Verdi’s Riveting ‘Forza’ Suffers in Closeup

The revisions Verdi made in several of his operas are studies in maturity. The changes could be as small as the addition of a single note in a chord or as major as the addition of whole new scenes. In the case of “La Forza del Destino,” a new ending transformed a sensationalist melodrama of double murder and suicide--the force of destiny--into a substantive statement about the human condition and the need for redemption.

If for no other reason than to learn how to find universal meaning in pulp fiction, it is useful to occasionally encounter the rare original versions of Verdi operas well known in their final revisions. With “Forza,” which had its premiere at the Maryinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg in 1862, there is also the pleasure of witnessing a work that might seem laughably emotional at times but has a dramatic rawness that the later La Scala revision removed. And it is the St. Petersburg version that PBS is broadcasting tonight, in a performance taped two years ago by the Kirov Opera in the Maryinsky and conducted by Valery Gergiev.

The production, by British director Elijah Moshinsky, is a literal representation of the illicit love between Leonora, a Spanish noblewoman, and Alvaro, also of noble heritage but with socially unacceptable Inca blood. After Alvaro accidentally kills her father, Leonora’s brother, Carlo, storms across Spain in a murderous rage seeking the lovers. The well-fed singers are very Russian in their overemotional response to all this. Gergiev conducts with the theatrical intensity for which he is justifiably famous.

This “Forza” can be both amusing and riveting, what with the grippingly dramatic singing and theatrics verging on camp. But it is appalling television. Put the lens up close to these singers attempting to project to a distant audience, and they appear like exaggerated silent-movie actors. Focus in on their screwed-up faces and open mouths, and you draw attention to makeup (dreadful) and sweat. Painted sets and stage lighting lose their magic on the screen. The video director, Brian Large, dulls impact further by cutting squarely, predictably, to a foursquare beat.

And then there is pudgy Galina Gorchakova, singing Leonora with convincing intensity but visually magnified beyond credibility, especially when, plastered in makeup, she attempts to disguise herself as a boy. The camera is no kinder to Gegam Gregorian, the equally fervid and pudgy Alvaro. Nikolai Putilin, yet another effective singer undone by television, telegraphs, as Carlo, little more visually than a maniac from a budget ‘50s horror film. Marianna Tarasova, the gypsy Preziosilla, is slightly more telegenic, as is Georgy Zastavny, the comic friar, Melitone, but neither is well directed. Such would not be a problem in the Maryinsky, but on television it will hardly halt the channel surfer.

And then there is PBS. Three acts and three hours of opera are screened in succession, with only a hasty advertising break between. Ears, however, need an intermission. The power of music is further diminished by PBS’ junk jingles as lead-ins to Verdi.

Those interested in “Forza” will overlook everything for the intrigue of a version without famous overture and a grisly rather than redemptive finale, or for a visual supplement to the CD set of the opera the company made in 1995 (with mostly the same cast), and they will know to set their VCRs. But I can’t imagine that this careless broadcast will help tap the wider audience for opera that may well be out there for the tapping.

*

* “La Forza del Destino” airs tonight at 8 on KCET-TV.