We mourn the passing of tenor Carlo Bergonzi this week, an enormously talented singer who began his career as a baritone, then changed to the more heroic register, not only because the parts lay better in his range, but the parts were better in the operas. We can only agree with that, and are thankful that he did change, as his warm, emotional singing enriched the world of opera for many years. And what role did Bergonzi sing in his tenor debut? Not Rhadamès, not Alfredo, (although he was superb in both those roles later on), but the lead in Giordano's Andrea Chenier, a tremendously demanding role that is one of the glories of verismo, and one of the only operas of that composer still regularly staged.
And while Bergonzi was not considered a terrific actor--in fact, everyone including him seemed to agree on his lack of thespian ability, the role of Chenier is not particularly suited to histrionics. As a poet, Chenier is more intellectual in his expressions, and as such is a tenor role that can live well in the scene as long as the singer has sufficient expression, which Bergonzi had in spades.
And yet there are numerous examples of how downright visceral verismo operatic acting could be. Perhaps the roles of Turridu and Alfio from Cavalleria Rusticana are exemplars of that scene-chewing, breast-beating flavor of "the Grand Manner" which either thrills the audience or causes them to roll their eyes and bite their handkerchiefs in derision, if poorly done.
In this example from 1928, when Mascagni still had almost 20 years to live, we can see what a performance of the ending of Cavalleria might have looked and sounded like, this starring Beniamino Gigli, whom the composer favored, and whom he directed in a famous recording some years later.
