Bianca and Falliero, are they Eduardo and Cristina, Tancredi and Amenaide, Otello and Desdemona, Malcolm and Elena? All these Rossinian operatic couples have in common the fact that their love is opposed by her father, who demands of his daughter a marriage of convenience. In most cases the father usually imposes this demand while her lover, who is a courageous but less influential soldier, is either absent or is shortly due to return. The situations are the same: the young hero returns from foreign parts, happy and thrilled to be setting foot on home soil, but above all longing to see his beloved once again. She meanwhile awaits him no less longingly but is admittedly full of worries about their unsuitable love relationship.

But both of our eponymous heroes are blithely unaware of this in their opening arias: Falliero thoroughly enjoys his status as the saviour of his fatherland and wastes not a single thought on his beloved, while in her aria Bianca is untroubled and looks forward happily to their reunion. Perhaps it is the serenity of a love that has already been consummated? This interpretation could strengthen the theory that, between the lines, Romani wanted to address the premarital non-platonic romantic attachment. In Rossini's score Falliero's explicit assertion of the affirmation of his rights to Bianca in the first finale reads: "A me si diede" ("She gave herself to me"), while in the published libretto: "La fé mi diede" ("She gave me her fidelity"), apparently an act of censorship.

Furthermore, Contareno is not a father in the manner of Carlo, Argirio, Elmiro or Douglas. In contrast to the intimidating harshness of these traditional fathers Contareno juxtaposes blatant threats with wheedling entreaties. When Bianca buckles for a first time at his aria (something which she will do several times in the course of the opera), it is due to his wide expressive palette, such as is not found in that of the other fathers.

We don't know whether Felice Romani, the official dramatist at La Scala in Milan, had such a concept in mind when he brought the subject matter to Rossini's attention. Be that as it may, on 31st August 1819 Rossini replied from Naples: "I like the topic. You, good soul, will certainly come up with something to revel in. Be efficient and give me a canvas, so that I can pick the colours to muck it up." It seems that this thoroughly graphic simile immediately inspired Romani. In her opening aria Bianca imagines to herself how the garland of flowers, intended for Falliero as symbols of her love and fidelity, will dazzle in all its colours. Was it an accident or rather an act of political subversion—alongside the afore-mentioned issue of morality—that Romani chose, of all things, the colours of the Italian tricolour, the symbol of the suppressed independence movement (whereas he explicitly mentioned none of the three colours red, white and green!)? Rossini was no less happy with the libretto itself, as he wrote to his mother on 10th November from Milan: "The libretto of my new opera is good and I will do all I can to provide it with music which is worthy of me."

Rossini applied his colours to a virtuosity of a highly charged expressivity, which seems even to outdo the vocal style which he wrote for Naples, and to a rich, often surprising use of harmony, (for example right at the beginning when, following the chorus in the introduction in a charming waltz-like melody in 12/8, an atonal-seeming seventh chord in semiquavers is hammered out).

More than two years went by between the first offer of the commission for Bianca e Falliero and its première (in other instances, such as L'Italiana in Algeri or Il barbiere di Siviglia, it was barely two months). Following the success of La gazza ladra the Scala impresario Angelo Petracchi and Rossini fell out with one another, for unknown reasons. The reconciliation took place in Milan but Petracchi wouldn't let the matter rest. On 8th October 1817 he sent the composer in Naples a witty "love letter" and put his money where his mouth was with a specific request: "I offer you the first opera for the 1818/19 Carnival."

