usual Italian style (he uses just oboes and horns, and those only occasionally, with the strings), but the accompani-mental violin writing is finely detailed and carefully written.

The performance here is neatly and appropriately done. The singers don’t throw off the secco recitative quite as rapidly or as conversationally as I rather think they would have done back in 1763, but they make sure that the listener (if Italian-speaking) can follow the sense. The principal soprano role of Lindora is brightly and perkily taken by Giuliana Castellani, sometimes a shade shrill, as I suppose she should be. Slightly softer in tone, Sylva Pozzer brings rather more character to the novel-reading Aurelia – her aria near the end of the opera is done with real warmth. The delightful little minuet the two sing together as the beginning of the opera sets the tone for the whole piece.

The Count is sung by Vincenzo di Donato, who phrases his music with some elegance although the voice seems to be produced rather far back, leading to a hint of hollowness of tone. He does his final aria, a sort of parody of a serious amorous one, quite gracefully. The basso buffo part of Ferramonte, the girls’ champion, is sung with due spirit by Mauro Buda.

Diego Fasolis directs with assurance and I Barrochisti accompany promptly. Le donne vendicate is pleasing enough, but it’s rather slight. This recording gives a good idea of high-class operatic fodder in the middle and late 18th century.