Turandot: finished but flawed
Puccini’s Turandot was “the end of the great tradition” of Italian opera. Ever popular, it is the grandest of them all, and yet it is deeply problematic. Set in a mythical China, at its simplest the tale concerns a Prince, Calaf, who wins the heart of the Princess of China, Turandot.
What: Turandot
Where: Royal Opera House, WC2
When: until 10th March
Price: Various
Puccini’s _Turandot _was “the end of the great tradition” of Italian opera. Ever popular, it is the grandest of them all, and yet it is deeply problematic. Set in a mythical China, at its simplest the tale concerns a Prince, Calaf, who wins the heart of the Princess of China, Turandot. However Turandot is proud – a symbol of the feminine of modern times, unwilling to make an object of herself through marriage. She has insulated herself from the world of men, and set a challenge; three riddles must be solved to win her hand, and the price of failure is death. The opera opens with the execution of an unfortunate prince, whose head is displayed with the many other trophies, yet somehow Calaf decides he has fallen in love with the icy Turandot.
Calaf’s love for this inaccessible, even frightening, woman is difficult to understand or empathise with. Perhaps it is a narcissistic one – as a minister tellingly warns him that “Turandot does not exist! Only the Nothingness in which you annihilate yourself!” The insightful and complex psychology of these two characters are the greatest strengths of this work, and as Calaf passes the riddles we await with great anticipation what musical illumination of the soul will occur for us, as the dismayed cold Turandot is thawed by Calaf’s love.
This is the point at which Puccini died of a heart attack, after undergoing cancer therapy in Brussels, and while the libretto was completed, this final, climatic scene was not. Based on his written notes, it is thought that Puccini – ever conscious of his contribution and place at the tail of the Italian tradition – had intended a rapturous transcendence comparable to that of Wagner’s Tristan or even a mystical transformation a la _Parsifal. _Others have proposed that Puccini was simply not capable of writing this immense psychology into his music, although in his final letters to the librettist he claimed to have the music already formed in his mind. Whatever the case might have been, the impossible task of completing the opera was given to another Italian, named Franco Alfano. The results are, to put it mildly, disappointing, and we must content ourselves with an unambiguously triumphant and simplistic ending which limits the power of this opera to emotional spectacle rather than piercing brilliance.
Whatever does exist of Turandot is presented brilliantly by the Royal Opera House. In this production, which is nearly 30 years old, the full spectacle is unleashed. The stage is beautifully designed with some stunningly vivid imagery, the hundreds of dancers and actors all fabulously costumed and the props give a very convincing ‘ancient China’ feel. Puccini’s mysterious grand score is played with practised and familiar, if perhaps a little careless, ease by the orchestra under Nicola Luisotti. While the cast was generally excellent as is typical, Alfred Kim in the role of Calaf was a little disappointing. Forgivably, he struggled with some of the diction, but his voice lacked charm and seemed as cold as the character of Turandot. The real delight of the evening was Ailyn Perez as Liu, Calaf’s adoring servant girl who sacrifices herself for him. Perez sang this role as a sweet, unassuming girl and with great beauty. For those of you who wish, despite its flaws, to see what Puccini’s final and grandest opera is all about, you are unlikely to find a much better production than this.
