Ermonela Jaho on La rondine

Centring on the free-spirited Parisian courtesan Magda de Civry and her doomed love affair with the unworldly Ruggero Lastouc, Puccini's La rondine premiered in Monte Carlo in 1917, with an ending that is bittersweet rather than tragic: Magda gently calls time on her relationship with Ruggero upon realising that they come from different worlds, arguing that her colourful past would bring shame on his upstanding family. When the composer revisited the opera in 1919 and 1921, however, things played out rather more dramatically - and a new recording from Opera Rara (out tomorrow) presents the final version in its entirety alongside substantial excerpts from the 1919 edition so that listeners can compare and contrast the different dynamics at work. 

Albanian soprano Ermonela Jaho, who sings the title-role, spoke to me about the challenges and rewards of exploring three incarnations of Magda, the musical and dramatic impact of Puccini's visions and revisions, and her ongoing work as one of Opera Rara's Artistic Ambassadors.

How does Magda compare with the other Puccini roles in your repertoire?

The big difference is that I get to stay alive for once! Unlike a lot of Puccini heroines, Magda survives the opera - but something dies inside of her in all three versions of the score. She still makes a huge sacrifice, and there’s a door that closes forever. I always joke to my management and opera-houses that I’m the woman to call if you want suffering and drama (!), but in all seriousness I approach Magda’s tragedy with the same intensity as I do Butterfly or Suor Angelica. 

Magda is a lively, beautiful woman who’s surrounded by people who love and admire her, but despite the gorgeous dresses and lavish parties she’s all alone. You can have everything you want on a material level, but if something’s missing on the inside it haunts you forever. And nobody expresses that quite like Puccini!

Perhaps the chance to fill that void just comes a little too late for Magda. She’s a bit like Verdi’s Violetta in that she falls in love with a less mature man who is very beholden to his family, and in her heart she knows that she can’t compromise those bonds for the sake of her own happiness. In all three versions of the opera her feelings for Ruggero go beyond romantic love or erotic chemistry: there’s a mother/son, sister/brother dynamic at work too. 

How much does this 1921 version of the opera differ from the standard one?

I don’t like to blow my own trumpet, but I feel quite proud to be the one soprano who’s sung all three versions of Magda! Next year I have three or four productions in the diary, and she feels richer now that I have all these different flavours in the mix - opening that hidden door in Puccini’s heart has been quite an experience.

It was certainly a challenge to get inside the two later versions, because we all know and love the original one so well. Starting on a musical level, the last act in particular is completely different in the 1921 version…some of Ruggero’s most memorable phrases are sung by Magda this time round, so I really had to concentrate - I basically learned everyone else’s parts by heart so that I wouldn’t freeze and think ‘Hang on, is this my line or his?’! 

We spent a lot of time talking about the differences in that third act, but one of the most interesting changes comes in Act Two. The famous chorus ‘Bevi al tuo fresco sorriso’ is one of the most beautiful passages that Puccini ever wrote but in the 1921 version it’s written for solo quartet, which is less powerful but more touching. That makes sense, because La rondine is essentially a storia di salon: we see straight into the souls of all four characters, and Puccini is a master of that. 

Our recording also includes excerpts from the 1919 version, which is different again. Prunier is a baritone here, so I had to get used to the ensembles and colours feeling a little darker. The first act of 1919 is more or less the same as in the original version, but for some reason Magda’s famous aria ‘Chi il bel sogno di Doretta’ is a tone lower and it feels so strange - we spent more time on that version than we did on the familiar one! The energy, the vibrations and the centre of tonality feel completely different in the body…and you get nervous that you’re going to lose those high Cs when you go back to the other versions!

Are there also significant differences in terms of the character’s dramatic arc?

From the theatrical point of view it was really interesting, because in the first version it’s Magda who leaves Ruggero, ending their relationship face-to-face: she actively makes that choice because she knows that they couldn’t live the kind of life she wants together, and something inside her is still searching for the perfect love. She recognises that everything has a price, and she’s prepared to pay it even if it’s painful.

The second version is perhaps more powerful because it’s Prunier who convinces Magda to break up with Ruggero by leaving him a goodbye letter, and the third dials up the drama even further: Ruggero storms away in a violent rage after learning about Magda’s past, and she’s left with nothing but the friend who’s been there for her from the beginning. She becomes more of a typical Puccini heroine in 1921 – his women have to suffer until the bitter end!

