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Ania Jeruc as Giovanna and Bror Magnus Tødenes as Carlo / Photo: Jonas Persson

Under-par Verdi can spring vividly to life under a skilful creative team. The composer’s problematic not-quite-historical opera Giovanna d’Arco, an early work four projects after Nabucco and two before Macbeth, has never been staged in the Nordic countries until now. A neglected Verdi masterpiece it is not. But that soon becomes irrelevant watching Philipp M Krenn’s production for Malmö Opera, eye-catchingly designed by Leslie Travers. Two hours of beautiful, bold theatre prove mightily effective at brushing the work’s shortcomings under the carpet.  

Those problems revolve mostly around Temistocle Solera libretto, which functions neither historically nor dramatically. The plot may unfold with alarming speed in operatic terms, but it plays havoc with our contemporary understanding of Joan of Arc, who doesn’t burn at the stake yet does involve herself romantically with the future King of France. Her final dash to the frontline to defeat the English, save the King, die on the battlefield, come back to life, commune with the spirits and ascend into heaven demands quite some suspension of disbelief.

What Verdi and Solera do give us is a portrait of a young woman torn between heaven and earth - between sacred duty and the comfort of sexual love. Krenn’s production capitalizes on Joan’s lack of definition in the text by homing in on those conflicts, drawing her almost as a lost teenager engrossed in a coming-of-age fairytale. A plastic sword and shield lie invitingly on the floor. When she takes them up, she is sucked into a world of snow-capped mountains and pop-up ceremonials.

The staging is powerfully austere, framed entirely by Travers’s squat box that fills the wide Malmö stage with cinematic breadth while containing it vertically. The chorus, heavily deployed by Verdi, becomes the set, forming resonant tableaux against a back wall doubling as a screen. When Joan communes with the offstage chorus ‘spirit voices’ only she can hear, an aerialist costumed in her image (Andrea Hilario) walks anti-gravitationally along the ceiling upside down, a breathtaking mirror image of her counterpart below. Much of the imagery is similarly striking, notably the opening scene portraying the Crown Prince’s crisis of confidence, exquisitely lit by Alessandro Carletti. Joan’s final ascent into heaven is perfectly judged: no special effects, just captivating symbolism.

Bror Magnus Tødenes and the Malmö Opera Choir / Photo Jonas Persson

Verdi’s score doesn’t deserve the harsh criticism it often gets. Sure, it lacks Nabucco’s momentum and melodic conviviality. But it has plenty of shapely, heartfelt arias, snappy choruses, a beguiling a cappella trio and an idiosyncratic exploration of woodwind and low brass sonorities, dispatched with supple beauty here by the Malmö Opera Orchestra. Had she slightly bigger voices, conductor Daniela Musca might be more brazen with the score, but she conducts with flexibility, internal vigour and an awareness of the Nabucco-style Italian band sonorities on which much of the music rests.

Ania Jeruc brings an enraptured quality to the title role, the evocative innocence in her voice able to blossom into a flamboyant but finely controlled coloratura. She is uncommonly impressive when floating top notes, though more consonants would be welcome. As Giacomo, her conspiracy-theorist father who must beg for forgiveness having condemned her as a witch, Fredrik Zetterström unfurls many of the opera’s best vocal lines in a gorgeous, warm legato even if his voice sounds a little worn these days. ‘Speme al vecchio era una figlia’ is rounded, rich and full of patience.

Bror Magnus Tødenes could use a little of that legato as the Crown Prince turned King. His voice has presence but has lost a little of its honeyed gleam and ability to open up, and needs more bravado here. The Malmö Opera Chorus sings with taut precision if it can sometimes sound too contained. More impressive is the high-level acting and movement its members deliver, using their bodies to become forests, storms and battles. After the powerful Turandot that ended last season, it’s good to see Malmö’s chorus centre-stage again, at the heart of a company that appears to be on a roll.