La Donna Musicale is a Boston-based ensemble dedicated to rediscovering and performing works by female composers from the Renaissance, Baroque and Classical periods. Friday night at Old South Church they gave Maria Teresa Agnesi’s opera Sophonisba its modern premier, and almost made their mission a footnote. Male or female, dead or alive, the bottom line was music of great beauty and power.
The concert program describes Agnesi (1720-1795) as the “product of a vigilant father and a changing society.” Women in eighteenth century Italy benefitted considerably from the cultural and educational reforms of the Enlightenment, assuming influential roles in academia, the sciences and the arts. Those reforms and innate talent paved Agnesi’s path from respected soiree performer to celebrated opera composer in Milan. Sophonisba isn’t the only work dedicated to a monarch, but its dedicatee Maria Theresa of Austria thought enough of this opera to sing some parts herself.
Friday night’s excerpts were probably too intense for the royal downtime. On its surface Sophonisba is a typically complicated “dramma eroico” about a princess forced into marriage with a military ally but secretly in love with a rival nation’s general, a tale of love versus duty in a time of war. Yet the heart of the story is a brave woman who places her heart and life in the hands of a man who refuses to admit he is unable to protect her from harm. La Donna Musicale tastefully sculpted the four hundred page opera down to a few core scenes of intense feeling.
Judging from the arias selected by the ensemble, Agnesi saw this libretto as a great opportunity to explore powerful emotions through nuanced musical language. The jerky strings of “Dubbia ancor del mio destino” (“I still doubt my fate”) amplify Sophonisba’s trembling uncertainty to pathological proportions, before turning gloomy and gooey for the middle section’s pure despair. Vivaldian flurries decorate the false bravado of Sophonisba’s beloved Massinissa on “Rapido turbin vede” (“Oncoming violent winds”), while the rhythms turn noticably limp when he has to tell his beloved to choose suicide over capture on “Dille, che se catene” (“Tell her, if chains…”). The bromance between the Roman General Scipione and Massinissa on “Si ripiglia, o caro, alfine” (“To resume, friend, at last”) shows Agnesi can spin a lush tune, and she reminds us who wears the pants (symbolically, anyway) in Sophonisba’s gleefully vengeful “Spera Roma il fier contento” (“Rome may hope for the pride”).
The cast clearly relished these theatrically and technically vivid narratives, with some occasional yet forgivable histrionics. Renee Rapier’s voluminous mezzo beautifully communicated Sophonisba’s fear, courage and resolve when she finally takes Massinissa’s advice. Her vocal and facial gestures might have struck some audience members as melodramatic, and her semi-staged death scene detracted from the gravity of the music, but overall she handled some very challenging music with confidence and passion. Male soprano Robert Crowe was less even, with occasional unsteadiness between registers and awkward dips into chest voice. Yet his vocal characterizations nailed Massinissa’s self-delusion and weakness. Crowe’s improvised cadenzas didn’t always land smoothly, but his imagination and artistic bravery getting off the ground was evident. Pablo Bustos sang Scipione and the opening dedicatory aria with a pliant, sweet tenor; he and Rapier are two young voices I look forward to hearing more of.
I also look forward to more of La Donna Musicale’s rich colors, buoyant rhythms and sensitive accompaniment. The acoustic mix of incisive violins over jogging continuo was ideal, from the strength and dexterity of Sarah Darling’s first violin down to the rich grain of director Laury Gutierrez’s viola da gamba (Na’ama Lion’s strong, emotive flute playing was an added joy). This group would make any repertoire into an ear-opening experience. To their credit they also open up minds and hearts. Musicianship like this is the ideal way to explore unjustly neglected music.
