BWW Reviews: VITTORIO GRIGOLO--in Concert at the Met--Is Just Warming Up

Ever since the Three Tenors--Pavarotti, Domingo, Carreras--got together in Rome's Baths of Caracalla in 1990, the world of opera has never been the same.

And while the lookout for "the next big thing" has always been part of the opera world, the race to the finish has intensified over the last two decades, with the focus on tenors. Roberto Alagna had the misfortune to be marketed as "the Fourth Tenor" and was never quite up to the billing. Rolando Villazon has had his ups and downs (and ups). Now Vittorio Grigolo steps into the spotlight.

At his recital on the Metropolitan Opera stage on Sunday, featuring all Italian composers, my first reaction was a big question mark: Why were they hitching their wagon to this personable young tenor, who has energy to spare but doesn't seem to have 'it'? I got my answer and it was a pleasantly satisfying one.

Grigolo began his program with four early songs by Bellini that were modest by any standard and didn't particularly show off his voice or his personality. Indeed, they seemed to emphasize the underlying vibrato in it that may not be to every taste, including mine. As it turned out, this was one instance where patience was definitely a virtue--though the waiting time extended till the second part of the program.

Still, there were hints of what he had to offer in the other first half's other pieces--in "La Danza" by Rossini, a tarantella, which was a charmer, as well as in the Donizetti/Salvi "Inosservato, penetrava... Angelo casto e bel" from IL DUCA D'ALBA and Verdi's "Ah si, ben dite... Tutto parea sorridere" from IL CORSARO.

The surprise came in the second act opener: a series of songs by the Italian composer Paolo Tosti.

Tosti, born in 1846, was a prolific writer of more than 350 "salon tunes," mostly ballads, in Italian, French, English and Neapolitan. Grigolo seemed to connect to these songs--two in French and three in Italian--in a way that he hadn't to the earlier pieces of the program and had the audience swooning, justifiably so.

His voice sounded different, sweeter, more exciting, in these melancholy yet ardent songs, and he was just getting started. (Maybe he should have started the recital with these songs.) His soaring voice and boyish exuberance were contagious, as he went on to a series of serenades by Gastaldon, Leoncavallo and De Curtis, finishing off the printed part of the program with "O paese d' 'osole" by D'Annibale, a "hymn to Naples." Pianist Vincenzo Scalera was in very much tune with the tenor, and was frequently acknowledged during the recital for his contributions. He was an able accompanist to Grigolo, helping him to find the emotional core of each song.

As with many recitalists, Grigolo seemed glad when he could move on to some encores. The best was "Una furtiva lagrima," from L'ELISIR D'AMORE, which is so much associated with Luciano Pavarotti in New York that one almost expects his ghost to appear during the first notes of the introduction. But Grigolo--who was called "Pavarottino," little Pavarotti, earlier in his career--sang it with charm, richness and, yes, with heart. While he hasn't yet sung Nemorino at the Met, you can be sure it will be on his dance card before long.

Photo Credit: Alessandro Dobici

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