Elvida was first given in Naples in 1826 for the birthday of the queen. This one-hour one-acter was just a portion of a gala evening and Donizetti was pretty sure it wouldn’t receive much attention despite the spectacular soloists–Méric-Lalande, Rubini, and Lablache–and he was right. He also didn’t think much of it, and he was close to right there too. The unimpressive plot involves (soprano) Elvida, a “noble Castilian maiden”, who is taken captive by a Moorish big shot (Amur, a bass), whose son Zeidar (mezzo, a travesty role) desires her. Elvida’s fiancé Alfonso (tenor) comes to her rescue, and when Amur tries to kill Elvida, Zeidar stops him, and the two Moors are allowed to go free as tenor and soprano rejoice.
Donizetti hoped that Rubini’s aria and a quartet near the opera’s close would impress the audience, and, along with the final duet with chorus–a series of ever-more difficult vocal variations–they are the strongest numbers in the score, although bel canto fans also will relish the mezzo-soprano duet early on. These aren’t great, original moments, but they’re tuneful and cannot help make an impression when the singing is as good as it is here.
Bruce Ford again proves that his sparkling high notes, agility, superb diction, and virile tone are remarkable. Jennifer Larmore uses a strong, manly tone to menace and woo Elvida, and Pietro Spagnoli’s confident, flowing bass is just right as Amur, with an ability to express anger while keeping the sound unexaggerated. At the opera’s center is soprano Annick Massis, who once more demonstrates that beautiful tone is possible throughout one’s entire range, at every dynamic level and in languid as well as highly decorated music. She and Ford knock several out of the park with their final theme and variations. Chorus and orchestra are excellent, and conductor Antonello Allemandi leads as if this were a masterpiece. In short, this is one of those operas that lovers of great singing will find irresistible, while detractors of bel canto can argue that the music and text seem not to have much to do with one another. Big deal–not everything is Otello.