Luigi Dallapiccola composed four stage works. One of them, the “sacred representation” Job, has hardly been heard since its premiere 70 years ago, while his only full-length opera Ulisse, first performed in 1968, remains one of the 20th-century’s great neglected masterpieces. Then there are Dallapiccola’s two one-acters – Volo di Notte (Night Flight), based upon Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s novella, and Il Prigioniero (The Prisoner) – and it’s the second of those, first staged in 1950, that has established itself as one of the finest short operas in the 20th-century repertory.
The libretto for Il Prigioniero was taken from a story by Villiers de L’Isle-Adam, originally set in 15th-century Spain during the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella. Dallapiccola moved the action forward a century to the time of Philip II, and changed it from a tale of antisemitic persecution to one of political oppression; the unnamed prisoner of the title, incarcerated by the Inquisition, is a Flemish patriot, who has resisted the Spanish rule of the Netherlands. One night, his cell door is left open, and he glimpses the chance of freedom; but when he creeps out of his cell into a garden under the stars, his hopes are crushed when he is embraced by the Grand Inquisitor himself. But, as the Mother identifies in the prologue, the real villain is Philip, “the king who dismays the world with his fantasies”.
It’s a raw, spare drama, all over in 45 minutes and unfolded through a series of the prisoner’s dialogues – with his mother, the jailer, and finally with the Grand Inquisitor; a chorus provides two choral intermezzos. Dallapiccola’s own version of Schoenberg’s 12-note method gives his orchestral music its wiry strength and his vocal lines their fiercely concentrated lyricism. On the latest instalment of Gianandrea Noseda’s rather etiolated Dallapiccola series for Chandos, the balance between them is exactly right. The baritone Michael Nagy is the Prisoner, with the tenor Stephan Rügamer as the Jailer/Inquisitor, while Anna Maria Chiuri is powerfully effective as the Mother.
This week’s other pick
First performed in 1960, Der Prinz von Homburg was Hans Werner Henze’s third full-length opera. Based upon Heinrich von Kleist’s play about the idealistic prince whose aspirations clash with the harsh reality of military life, its economy and tautness seem a deliberate contrast to the lushness of the works that preceded it – the fairytale opera König Hirsch, and the ballet score for Frederick Ashton, Ondine. The new Capriccio recording, the first on CD apparently, comes from last year’s production at the Stuttgart Staatsoper, conducted by Cornelius Meister. It’s by no means ideal – the recording balance is sometimes uneven, and so is the cast, even though Robin Adams is very impressive as the dreamy prince – but the score’s dramatic power certainly comes across.
