Composer: Ruggero Leoncavallo
Conductor: Gerry Cornelius
Director: Eleanor Burke
It’s a mystery why some operas seem to fall victim to opera companies’ desire to produce something striking even if it means dismantling the whole dramatic basis of the opera, but Pagliacci seems to be a regular target these days. English Touring Opera’s production is ultimately overpowering, but the first 45 minutes or so seem to be dominated by perverse decisions.
Pagliacci is one of the great operas of the verismo movement, realistic operas set within ordinary lives, frequently those of the working poor in Italian villages. A group of travelling players (pagliacci or clowns) arrive in a village to the excitement of the locals. The story is brief, but bloody. Canio, the leader of the troupe, is jealous of his wife Nedda – with reason, as it turns out: she plans to go away with Silvio, not one of the troupe. Tonio, spurned by Nedda, makes sure that Canio learns of this and, in the middle of a commedia dell’arte-style performance of Harlequin and Columbine, art and life intersect and Canio kills Nedda and Silvio.
Pagliacci is usually performed in a weighty double-bill with Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana, but in recent years stand-alone performances are more common. So it is with English Touring Opera who also add half an hour to the running time by introducing an interval which falls immediately after Canio sets us up for the performance with his famous aria, Vesti la giubba, grippingly sung by Ronald Samm. After the interval Act 2 lasts less than 30 minutes.
From the moment Canio bursts in on Nedda and Silvio like a torrent, the production takes off, but that is some 45 minutes into a performance that lasts about 80 minutes of stage time. We begin in a drab office, set up with microphones, and pass the opening minutes watching in silence members of the company or press (who knows?) assembling, reading, playing ball, disappearing into an inner office. Nedda storms off, Canio sits slumped in his seat in despair as Tonio addresses the press on the sharp borderline between art and reality. Then the press disappear to settle round the stage wearing clown noses as Nedda rejects Tonio and then plans to run away with Silvio.
This all seems to bear little resemblance to Pagliacci, but the explosion of Canio into the scene brings the whole thing to life. Oddities still rankle, like the chorus (now in full clown make-up) clamouring for seats while clambering all over the little domestic set of the play, but the mixture of agony and dangerous power in Samm’s performance and the delicate-into-dangerous charm of Leoncavallo’s music for the play works its magic. Paula Sides’ troubled performance is full of the desperate need to escape and Matthew Siveter vividly brings out the menace of Tonio. Danny Shelvey’s rather conventional Silvio and Harry Grigg’s amiable Beppe complete the cast.
The small chorus sing with astonishing commitment and power as the story reaches its climax and, under Gerry Cornelius, the orchestra is magnificent throughout. Robin Norton-Hale’s translation leaves some contradictions unresolved and Eleanor Burke’s direction follows through her interpretation, but is too full of requiring the chorus to be several things at once, resulting in confusion for at least one audience member.
Reviewed on 21st March 2026. On tour across England.
The Reviews Hub Star Rating
60%
Perverse, but powerful