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Falstaff received thirteen performances this season.

Review 1:

Review of Donal Henehan in the New York Times
Opera: A Thin and Pallid ?Falstaff? Returns to Met

?Falstaff,?' in Franco Zeffirelli?s generally admired production, returned to the Metropolitan Opera Monday night after an absence of two seasons, this time with Cornell MacNeil as Verdi?s overblown windbag. In his first Metropolitan appearance in the role, Mr. MacNeil gave what may just be called a thin portrayal of a fat part. Although the account of the purely vocal dimensions of Falstaff was always adequate, and often richly pleasing, Mr. MacNeil did not come close to getting his arms around the character.

Any [?] Falstaff?s most telling moment is the [beginning] of the third act, when Verdi and his librettist, Boito, suddenly let the befuddled lecher turn introspective and face the old fool that he is. Unless the baritone who is entrusted with "Va, vecchio John," one of the score's few approximations to an aria, shows us a man here who is not merely a fool but a wise old fool, one of "Falstaff's" legs collapses.

A great Falstaff can bring an audience to the brink of tears at this point and then, with a sudden return to the funny side of the street, bring back the opera's clowning mood. Mr. McNeil made too little of such temperamental shifts in the volatile Sir John's character. It was difficult even to laugh at his troubles, let alone feel the twinge of pity.

Falstaff, of course, is a virtuoso's role, and Mr. McNeil may round into it as he goes. Vocally, his was not a subtle performance as yet, either, though it was solid enough in that regard, and was acted plausibly. Mr. McNeil looked the part so completely, in fact, that his lack of depth was all the more striking.

On the whole, the performance was rather pallid, though James Levine's conducting kept the pace brisk. First Metropolitan appearances in their parts by Evelyn Lear (Mrs. Ford), Benita Valente (Nannetta) and Douglas Ahlstedt (Fenton) passed muster, with Miss Valente's small but sweetly pure soprano making an especially good impression. The scheming ladies in general, however, were unusually bland, except for Fedora Barbieri (Mrs. Quickly). Miss Barbieri, who has been singing opera since 1940, was the ablest comedian onstage, and her lovable foghorn of a voice actually could wake one up.

Thomas Stewart, as handsome a Ford as could be imagined, hardly did the part vocal justice. Ford's jealousy aria needed more steel in its interpretation and somewhat less tin in its tone. Mr. Stewart has taken to growling his lower notes, but that did not effectively simulate an outraged husband's anger. In few other operas is ensemble singing and acting more important than in "Falstaff," which means that the even dozen roles are all extremely important. This performance had strength in its Bardolfo (Andrea Veils), Pistola (Richard Best) and Dr. Cajus (Paul Franke), but several other lesser characters were ciphers.

The Zeffirelli production still makes a most poetic effect in the final scene, which is Verdi's homage to "A Midsummer Night's Dream." But even here, one does not remember so much apparently senseless activity and so many traffic problems among the fairies, animals and goblins. Nor, come to think of it, has the final fugue ever struck one in the past as too long and not quite humorous. Perhaps there is no such thing as a good routine "Falstaff."

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