Considering that Don Carlos isn't performed all that often, the work is surprisingly well represented on record. Classic recordings with Solti, Giulini, Haitink, Karajan and Santini helped to bring the opera back into the limelight after a dearth of performances in the early twentieth century. The DVD age has also brought Antonio Pappano's five-act French version, Riccardo Muti's four-act Italian version from La Scala and Herbert von Karajan's four-act Italian version from Salzburg (the latter with the incomparable Agnes Baltsa as Eboli).
August of this year saw the release of Riccardo Chailly's DVD recording of the four-act Italian version from Amsterdam; last week the classic Visconti production of the five-act Italian version from Covent Garden came to DVD.
This latest release of the five-act Italian version from the Met, however, offers the most complete version of the text on DVD in any language, incorporating the Fontainebleau act (plus the opening chorus which Pappano omits). Full marks for that, though I'm somewhat baffled by the division of the work into three acts (this was never an option endorsed by Verdi). After the recent disaster of Welsh National Opera's new production of the French version, it's nice to be able to watch a Don Carlo which is both musically and dramatically sensitive to the needs of the text.
It seems likely that the director, John Dexter, and set designer, David Reppa, consulted Verdi's Disposizione Sceniche or production books for the original production of the opera, because the direction nearly always follows the directions in the libretto to the letter. How nice to have an atmospheric prison scene, a lavish study for the King, and a dominating tomb for the final act, for a change! I find the forest of Fontainebleau rather two-dimensional by contrast, strangely under-populated by trees. And Carlo's short, formal court costume seems a bit ridiculous for a cold snow-ridden forest climate, but after WNO's miserable effort almost anything seems acceptable.
This production originated in 1979, but the film comes from a performance on 26 March 1983. Those were the days of all-star casts, and this team of singers includes four of the all-time greats.
Mirella Freni stars as Elisabetta, who is betrothed in the first act to Don Carlo but ends up married to his father Filippo, the king. This is a monumental performance, and my personal highlight. The role lies just a little high for Freni, but I found a surprising heftiness in her vocal reserves. This was Freni's only run of performances in the role at the Met (the film preserves the last of these), perhaps indicating that she was uncomfortable with it. However, she brings such nobility to the character, such poignancy and dignity to the scene where she bids farewell to her lady-in-waiting, for instance, and such stamina in the big Act V aria, that the DVD is worth purchasing for Freni alone.
Many of the same comments could be made about the Don Carlo, Plàcido Domingo. Ravishing tone and an heroic performance are only rarely impaired by the tessitura, which was always fractionally high for him. The final duet is magical, however, and compared to most of his rivals on DVD, Domingo's assumption of the role is remarkable.
Grace Bumbry is the stirring Princess Eboli. The character’s consumption with jealousy reaches an almost Iago-like zenith in this interpretation, spitting out her words with venom in the Act III scene when Eboli is devastated to find that Carlo's declaration of love is directed at Elisabetta and not her.
Freni's real-life husband and on-stage husband are one and the same in this performance. The Bulgarian bass Nicolai Ghiaurov brings ideal tone and a commanding presence to the role, excelling more in the dramatic encounters with Rodrigo and Elisabetta than in his aria, however.
Louis Quilico is mildly disappointing as Rodrigo, Marquis of Posa. He is vocally bland, and dramatically conveys none of the aristocratic edge that is apparent in Sherrill Milnes' great assumption of the role, for instance.
Ferruccio Furlanetto is a sinister Inquisitor; Betsy Norden a slightly shrill Tebaldo; and Julien Robbins a big-voiced Carlo V.
The Met chorus is in great form at the start, though there is a lack of power in the auto-da-fé scene (the audience's lukewarm reaction at this point confirms it). James Levine is more focussed and less woolly than he often is in these Met DVDs (witness his dull Simon Boccanegra compared to Solti’s sharp ROH version), leading his huge forces from the front.
Probably the best version now available, even if other sets are more impressive in certain aspects. It's a must for the Verdi collector, however, because of the completeness of the text.
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