{TABLE} Partsina ......... Donizetti {/TABLE} ONE of the thrusts of the Wexford Festival's current artistic director, Luigi Ferrari, is a back to roots concentration on early romantic Italian opera. Donizetti is core repertoire for Wexford, and the 1996 festival opened last night with a new production of his Parisina, a three act melodramnia from 1833 with a libretto by Felice Romani after Byron.
The Parisina of the title is married to Azzo, a 15th century Duke of Ferrara. She, however, loves another, Ugo, who in the way of opera plots - turns out to be not only Azzo's rival but also his son. This unexpected revelation does not long restrain the wrath of the jealous Duke. He has Ugo put to death, an action which precipitates the death of Parisina from grief.
It's a lurid, cruel tale, and one, argues Luciano Alberti in the Wexford programme book, for which Donizetti required singers capable of a new violence of emotion. Certainly, the Parisina of Alexandrina Pendatchanska, generally haughty and aloof in physical bearing, is projected with a vividness of vocal character which borders on fierceness.
This woman, we are clearly messaged, is no bel canto doll, and the calculated moments of relief (most notably the delicate singing of the Act II dream) point up how just little relief is elsewhere to be had. Pendatchanska's hard toned performance is both arresting and exciting, but, in spite of how much there is to admire, there is very little to warm to.
The opera's high point is the confrontation scene between Parisina and the enraged Azzo after be has heard her divulge his rival's name in her sleep. Here, the stiffish Azzo of Roberto Servile is at his animated best, and conductor Maurizio Benini (who secures finely nuanced playing from the NSO throughout) underpins the singers with a passionate surge.
The tenor, Amadeo Moretti, remains a relatively unconvincing Ugo until after his fate is effectively sealed, when his feelings of defiance are triumphantly aired. The two smaller roles of Ernesto and Imelda are strongly taken by Richard Robson and Daniela Barcellona, and the chorus settled in well after some insecurities in Act 1.
Stefano Vizioli's direction was not always imaginative and allowed the singers rather too much in the way of stock operatic gestures and movements. However, the sliding walls of Ulderico Manani's weather worn set were both effective and evocative.