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By: Marion DS Dreyfus
FEDORA? That 1898 opera, composed by Umberto Giordano of Foggia,in southern Italy, that few save aficionados can lay claim to having heard of. What usually springs to mind, of course, is the eponymously natty topper.
That may largely be due to its rarity on the boards, since it last appeared to opera lovers 25 years ago. Traviata, Aida, Carmen, Rigolletto and the rest of the beloved opera canon are almost daily commuters, compared with that.
And when you do hear the word, in 2023, you wonder why people are talking of paying high ticket for a brimmed, felted usually male chapeau. Bernhardt played both male and female roles in her stellar career, the premier performer of roles in plays, operas and events onstage. When Fedora was composed, the star planned for its presentation was the famed, boundary-bursting Jewish-French actress, Sarah Bernhardt. She brought worldwide audiences to their feet, a favorite of royals, counts and dukes alike. When she went onstage in this opera– at 54–in fact, she wore a fetching felted brimmed hat that afterwards became known as a fedora because of Bernhardt’s lively enactment onstage.
(Most are surprised about that backwards-seeming factoid, too.)
Now voluptuously staged at Lincoln Center’s Metropolitan Opera venue, Fedora hasn’t been seen since 1997, almost a lifetime in theatrical terms.
A classic story with some alteration, the libretto tells of a Russian princess’ betrothed being killed, setting her to mourning—at least until she meets the assassin of her now-dead fiancé. Wouldn’t you know it—she falls madly in love with this unexpected swain.
The stage is lushly outfitted with three captivating sets and even more alluring costumes, especially the furbelowed ladies dancing, lilting and gracing the lit on goings.
Although some colleagues did not find her wonderful, my escort and I were entranced with the acting presence and vocalizations of the Met’s Sonya Yoncheva, soprano, onstage almost nonstop through the three long acts, and the tenor, playing Count Loris, Piotr Beczala, also in fine voice for the dramatic evening’s offering. Conducting seamlessly: Marco Armiliato.
We were privileged with excellent seats, with subtitles nicely displayed on the seatback ahead of each, should we not glom onto the Italian without assistance,
Despite the rarity of the production—or perhaps because of it—the hall was packed, even the five boxed tiers.
No hat in the air to wait another score – plus years for the next such delice.