Rossini, who was already in correspondence with other theatrical agents from Lisbon and St Petersburg, did not respond to the blandishment. It was not until Petracchi sent him a copy of the letter on 4th March 1818 that Rossini responded by return. We may assume that in his letter of 16th March he replied just as wittily, but he was uncompromising in dictating his terms: postponement (of the opera) to the Carnival of the 1819/20 season and a fee appropriate for him (the "only" Rossini, as he wrote elsewhere); eventually he received more than La Scala had ever paid to the most prestigious of composers. (Paër and Weigl each received 400 gold ducats, Rossini 450 or, it was rumoured, even 550). For that reason he was due to be in Lombardy's capital from September 1819. Rossini was aware of the significance of Milan as this melting-pot of Italian and German culture, his reason for requesting postponement of a year to allow him time to write the opera. At this time he was still free in the autumn and would have had enough time to come to grips with the current trends in Milan at close quarters, as he had always done there. But things turned out differently: the Prussian King Friedrich Wilhelm lll inadvertently put a spoke in his wheel. The King summoned Gaspare Spontini to Berlin and appointed him "General Music Director of the Royal Music" and took on the costs of the breach of his contract with Naples, for which Spontini was to write an opera in autumn 1819. Barbaja, impresario of the Teatro di San Carlo, begged Rossini to step into the breach, who asked Petracchi for deferral of his journey to north Italy. So it was that Rossini wrote La donna del lago in Naples and during the very night following its première, on 24th October 1819, he boarded a coach in order to get to Milan, 800 kilometres away, seven days later. (On the way he spent just a few hours in Rome to deliver to the impresario there the "happy-ending" version of Otello, and also stopped off in Bologna to hug his parents).

Naturally the opening date of the prestigious Carnival season at La Scala in Milan—in those days 26th December—was sacrosanct and could not be missed, so Rossini had to make up for almost two months of lost preparation time with the composition of Bianco e Falliero. After the première Rossini had a conversation with Peter von Lichtenthal, the Italian correspondent of the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung (Leipzig), who reproached him for sloppiness; Rossini is alleged to have replied: "Believe me, it's a waste of effort writing serious music in Italy: the audience falls asleep during it. Rest assured that I will make a real effort in Vienna; the piccolo will not get notes any more, I will approach the singing as usual, yet provide better choruses and finales." (AMZ of 2.12.1820).

Even if Rossini with his remarks (directed at the German pedant) rode his hobbyhorse, they show that he was aware of the inherent difficulties. His next operas, Maometto II and Zelmira, are, among other things, studies of German music, also in anticipation of his début in Vienna. Bianco e Falliero is a step in this direction but, by using his excuse of "a waste of effort", Rossini wished to conceal the fact that there was simply no time for a deeper study.

From a technical point of view Romani had done a good job preparing the groundwork for Rossini. Romani had complied with an agreement which had already been imposed on librettists by La Scala in 1816: "In accordance with modern taste so-called pezzi concertati (ensembles) should predominate first and foremost, instead of arias." In all, the opera has only eleven numbers with no single arias for minor rôles. Rossini wrote out the whole score with great care, leaving only the secco recitatives to a collaborator. He largely refrained from borrowing from earlier operas and only the recycling of Elena's rondo from his Neapolitan opera that he had just written is more than a slight reminiscence. He especially gave close attention to the choruses and the first finale, and the quartet "Cielo, il mio labbro ispira" in the second act received lots of exposure. No less noteworthy is the quartet at the beginning of the first finale, "Importuno, in qual momento", when Falliero interrupts the forced marriage. It depicts the moment of a stunned standstill, a state of shock, which launches into a thrilling finale for which Romani, influenced by the classical school of Metastasio, invoked the image of natural catastrophes as a depiction of the souls' emotional states. Rossini was also to write such a first finale for Zelmira, and it shows that he basically made light of Lichtenthal's criticism and went his own way. As far as the singing was concerned, he did not even consider changing it for dramatic coloratura singing as an intrinsic expressive means had long since become his fundamental musical idiom.

And so all sorts of unconventionality are concealed behind a conventional façade, but the critics had no ear for such things and were highly critical of the opera. Although it was a hit with the Milanese public—it was heard on no fewer than 39 evenings during its first run—three whole years went by before a new production was ventured upon elsewhere and from then on the work held its own on stage for roughly ten years. Subsequently, like so many other Rossini operas, it quickly succumbed to the fate of falling into oblivion, on the one hand because dramatic coloratura singing, this most original and truest characteristic of bel canto, had to give way to a more declamatory and increasingly verismo style, and soon the singers could not cope with that any longer, and on the other hand because Rossini's subtle dramaturgy which concealed its depth behind hedonistic "happy-endings", had to give way more and more to the crude representation of madness and violence. With the recent rise in Rossini discoveries this final Milanese opera has undergone comparison with the more modern-looking Neapolitan operas; so even the completely normal usage, in northern Italy, of secco recitative was regarded as a "throwback" and therefore as a "retrograde step" and consequently the opera was labelled as "conventional". Even today, in many respects Bianco e Falliero is still a work that is difficult to comprehend and that will hardly establish itself. This recording allows a more nuanced examination of this serious Rossini opera, beyond those originating in Naples.

