After the triumphant opening of Zoraida di Granata in Rome, the relatively unknown 24-year-old composer left the theatre in a carriage, accompanied by a military band along a road illuminated by torches in his honour, and Donizetti’s career was effectively launched.
Almuzir has seized the throne of Granada and wants to marry Zoraida, but she loves the general Abenamet, so Almuzir has him framed for treason. Abenamet escapes, but after he returns in disguise and reveals the deception, the people rise up against the upstart king. Abenamet unexpectedly defends him, and in return, Almuzir allows the couple to marry, while hanging onto the crown.
This production was a joint enterprise with Wexford Opera Festival, the Irish venue having presented Donizetti’s original 1822 version in 2023, the Bergamo festival his substantially revised 1824 version a year later. Director Bruno Ravella sets the piece not in Granada of 1480, but in another predominantly Moslem city under siege, Sarajevo in 1992, specifically in the ruins of its Moorish-style National Library.
The early work shows flashes of the great things to come, with ensembles that build in forcefulness, contrasting arias that tax the performer and deeper characterisation than in his earlier operas, such as in Almuzir’s vacillation between remorse and revenge.
Korean tenor Konu Kim, the only member of the cast who also appeared in the Wexford production, is expressive throughout and brings out the intensity of Almuzir’s mental torment, rising from a solid lower register to a ringing high A that makes the senses tingle.
His earlier duet with Cecilia Molinari’s Abenamet—a role Donizetti rewrote for contralto after his tenor died—is a highlight, her double-cream mezzo a constant delight, and to her falls the honour of the concluding aria, culminating in a bravura flourish, as the library’s beautiful stained-glass window emerges restored, a symbol of forgiveness over hatred.
Soprano Zuzana Markova shows her agility and versatility from a challenging opening number with its large leaps, to sweet, smooth legato in a plaintive romanza, daringly written with what sounds like just a string trio for accompaniment.
Three students of the Bottega Donizetti complete a fine cast, Lilla Takacs, who deserves better material than the mundane number for Zoraida’s slave Ines, Tuty Hernandez as Abenamet’s confederate and the superb bass Valerio Morelli as Almuzir’s even more villainous henchman, a fine actor blessed with a powerful and resonant voice.
Unlike Rossini, Verdi and Bellini, Donizetti took a long time to achieve a maturity of style, not arguably until his 25th opera, Il Castello di Kenilworth, and Zoraida, his fifth, is not the finished article. Much of the writing sounds routine and the work lacks the urgency of later pieces, a feeling amplified by some leisurely tempi by conductor Alberto Zanardi and the Orchestra Gli Originali, playing period instruments.
This nevertheless is an enjoyable and welcome rediscovery, with excellent performances to justify its reappearance, if not its reinstatement in the repertoire.