READ MORE IN ENGLISH (translated from French) :
« An hour and three quarters in full voice [without intermission]. And eight encores, we really say eight... It might have seemed a routine recital given for a festival with generous patrons, in a Swiss postcard setting, ancient chalets, sugar-coated peaks, luxury hotels. Nothing like that. It was a kind of happening, performed by an artist with a probity and a commitment, that were not only exemplary but also moving. A way of unbridled headlong or valiant heart (...to which nothing is impossible...) […] Is there anything left to prove? You'd better believe it. And first of all, that at fifty-nine years of age (apologies for this rather cheeky reminder), he has a voice of insolent health and an overwhelming projection. Especially when you‘re sitting in the front row of this church in Saanen, […] where the Gstaad New Yer Music Festival and its soul, Caroline Murat had set up their headquarters.
An impeccable silhouette and a perfect tuxedo, a young man's haircut (very shaved on the sides, with an almost always slightly rebellious lock of hair), Roberto Alagna, who was first a lyric tenor (and what a one!) seems to be getting closer and closer to a dramatic tenor. His timbre is immediately recognisable and very distinctive, not suffering from any baritone haze like some of his famous and no less admirable colleagues.
Clarity, brilliance, support of the singing line, homogeneity, legato supported by an unwavering mastery of breath, warmth (nothing metallic), sovereign technique, diction that has become proverbial, apparent ease (concealing a work that one imagines to be constant, secret, assiduous, exhausting) and, above all, a generosity, pleasure of giving, joy in singing, a certain kind of sincerity, an overflowing affectivity. […]
It was undoubtedly Eleazar‘s aria by Halévy that proved most suited to his current voice. Previously, it has seemed a little oversized for the aria "Du moment qu'on aime" from Grétry's Zémire et Azor, no matter how bright the high notes were, not to mention an impeccably connected vocal line. Similarly, in Aubade from Le Roi d'Ys it was the opening mezza voce ("Puisqu'on ne peut fléchir ces jalouses gardiennes..."), the charming notes in the mixed voice, the light of the endlessly held A, the final note on "mourir" performed in a half-voice, that really seemed to us to be in the spirit of this elegant aria, once so famous.
But from "Rachel, quand du Seigneur" onwards, the demonstration became truly brilliant: the nobility of phrasing, the embodiment of the character (a father sacrificing his daughter), the solidity of the lower register, the considerable firepower (the decibels, in other words), a descending vocalisation in full voice and the subsequent transition to the mixed voice, the homogeneity of the registers - in short, an impressive technical lesson, but also (and above all!) a sincerity, an honesty that sweeps the listener away, to which is added the maturity that the years have given to this aria, which the tenor included in his repertoire very early on.
French grand opera now seems to be Alagna's chosen land. His Samson, like his Eleazar, has appeared on stage, notably in Orange in 2021, as we all remember. We admire the sobriety in the pathos, the impeccable declamatory taste, the dignity and the great style in the aria "Vois ma misère", written for a dramatic tenor who converses with the chorus in the wings. The hero, blinded, chained, alone in his prison, speaks to the God who has abandoned him.
We have not forgotten the image of Alagna lying on the ground, singing the end of the aria with his face pressed to the floor in the centre of the Théâtre antique. Of course, there is no chorus here (in Gstaad). The only things that remain are the sovereign diction, the breath, the timbre, the long phrases, the grandeur of the plea "D’Israël détourne tes coups et je proclame ta justice!“ („Turn away thy wounds from Israel, and I proclaim Thy righteousness!“)
This nobility is heard again in Lensky's aria "Kuda, Kuda...". During the long introduction, played on the piano by Morgane Fauchois, Alagna meditatively observes the huge choir of the Saanen church before launching into the famous "Kuda, kuda", first in a mixed voice, then moving into a chest voice. The whole aria will be conducted in this way, between one and the other, between confidence and despair, between interiority and great romantic lyricism, in a constant variety of registers, feelings, dynamics between the half-tones and piena voce (full voice), which Tchaikovsky demands, without ever being sentimental, but with, to return to these words, a nobility and grandeur and a technique so sure that it can be forgotten for "Akh, Olga, ya tebya lyubil! " („Oh, Olga, I have loved you!“) with heartbreaking sincerity.
THE WAGNER OF THE LATINS:
In Lohengrin's farewell, of course, his Latin voice works wonders, whether it's "O Elsa! Nur ein Jahr an deiner Seite" with its Italian-style lyricism, the fullness of "Kommt er dann heim" or the perfect flavour of "Leb wohl, mein süsses Weib", but we have to admit, even knowing that Alagna sang this role on the stage of the Berlin State Opera in December 2020, that we would love to hear him sing the French version of "Mein lieber Schwan", "Mon cygne aimé...", previously made famous by Georges Thill.
Roberto Alagna included the aria from Le Cid " Ô souverain, ô juge, ô père", much-loved by lirico spinto tenors, among his bravura pieces. Here we admire the a cappella introduction with its impeccable precision, the sovereign diction (these nasal diphthongs which he handles without problem), this subtle interweaving of virtuosic diminuendos, the twisted notes, then overwhelming fortissimos, but above all the way of never cheating, of being entirely present, of singing every bar as if his life depended on it.
Mario sings his farewell to life in the third act of Tosca. Roberto Alagna in his "E lucevan le stelle", the only Italian sheet of the evening, gave a great lesson in legato, lyricism, meticulous respect for the score and also in melancholy, which inevitably led to the first of many standing ovations.
We've learned that he has prepared at least five encores with his pianist, the accomplished Morgane Fauchois. So from the sixth one, we were going to start being surprised...
The first was Ave Maria by Schubert, sung with sincerity, real fervour and, it seemed to us, deep melancholy.
Then, as if liberated, joyful, he launched into an anthology of Neapolitan songs, sung at the top of his lungs, with cheeky ease, with a smile in his voice, all interspersed with the words "Do you want more? ", "Tell me, when you're tired" or " I take advantage of it, because from tomorrow, I switch to Al Capone" (a musical written for him by Jean Felix Lalanne and soon to be staged at the Folies-Bergère).
These delights include Leoncavallo's "Au clair de la lune, mon gentil Pierrot" or Les Millions d’Arlequin, deliciously quaint ("Mais ce n’était qu’un songe d’amour / Oh le divin mensonge d’un jour, trop court…“ / "But it was only a dream of love / Oh divine lie of a day too short..."), which Alagna sings with the same elegance as the great repertoire...
The final “Funiculì, funiculà” which he had the audience take over (and which proved to be relatively approximate), completed the melting of the hall and especially of his female fans, all those young women on whom tenor voices, especially this one, still seems to have an astounding effect. »