Tenth-century Italy. Adelaide, widow of Lotario, King of Italy, has taken refuge in the castle of Canosso after the murder of her husband by Berengario. The throne can be hers again if she is willing to accept the hand in marriage of Berengario's son Adalberto. She refuses, choosing to pin her hopes on rescue by her would-be ally, the German Emperor Ottone. It is, as you will see, a grey story set in grey and distant times. There are secco recitatives to sit through and an imperial hero en travesti. Yet Adelaide di Borgogna is a distinctive piece with its own distinctive character.
It was written for Rome's Teatro Argentina in December 1817, so it dates from Rossini's Neapolitan period, a truant commission, wedged between Armida and Mose in Egitto. Even if one did not know the date, the opera would be identifiable by other means. The carefully worked orchestral writing, the extended use of the chorus, and a certain lofty sobriety of utterance all suggest that operas like Maometto II and Semiramide are imminent possibilities. Listen to the duet ''Pur mi lice una volta'' towards the end of Act 1 of Adelaide di Borgogna and, as the lady says in Shakespeare, you will feel the future in the instant. There is no undertow of eroticism, but in many other respects Adelaide and Ottone sound not unlike Semiramide and Arsace.
This is the opera's first commercial recording based on what is almost certainly the first fully staged revival in modern times. I say first 'commercial' recording because private LP pressings were available at one time of an historic Pro Opera/Donizetti Society concert performance given in the Queen Elizabeth Hall in November 1978. It was a fine performance—Della Jones, Eiddwen Harrhy, Ernesto Palacio and Roderick Earle headed the cast—but even to the most dedicated Rossinian the LPs, dimly and distantly recorded were barely adequate, even as an aide memoire.
Technically, the new Fonitcetra recording is more than adequate. You don't always get the highest fidelity from live recordings—and this one appears to have been alfresco too—but, in the circumstances, it all works out pretty well despite the somewhat backward orchestral sound. As does the casting. I don't care for the Adalberto of the somewhat strident-sounding Aldo Bertolo but Mariella Devia is a pleasing Adelaide and Martine Dupuy a really rather distinguished Ottone. (Until the final scene where she seems to tire.) It is a token of the care both women have taken with their roles that they treat the potentially dull recitatives with real affection.
Above all, Alberto Zedda conducts the opera not only with evident commitment but also with a strong feel for its peculiar character and mood. Adelaide di Borgogna may not be in the first or even the second division of Rossini operas. After this recording, though, it merits a place on any promotion short list.
The set comes with a complete Italian text and useful background notes on the work and its performing editions (the autograph manuscript is lost) by Zedda himself and by Rodolfo Celletti who claims to have put Zedda up to undertaking this festive revival. The notes are in English and Italian, but there is no English libretto, and no synopsis. Since the production was sponsored by, of all people, the British Council, this is an oversight about which I feel we are entitled to feel particularly aggrieved.'