Eternal Ponnelle
by Susanne Krekel
Munich, July 11, 2026 - One might well wonder why certain operas are restaged time and again after seeing Jean-Pierre Ponnelle’s classic production of Rossini’s Cenerentola.
It is a timeless tale—a fairy story with a message that, at the time of the opera’s creation, carried distinct political undertones: personal merit counts for more than titles, rank, or lineage. Rossini’s librettist, Jacopo Ferretti, replaced the Fairy Godmother with a male figure—Alidoro, the tutor to Prince Don Ramiro. Since Alidoro lacks the Fairy Godmother’s innate familiarity with Cenerentola, he must first put her to the test, appearing in Don Magnifico’s household disguised as a beggar. Angelina takes pity on him and offers him food and drink; convinced she is the right match for his protégé, Alidoro then orchestrates their union. In Ponnelle’s staging, Alidoro wears the tailcoat and top hat like Rossini himself, whereas the Prince and his valet, Dandini, still sport the knee-breeches of the eighteenth century. Angelina’s stepfather, Don Magnifico, and his daughters, Tisbe and Clorinda, are characterized as even more old-fashioned through their use of hoop skirts and powdered periwigs. In this version, Dandini is tasked with posing as the Prince to sound out the intentions and characters of the ladies in the household into which the Prince is to marry; the Prince himself plays the role of the valet. It is in this disguise that he first encounters Angelina—Cinderella—and for both, it is love at first sight.
A series of comic mix-ups and cases of mistaken identity ensue before the happy ending is reached—all set to the wonderful music of Gioachino Rossini and staged with brilliant insight by Jean-Pierre Ponnelle. Don Magnifico and his daughters are, of course, the very embodiment of the ridiculous—vain and foolish—traits they demonstrate with every action. The performers in today’s production are admirable: Narea Son as Clorinda and Emily Sierra as Tisbe tumble, squeal, and stumble through the story—a sheer delight to watch. Misha Kiria is an outstanding Don Magnifico—ludicrous yet authoritarian—and his powerful baritone cuts through even the conducting of Antonino Fogliani, who otherwise unfortunately tends to confuse dynamics with sheer volume. Consequently, some vocal details remain lost to us, and at times the singers in the ensembles are almost completely inaudible—a great pity! On the plus side, the rhythmic subtleties of Rossini’s score are rendered with precision and fluidity, and the choreography of the choral scenes is wonderfully precise—and all the funnier for it. René Barbera delivers an amiable Don Ramiro with a clear, radiant tenor, while Konstantin Krimmel’s elegant Dandini is utterly convincing as the imposter prince. Isabel Leonard is truly magnificent in the title role; with a warm, richly flowing soprano, she embodies the downtrodden Angelina—a woman who has not lost her compassion or love for humanity despite all her hardships.
The entire audience wholeheartedly rejoices in her winning the prince and thanks her and the whole cast with enthusiastic applause; after all, fun and laughter are sorely needed in these times. An almost perfect evening at the opera—"bravi tutti" and many thanks!