Two essays introduce the recording, one called ‘Rediscovering a masterpiece’, the other much the same but emphasizing the surprise of it. This has had nearly 30 years in which to wear a little thin, for the discovery was made in 1970 at Boston. Another score, but this one in Donizetti’s own hand, was subsequently found in Palermo, and possibly more surprises lie in wait when the imminent studio recording is released by Opera Rara). Meanwhile, to its credit, Seville’s Teatro de la Maestranza opened its 1998 season with what in all probability was the first stage production since the first run in 1826. At that time the music appears to have been liked well enough, but not the libretto. Donizetti may have been resigned to the work’s oblivion, as he ‘borrowed’ at least two numbers for later operas and is not known to have lamented the loss of a masterpiece.
Certainly his contemporaries need no apology for being unimpressed by the drama. The family feud of Abencerrages and Zegries provides a fifteenth-century background, with opportunities for the four main characters to experience familiar emotions in the face of familiar difficulties. The plot takes an edifying turn when the King, Muley-Hassem, lives up to his reputation as a thoroughly decent fellow, pardoning the enemy within his power and thus gaining an ally. There is also a certain pathos in the heroine’s bewilderment as the twists of fortune prepare her for a Mad scene of which she is then happily bereft. Some of the implausibility is Donizetti’s fault, for he fails to make anything of a potentially moving Recognition scene and gives the villain such a harmless succession of good tunes that we can’t believe there’s much villainy in him.
Nevertheless, as with so many of these rediscovered pieces, the merits are sufficient to warrant a revival, and this one has been more lucky than some in the quality of its soloists. Patrizia Pace is a sympathetic heroine, pure in tone, delicate in style; Vivica Genaux’s mezzo may not be intended by nature for the Marilyn Horne manner to which it is sometimes subjected, but her singing has character; the tenor Juan Diego Florez is splendid, and one to watch; Simone Alaimo brings sonorous authority. All seem well able to cope with the technical challenges. The sound, occasionally disadvantaged by live recording, is clear and the orchestral work adequate. A further pleasure is afforded by the English translation, which renders the general consternation at the end of Act 1 with ‘What is going to happen, my goodness?’ and in the conspiracy duet signs off (‘Addio’) with ‘So long’.'