By Ashutosh Khandekar

Published: Tuesday, 08 March 2022 at 12:00 am


For a relatively short opera (of around 75 minutes), Cavalleria rusticana packs a sensational punch with its torrid tale of sexual jealousy and deadly violence. The work was created over two months of furious activity to meet the deadline for a competition organised by music publishers Casa Sonzogno.

Mascagni set a story by a contemporary writer, Giovanni Verga, whose gritty novels and plays concern themselves with the dark passions lurking within ordinary lives in rural Sicily. Out of 73 entries, three one-act operas were selected for the final in Rome. Mascagni’s work was a convincing winner. On opening night in 1890, the 26-year-old composer took 40 curtain calls, propelling him to international fame and establishing ‘verismo’ as a new operatic genre that would pave the way for Puccini. Mascagni composed 16 other works for stage, but none achieved the popular success of his first opera.

The best recordings of Cavalleria rusticana

Herbert von Karajan

Carlo Bergonzi, Fiorenza Cossotto, Giangiacomo Guelfi; La Scala Chorus & Orchestra (1965)

DG 457 7642  

Cavalleria rusticana is one of the most recorded operas. Many versions have been remastered for CD and there is an impressive roll call of great singers and conductors available to the listener today. Herbert von Karajan’s 1965 Deutsche Grammophon recording, with tenor Carlo Bergonzi as the emotionally feckless Turiddu and Fiorenza Cossotto as the deeply-wronged Santuzza, stands out on account of its lovingly detailed realisation of the score, avoiding sentimentality while letting the passion flood out.

Karajan takes real care to bring clarity and definition to music that in the wrong hands can leave you wallowing in emotional treacle. With steady tempos, he builds up tension to a taut, shockingly violent conclusion. His graphic handling of orchestral texture brings the world of Cavalleria to life, with every nuance of light and colour brought into focus in the playing of La Scala’s orchestra.

Cossotto is quite outstanding, surely one of the finest mezzos on record. Here she sings with exquisite pathos and dramatic intensity, meltingly sweet in ‘Voi lo sapete’ and viciously compelling in ‘A te la mala Pasqua’, the curse she hurls at Turiddu at the church door. Bergonzi stops short of rough-edged sexual allure, but brings instead an elegance that captures something of Turiddu’s duplicitous charm, while Giangiacomo Guelfi gives Alfio a confident swagger.