New York Classical Review

Andrea Chénier returned to the Metropolitan Opera on Monday evening after an absence of 11 years. Umberto Giordano’s tragedy requires three singers with the vocal chops and dramatic instincts to deliver its soaring vocal lines and seething passions. The Met has assembled such a cast, and with Daniele Rustioni in the pit, the audience was swept up in a riveting performance of Giordano’s most enduring creation.

The opera is set during the final days of the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution, a period when tens of thousands were executed. The poet Andrea Chénier, upon whom the opera is based, was guillotined 48 hours before the Reign of Terror ended. While Andrea Chénier features other historical figures, the aristocrat Maddalena di Coigny, who serves as Chénier’s muse and joins him in death, and Carlo Gérard, a former servant turned revolutionary, are both fictional. 

Nicholas Joël’s production, which premiered in 1996, is historically rooted, efficient, and a bit stodgy. The glamour of the party at the Château de Coigny in the first act is supplied through sumptuous gold-hued period costumes. The women’s towering coiffures lean into the decadence of the ancien régime. The frivolity is interrupted by Chénier railing against tyranny and the suffering of the poor, and the subsequent appearance of rag-tailed, starving peasants, led by Gérard. All is reflected in a giant mirror that hovers over the stage.

The remaining scenes are set against a backdrop of massive gray stone walls. The courtroom of the Revolutionary Tribunal has benches for the judges and rows of seats for the bloodthirsty populace. In the St. Lazare Prison, where Chénier reads his final poem and Maddalena takes the place of a condemned young mother, the guillotine looms in the background. Massive gold columns on either side of the stage are the sole constant, as if Joël sought to preserve everything in amber.

Luciano Pavarotti was Chénier when the production premiered. The megastar tenor was 61, and critics noted that Pavarotti was past his prime, although he found success in the role. At 58, Piotr Beczała is in excellent vocal condition, and the role suits him perfectly. With his aloof, noble bearing, Beczała captured the poet’s revolutionary zeal and his regret that he has never experienced love. Once Maddalena reveals her love for the poet, Beczała’s Chénier was transformed vocally and physically. 

Giordano wrote four great arias, one in each act, for Chénier and terrific duets with Maddalena and Gérard, and Beczała sailed through all of them. “Un dì all’azzurro spazio” had a stilted quality appropriate for an aria also known as “L’improvviso”, but the tenor’s voice was molten gold and the high notes free and ringing. It was a pity that scattered applause erupted midway through the aria. By “Come un bel dì di maggio” in the final act, Beczała lathered on the legato and emotion, which none dared interrupt.

Sonya Yoncheva was a glamorous Maddalena, at first a frivolous, petulant daughter, later a woman transformed by tragedy and love. The soprano filled Giordano’s musical lines with lush sound and painted the emotions it conveyed through a fantastic array of vocal colors. In Maddalena’s Act II duet with Chénier, “Ecco l altare,” Yoncheva’s silvery vibrato paired with the violins to create a stunning effect. 

The emotion-laden cello introduction to “La mamma morta” presaged the carefully sculpted phrases in which Yoncheva related the terror of her mother’s death and the kindness of her former servant Bersi. When singing of her love for Chénier, Yoncheva’s voice became a blazing torrent of emotion, culminating in an effortless, shimmering high B that floated through the house.

Against such vocal and dramatic heights, however, Igor Golovatenko as Carlo Gérard all but stole the show with “Nemico della patria.” The baritone’s voice is solid granite, but supple enough to express the most subtle of emotions. In Gérard’s great aria, Golovatenko galvanized the audience with his tirade against the tyranny of the Revolutionary Tribunal and his futile defense of Chénier. Golovatenko received the longest and loudest ovation of the performance, although a fan tossed a large bouquet of red roses at Yoncheva during her solo bow, which actually landed on the stage.

The Met cast the numerous other characters essential to the plot with equal care. Siphokazi Molteno was a bright-voiced, high-spirited Bersi, while Olesya Petrova, as the blind Madelon, sacrificed her young grandson to serve France in the army with heart-rendering dignity. Guriy Gurev made an impressive debut as Roucher, Chénier’s friend, with his winning demeanor and impressive baritone. Equally vivid portrayals came from Alexander Birch Elliott as Fléville and Brenton Ryan’s Incredibile.

Rustioni is a commanding presence on the podium, conveying his intentions through expansive arm movements and the intensity of his facial expressions. The orchestra responded with playing that ranged from graceful, transparent sounds epitomizing the ancien régime, to thunderous, ominous utterances that manifested the horrors of the Reign of Terror. The best were the love-fueled waves of sound that transported Yoncheva and Beczała to such heights. 

In a season rich with must-see performances, add Andrea Chénier to the list.

Andrea Chénier runs through December 13. metopera.org