Music: First-Class Piccalilli

Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari (1876-1948) was a 20th Century composer with 18th Century ambitions. In most of his 13 operas (best known: The Jewels of the Madonna, Secret of Suzanne), he aimed for classic form and comic elegance. At his best, he came close to being the poor man’s Mozart; at his broadest, a kind of roughhewn Rossini. Last week he was Manhattan’s newest opera hit.

New York City Opera resurrected his old (1906) three-acter, I Quattro Rusteghi, never before performed in the U.S. Decked out in an English translation, The Four Ruffians made up in broad mirth anything it lacked in old-school elegance.

Wolf-Ferrari based his Ruffians on a farce by 18th Century Carlo Goldoni: two prosperous Venetian merchants arrange a marriage of convenience for their children, and, being unromantic old curmudgeons, vow that the young couple shall not be allowed to meet until they reach the altar. Their wives, being romantic busybodies, vow that the youngsters shall meet anyhow, and thereby thinly hangs the opera.

Venetian-born Composer Wolf-Ferrari fattened it out with a score that was old-fashioned in its harmonies and cadences, but always fresh, animated and agreeable. The melodies, if not memorable, were pleasing, the ensembles nicely assembled, and the orchestration throughout a model of clarity and cleverness.

City Opera played it for guffaws—and got them. Some of the critics hinted that the whole thing was piccalilli. But, as charmingly sung by a first-rate cast, it was first-class piccalilli.