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That Il Viaggio exists at all today is due to some masterful cobbling activity by the Rossini Foundation, based in Pesaro, the composer’s birthplace, which reassembled the score from scattered manuscripts and produced the famous performance I saw in 1984, under Claudio Abbado with an all-star cast. Brave souls, even of less than all-star quality, have kept the work in circulation since that illustrious resurrection, but the recording of that event remains to shame them all, and so it was last weekend. I heard pretty voices, a lively orchestra under Christopher Larkin, an ensemble cast deployed by director Casey Stangl (honest!) around Allen Moyer’s serviceable but bland stage set in the airless Lobero Theater. I didn’t hear a single trill in proper Rossinian style, or a long and lovely phrase delivered with a sense of line with shading and blossoming and shape. In the audience sat the great Marilyn Horne, who is the Music Academy’s Voice Program director in the tradition of the school’s founding divinities Lotte Lehmann, Martial Singher and Maurice Abravanel. I’m sure she knew how much ground had been covered in presenting this altogether pleasant evening of opera, and how much ground remained to be covered.?
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