Going on those three different journeys inevitably stays with you, but on one level I have to pretend I don’t know the other versions when I’m out there on stage: whichever one you’re doing, you need to build it so that it’s a surprise for the audience. It’s hard to ignore that beautiful connection with Ruggero in the traditional version, but if anything this 1921 edition proves just how strong her love is. In each version of the story he’s younger than her (emotionally speaking, at least), and she takes her responsibilities seriously – her generosity is amazing

Why do you think Puccini kept revisiting this opera? Is there any precedent for that in his earlier works?

He revisited Madama Butterfly and Manon Lescaut several times, and made some changes to Suor Angelica - in the original version Angelica had an aria called ‘Amici fiori’ which she sings as she’s preparing the poison, which we hardly ever hear today. But the way he explores all these facets of Magda’s beautiful, generous soul is unique. Butterfly remains Butterfly in each incarnation, whereas each time Puccini returns to Magda he highlights a different aspect of her humanity: her vulnerability, her desire to feel free, and the ultimate cost of that.

That’s exactly why I love Puccini: he understands humanity, and he understands women in particular. We try to make the right choices and we all make mistakes along the way, but that’s part of being human.

The 1921 version of the opera is unique in Puccini’s output in that it ends with two women alone together on stage - what’s special about that relationship between Magda and her friend Lisette?

In a sense Magda and Lisette are the real love story in this opera, because they know and accept each other’s past. Magda’s the society beauty and Lisette’s the working-class girl who helps her, but at the end of the day they’re just two women searching for love. And that’s kind of a mirror for the whole Opera Rara philosophy: the difference between the diva and the comprimaria disappears because we’re all just artists coming together to create something together, and Maestro Rizzi fosters a safe non-judgemental environment so that we can all be vulnerable and real.

I formed such a special bond with Ellie Neate, who sang Lisette – she has the most angelic voice, and somewhere along the line we became like family rather than soloists doing a job. At the end of the opera we were both in tears because we connected so deeply with each other and the music. That kind of catharsis doesn’t happen so often in our profession, because with all due respect egos can sometimes get in the way…but with Opera Rara egos get left at the door, because it doesn’t matter if you’re famous or not! 

Every member of the BBC Symphony Orchestra was fully invested in the drama too - this wasn’t one of those recording projects where the musicians just turn up, play their parts and go home! That’s largely down to Maestro Rizzi, who began every session by explaining the plot and the characters’ state of mind to everyone: that’s not easy to do when the clock is ticking in the studio, but Carlo has such a gift for finding the right words to get people into the right headspace.

This may be a studio recording rather than a live one, but I think you can feel the atmosphere of joy, generosity and vulnerability that we created together. I hope that the characters feel alive, whether they’re drinking, loving, crying or suffering. We weren’t aiming for sterile perfection – it was all about polishing our imperfections! 

How did your relationship with Opera Rara begin?

It started in 2014 with Leoncavallo’s Zazà, and Zazà is actually quite a lot like Magda – she’s another social butterfly who ultimately gives up the man she loves because she knows it’s  the right thing to do. That project was a challenge and a risk for Opera Rara, because it was the first time they’d recorded verismo rather than neglected bel canto or French opera - and it was a risk for me too, because at that point the only Leoncavallo role I’d sung was Nedda in Pagliacci.

But Zazà is a completely different score, and it came as a big surprise – there’s Debussy and Wagner in there if you listen out for it! It went very well and I was so happy to become part of the Opera Rara family, because it’s not just about delving into the past to unearth forgotten operas: it’s about shaping the future of the art form.

We went on to do Le Willis (Puccini’s very first opera), the recital album Anima Rara, and then two volumes of Donizetti songs in both French and Italian, which was a huge voyage of discovery for me. I’ve been on stage for over three decades now, but when I started work on the Donizetti Song Project I suddenly felt like a student again! I recorded 42 songs and they’re all so completely different: some are only a page long, and others last fifteen minutes!

These are difficult times in the classical music industry, and Opera Rara works with so much love, dedication and creativity - not just on the music itself, but in terms of fostering donor support to make these projects happen. I’m so honoured to be one of their Artistic Ambassadors, because at this stage of my life as an artist it’s very important to give something back: I feel it’s my duty to help shine a light on forgotten music rather than just recording standard repertoire. We all love Traviata and Butterfly, but there are a lot of other masterpieces out there…even if the stories seem dated or unrealistic at first glance, the underlying feeling is still there and it's our job to bring that out.