I puritani e i cavalieri (I puritani)
Opera in three acts
Libretto by Carlo Pepoli
Music by Vincenzo Bellini
New production - Co-production with Teatro Regio di Torino
BY VINCENZO BELLINI
I puritani e i cavalieri (I puritani)
Opera in three acts
Libretto by Carlo Pepoli
Music by Vincenzo Bellini
New production - Co-production with Teatro Regio di Torino
Conductor
Matteo Beltrami
Director
Fabio Ceresa
Scenes
Tiziano Santi
Costumes
Giuseppe Palella
Orchestra and Choir of the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino
Giorgio Valton
Gianluca Buratto/ Riccardo Zanellato (30/01, 01-04/02)
Elvira, daughter of Gualtiero
Jessica Pratt / Maria Aleida (01-04-10 /02)
Riccardo
Massimo Cavalletti / Julian Kim (01-04-10 /02)
Lord Arturo Talbo
Antonino Siragusa / Jésus Léon (01-04-10 /02)
Enrichetta
Rossana Rinaldi / Martina Belli (01-04-10/ 02)
How much time elapses between the first and third acts of the Puritans? A little more than thirty minutes for the viewer. Three months, according to Arthur. But even three centuries to Elvira, which dilates the moments of waiting until exasperation.
The first rays of the sun which penetrate the darkness at the beginning of the operas are then transformed into a physical phenomenon that relativizes the time, moving on separate rails the different characters of the drama. Arthur, who chooses politics instead of love, moves away from the world in a kind of astral travel, for those which he believes to be just a few days.
But for those who remain, for Elvira, time flows differently. How many things can happen in three hundred years? Time has brought down the towers of the castle, has uncovered the roof, shattered the windows, crumbled stones until they become dust. Day after day, the skin of the hands has withered, has withdrawn showing the bones: the characters become old, dead, restless ghosts suspended in a dimension somewhere between night and dawn, between wakefulness and sleep, like ghosts condemned to eternal fight in the same battle.
Subverted the rules of nature, man just have to find within himself the strength to be able to restore the order of things. The repentance of Richard, the release of Arthur, the light in the mind of Elvira; every action is a child of a single ideal: pardoning.
Pardon announced by the ringing of the brass that opens and closes the opera. The trumpet calls souls to eternal salvation, to that universal judgment that sets men free from the shackles of space and time. The paroxysmal waiting for redemption finally comes to its end: through forgiveness, spirits can leave the shadows and hover like sparks of pure light, driven forever to eternity in heaven.