Synopsis

Act 1

St Mark's Square.

The people and the Venetian noblemen have gathered in St Mark's Square to celebrate the lion as the symbol of the Adriatic Republic, which not even a Spanish conspiracy could harm. Meanwhile the two senators Contareno and Capellio turn their thoughts to their private dealings which have been strained by a contested inheritance. But when Capellio reveals that he is in love with Bianca, and will even forgo his rights for her, Contareno, giddy with hope, grants him the hand of his daughter. A burst of cannon-fire announces the arrival of the Doge. The general rejoicing mingles with the personal happiness of the two men, who have now been reconciled. The Doge orders the latest proclamation of the Grand Council to be made known throughout the city. The harsh measures demanded by Contareno to prohibit treacherous activities on the part of foreign embassies have been forced through. Capellio would not have voted for them, since the danger was now averted and not all ambassadors were as devious as the Spaniard Bedmar. The Doge argues that the Republic still remains under threat and that the commander of the Venetian army might have been killed in action. At that moment the arrival of the victorious Falliero is announced. All those present give three cheers for Falliero. He reports on a comprehensive victory and the capture of Bergamo, on whose walls the flag of the lion now flies once again.

A courtyard in Contareno's house.

Bianca's handmaidens pick flowers which they liken to her virtues. Bianca rejoices at the cheerful mood heralded by the return of her beloved Falliero. She weaves a garland from the flowers to represent her love for him and her fidelity. She hopes for her own happiness and would like best of all to be the garland which will adorn the head of her hero. Contareno arrives and informs his daughter that he has just promised her to an exceptional man in Venice. Bianca is horrified to learn that he means not Falliero but Capellio; Contareno realises in disgust that Bianca is secretly in love with the impecunious officer. Contareno threatens her with the direst consequences for both her and Falliero if she should defy him. When Bianca bursts into tears he reacts by begging for compassion and declares that he would die of despair if she were to decline this alliance on which he sets all his hopes. Taken aback by her father's pleading, Bianca gives in. Contareno exults at this victory and sees his family's former renown restored once more.

A room in Contareno's house.

Falliero enters Contareno's house boldly and full of hope. Costanza, who has secretly let him in before, hopes, like him, and Bianca that, with the blessing of her father, the two will be able to become a couple. She leaves Falliero alone as Bianca approaches. Her heart skips a beat as she unexpectedly comes face to face with him. He notices her confusion and is willing to hear everything from her, except losing her. She reassures him of her fidelity. Finally she explains that her father opposes their liaison. Falliero wishes to defy fate but Bianca implores him to avoid Contareno. Deeply unhappy, the two realise that their longed-for reunion has not turned out as they had hoped.

The relatives of Contareno and Capellio enter and celebrate in song the nuptial ties, which will settle the disastrous feud between their families. The heads of both families invite the guests to stay to witness the happy coming together of the bridal couple. Eventually Bianca arrives but Capellio immediately notices her disturbed state and would like to hear of his good fortune from her herself. She reproaches him for having been content with her father's approval. The brusque answer leaves all three speechless for a moment. Contareno interrupts all thoughts and produces the marriage contract, which Capellio signs immediately. Bianca, pressurised by her relatives and by the threatening gestures of her father, is on the point of signing too. Just then Falliero bursts in and stakes his claim as Bianca's lover to whom she has sworn loyalty. All four are stunned at their situation. Finally Contareno confronts the gate-crasher. Falliero reasserts his claim. In the general uproar and consternation he is chased out of the house by Contareno's menservants.

Act 2

An inner courtyard in Contareno's palace. The wall in the background abuts the Spanish embassy. It is night.

