The eternal magic of Espert

Yesterday, for the fourth time in 24 years, the emblematic production of Turandot by Núria Espert and the now-deceased scenographer and costume designer Ezio Frigerio took to the stage at the Gran Teatre Liceu.

Oliver Thansan
Oliver Thansan
26 November 2023 Sunday 10:39
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The eternal magic of Espert

Yesterday, for the fourth time in 24 years, the emblematic production of Turandot by Núria Espert and the now-deceased scenographer and costume designer Ezio Frigerio took to the stage at the Gran Teatre Liceu. A set-up that was chosen to reopen the Coliseum saved from flames in 1999 and which, according to the fervent reaction of the public yesterday – seven minutes of final applause with cheers and bravos – has stood the test of time very well. And it incorporates the resurgence of post-Olympic Barcelona, ​​of "All'alba vincerò" Catalonia.

"It's very alive!" said the artistic director, Víctor García de Gomar, still excited by the fleeting reunion that Espert held as a surprise on Thursday with the staff of the Liceu and with the artists. The 89-year-old actress and director took advantage of her day off in the middle of a tour to burst backstage moments before the pre-dress rehearsal took place, and embraced exultantly with her granddaughter, Bárbara Lluch, the repositor, and with the councilwoman, Xesca Llabrés, who was already there a quarter of a century ago.

This is how Núria Espert rediscovered a large part of the costumes of the monumental Turandot, which her granddaughter has updated by removing covers or cages, and the frontal faces of the actors/singers... A trunk of memories that Espert shares with the high school audience when she relives the film enthusiasm with which Barcelona recovered its opera house.

That Puccini from the back of the wardrobe serves both at the Liceu to celebrate birthdays – it was rested in 2005 and when it was a decade since the reopening, in 2009 – and, this time, to attract a large audience on pre-Christmas dates and at dawn of the 25th anniversary of the reopening and of the Puccini year. Last night the full house was one hundred percent of the capacity. And, since it started in the middle of the afternoon, there was no rush or desertion at the final applause, with soprano Elena Pankratova as a powerful Turandot – and this was not her best day for the trebles of “In questa reggia” – ; Michael Fabiano, as the hard-working Prince Calaf who has the world watching him when he intones “Nessun dorma”; Vannina Santoni, in the grateful role of the slave Liù (“Chi posse tanta forza nel tuo cuore?” asks Turandot, “Principessa, l’amore”, she replies); or the memorable tenor of Marko Mimica, which compensated for the total lack of voice of the historical Siegfried Jerusalem in the role of the old emperor.

The theater's orchestra and choir, with the Children's Choir of the Orfeó Català, much applauded, submitted to the baton of the Mexican Alondra de la Parra, who, perhaps because it was her first Turandot, opted for a more of a cinematographic musical style, careful, but lacking the expressly Puccini style. But it didn't matter. The public enjoyed a grandiloquent pre-Christmas night.

Turandot is always a winning title. Through the force of the music, the exoticism and grandiloquence of post-verism is added to which the composer had entered at the end of his days, with plots that would move away from contemporary customs (the attic of La bohème or the church of Tosca ) to recreate historical periods such as that of medieval Florence by Gianni Schicchi (1918) or that of this imperial China that recreates Turandot (1926), for which it would be based on one of the Persian tales of One Thousand and One Days. Which tells the story of Prince Calaf (an exiled Tartar) who submits to the three riddles with which the cruel Chinese princess subdues the suitors. If they don't get them right, they die.

– I, this production, remembered it as a great traveling Chinese restaurant, but now I see it more vintage than demodée.

- Yes, it works well. And after so much modern production, a classic montage is appreciated in which what happens is what is there.

The conversation between two armchair neighbors reminded me yesterday of Roger Alier's criticism in La Vanguardia (from 8/X/1999). The now dead historian agreed that "there was something, on the emperor's throne, that approached the Chinese restaurant - he continued -, but without falling into it. However, the overall effect was good and the truth is that it was a Turandot that was fun."

So, in the end, Alier would have been happy yesterday to see that the icy Turandot no longer prefers to commit suicide before surrendering to the prince who has defeated her in his riddles. Espert has dispensed with his twist, which contrasted with the glories of love and happiness sung by the chorus during this finale that Puccini left unfinished and signed by Franco Alfano. The curmudgeonly princess is once again tamed by her prince... A fact that, seen in retrospect, makes one miss the initial audacity of Espert, which was seconded by other directors, such as Àlex Ollé.