Jessica Pratt in Concert

La sua prova appare maiuscola, in particolare per quanto attiene l’utilizzo sempre fluido e naturale dei registri acuto e sopracuto, la rotondità della zona centrale e l’attento dosaggio delle sfumature, tanto rilevanti in “Ah, non credea mirarti… Ah! Non giunge” da La sonnambula di Bellini e nell’ampio finale del primo atto della Traviata, dove il soprano investe appieno i propri mezzi per tornire compiutamente i cangianti stati d’animo di Violetta.

Jessica Pratt opened her program with a complete scene from Vincenzo Bellini’s La sonnambula, an opera semiseria, where, after just a few measures, it was clear that on the stage stood an artist in perfect command of the bel canto language. A mesmerizing timbre, sculpted phrasing, full-bodied pianissimos in the highest register, and sparkling coloratura in the cabaletta left no doubt that this is how Italian Romantic opera should be sung. Emilia di Liverpool, an opera semiseria by Gaetano Donizetti, ranks among the rarest of the composer’s works to be performed. He wrote it for the Teatro Nuovo in Naples at the age of 26, when he had already composed a dozen operas, but he revised the original 1824 version four years later. In Emilia’s cavatina and cabaletta, with chorus and mezzo-soprano solo, Jessica Pratt immersed herself in the psychology of the character—conveying both her despair and her joy and reconciliation through the virtuosity of the cabaletta. Lucia di Lammermoor by Gaetano Donizetti, with its mad scene, may seem like an overused staple for both “white” and darker coloratura sopranos. Yet this time, every word, every phrase, every dynamic nuance, gesture, and expressive detail in Jessica Pratt’s Lucia was utterly believable. At 45 years old, she finds herself in the prime of a youthful dramatic coloratura, which, thanks to flawless technique, allows her to shape long legato phrases on one hand and cascades of ornamental singing on the other. Yet there is always a profound emotional charge. The accompanying solo instrument was not the “glass harmonica” originally intended by the composer, which is increasingly common in theaters today, but rather a flute (superbly played by Jana Lukášová), and yet the number still resonated with utmost authenticity. The staged scene and aria of Elvira in I Puritani by Vincenzo Bellini was likewise confirmation that the audience had the opportunity to witness a live lesson in bel canto poetics and style. Supple legato, dynamic nuances, deep immersion into the heroine’s emotional state, and, in the finale, a breathtaking cabaletta—this was Pratt’s Elvira. And, at the end of the official program, she delivered an equally exemplary portrayal of the title role in Donizetti’s Linda di Chamounix, which had already begun to lift the audience from their seats. Andrij Jurkevyč understands bel canto (after all, he repeatedly collaborated with Edita Gruberová, whether at the Bratislava Music Festival in 2011 in Lucrezia Borgia or two years later in Košice in Anna Bolena, both in concert form)—there is no doubt about that. He supported the soloist, chose fitting tempos, and “breathed” with her; nevertheless, the orchestra was not flawless in every detail. Even the two overtures by Ambroise Thomas lacked the stamp of perfection. Jessica Pratt not only shaped the stage atmosphere through her acting in front of the orchestra, but she also chose a different costume for each performance, matching the character’s essence. I was familiar with her cheerfulness and mischievous spirit from a recital at the Pesaro festival, so I was not surprised by the playful trick she had prepared as an encore treat. After the final number of the official program, in two or three seconds, she shed her grand costume, and suddenly, on stage stood a cheerful, smiling Jessica in a simple dress. In it, she danced lightly and, with no less brilliance, made her way through half of the auditorium while performing Cunégonde’s aria from Leonard Bernstein’s Candide. The fireworks of coloratura reached their climax, followed by an inevitable spontaneous standing ovation. Deservedly so—Jessica Pratt, with her unique artistry and, not least, with a repertoire precious for Prague (and for us), won the hearts of the audience.

...in her long, sustained pianissimi in the high register, she touched the very limits of what is possible in this art. ...astonishing how simply, naturally, and seemingly without effort she delivered these incredibly demanding arias.