Full of anxiety, Bianca greets her beloved. Falliero sees only their fleeing together, or death, as salvation from her forced marriage. He reproaches her for hesitating; she begs him to understand her feelings as a daughter. When he threatens suicide she finally overcomes her conflicted state and agrees to flee with him as his bride. The lovers fall into each other's arms, summoning up new hope for their happiness together. Costanza returns in a hurry and warns them of the imminent arrival of Contareno, who has summoned Bianca to this courtyard. Falliero's only means of escape is over the fateful wall. Contareno comes upon Bianca in the courtyard and, believing that she has relented, wants her to carry out the marriage ceremony that same night in the private chapel. When Capellio arrives he is relieved to hear Contareno's assurance that Bianca has consented to their marriage. But, instead of her corroboration, the two men hear Bianca's accusation that her father has overstepped the mark in respect of his rights. Capellio is distraught at the renewed ignominy that Contareno has caused him and wants to leave. In his rage, Contareno is on the point of cursing Bianca. He abhors the word 'father' coming from her mouth and threatens to disown her completely. Bianca's response, that what she has suffered so far could not get any worse, enrages him even more. At that moment there is a heavy knock on the door. Pisani, the chancellor of the Triumvirate Council, comes in with a letter. Triumphantly Contareno learns that the tribunal has been summoned, since Falliero has been seized in the palace of the Spanish embassy. Contareno looks forward to having his revenge, while the distraught Bianca is taken to her rooms.

Meeting hall of the Triumvirate Council, draped in black.

While the tribunal is being prepared, those present deplore in disbelief the sudden fall of their so recently celebrated hero. Falliero is led in and shudders at the sight of the black-draped hall. He realises that Bianca's gloomy premonition was justified. Yet he summons up strength, convinced of her loyalty. Pisani is going to take Falliero into the adjoining room. He tells him the names of the three judges: Loredano, Capellio and Contareno. Pisani tries to allay Falliero's fear of the pitilessness of the last-named by pointing out to him that Capellio on the other hand would be fair and charitable as Contareno's newlywed son-in-law. Falliero is appalled that Bianca is now Capellio's wife; Pisani confirms having seen the wedding decorations for himself. Falliero is shattered by this stab right to the heart. He cannot answer the questions of those present as to why he is suddenly desperate. Withdrawing into himself, he bemoans his early end; his death will punish his faithless beloved with her pangs of conscience. Falliero is interrogated. He affirms that he knows the law, that any contact with foreign powers is punishable by death, but he refuses to explain away his sojourn in the Spanish embassy. Then an usher announces that an accomplice of the defendant wishes to give testimony. Contareno allows the person to enter. A woman wearing a veil comes in and immediately reveals herself as being Bianca. Contareno wants to have her taken home right away but Capellio reminds him that by law she must be heard. All hold their breath: Bianca begs heaven for courage, Falliero has renewed hope in her loyalty, Contareno struggles to compose himself and Capellio is strengthened in his sense of justice. Eventually Bianca professes Falliero's innocence and breathlessly describes her rendezvous with him and his flight when her father suddenly appeared. With delight Falliero realises that she is faithful to him and reiterates his innocence which he did not put forward earlier only because of his distress at the supposed marriage. Contareno wants to have none of that and signs the death warrant, followed by Loredano. But Capellio rejects the warrant and demands that the case should be reviewed by the Senate. The hopes of the lovers and of the hero's followers contrast with Contareno's boiling rage, while for Capellio is relieved at the triumph of justice.

A room in Contareno' s palace.

Bianca's handmaidens give her encouragement. From afar she hears muffled shouts. Falliero is returning as a free man. Embracing Bianca he explains that he owes his acquittal to Capellio, who discloses that the Senate has placed Bianca in Falliero's care so that she may escape her father's wrath. But Contareno blocks the lovers' passage. He blames his daughter for having brought disgrace upon him. Bianca is all but heart-broken; she wants to remain with her father as her feelings as a daughter prevail. All those present are moved by the scene and urge Contareno to be lenient. Finally he relents and gives his consent to the marriage with Falliero. Among her father, the justice-loving senator and her husband, Bianca can scarcely comprehend her sudden stroke of luck, while Falliero and all the others, full of relief, look forward to peaceful times.

Writer: Reto Müller
Translated by: David Stevens