Verdi’s ‘don carlo’ works its magic at the roh | thearticle

_ _Verdi’s _Don Carlo_, based on the play _Don __Carlos _by the German dramatist Schiller, is an intensely human drama. Its background is the Spanish Court during the reign of Philip II, son

of the Emperor Charles V. This is the same Philip who was co-ruler of England after his marriage to Mary I, daughter of Henry VIII, until her death nearly three years later (their twin

portraits even featured on coins of the time). Historically, Don Carlos was Philip’s son and heir to the throne, by most accounts a brutal and rather nasty young man who died in 1568 at the

age of 23. Don’t let any of that spoil a good story however, and Schiller’s drama is very good indeed. So too is Verdi’s opera, first produced for Paris in 1867, and later that year in

London. The present production at Covent Garden is the five-act 1886 Italian version (_Don Carlo_), where in Act 1, Carlos meets his betrothed Elisabeth de Valois, before she becomes his

father’s third wife. She too died in 1568, also aged 23, less than three months after Carlos. The drama involves a love match between Carlos and Elisabeth, and although many of the court

were delighted to see the end of him, Elisabeth apparently was not. She wept for two days. However, as Sarah Lenton writes in an excellent programme essay, there is no historical evidence

that tenderer feelings were involved. Of course, two people of the same age would be naturally drawn to one another in the bleak court of a king who was happy to be on his own, and in the

Escorial their bodies are laid side by side. Verdi’s opera brings in the vital business of religion. The high command of Spanish Catholicism regarded the Protestants in The Netherlands as

heretics, to be brutally subjugated to Spanish rule. At an _auto-da-fé_ in Act 3 Carlos brings in a group of Flemish envoys to plead with the king for justice, and even draws his sword

against his father, before being gently disarmed by his close friend Rodrigo, the Marquis of Posa. The personal relationships include the beautiful Princess Eboli, who is jealous of Carlos’s

affections for the Queen (Elisabeth), and threatens to unmask him — though she herself is the king’s lover. Heretics, love intrigues, and of course the Grand Inquisitor, who orders the

murder of Rodrigo — a wonderful _coup de theâtre_ — and plays a decisive role at the end in putting down an insurrection against the king. Powerful stuff indeed, and undoubtedly one of

Verdi’s finest operas. The Royal Opera production by Nicholas Hytner is excellent, and musically this worked beautifully under the baton of Bertrand de Billy. Perfection in singing fell

short in some respects. Lisa Davidson as Elisabeth was outstanding, floating lovely soft notes of enduring power. One could hardly do better, and John Relyea was magnificent as Philip II,

outsinging the Grand Inquisitor of Ukrainian bass Taras Shtonda, whose vocal gravitas should be gripping, but wasn’t. It begins with Elisabeth meeting Don Carlos, sung rather too loudly at

the start by Brian Jagde before settling into the role later. Partly for this reason the performance didn’t really gel until the Romanian bass Alexander Köpecz came on as the ghost of

Charles V, appearing later at the very end. A small role, but he was terrific, and the voice from heaven of Sarah Dufresne was lovely. Although Luca Micheletti sang well in the far more

substantial role of Rodrigo, he didn’t entirely convince, though the Eboli of Russian mezzo Yulia Matochkina gave a good account of this difficult role. But my goodness this is a well-judged

production of one of Verdi’s greatest operas. The House was full to the rafters, and roared its applause. A MESSAGE FROM THEARTICLE _We are the only publication that’s committed to covering

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