El gitano por amor
Music and libretto: Manuel García

(Teatro de la Zarzuela, Madrid, 22 April 2026)

reviwed by Enrique Mejías García

Right now Madrid audiences are witnessing a curious paradox: a through-sung opera is playing at Teatro de la Zarzuela (El gitano por amor), while at Teatro Real we are enjoying what it would not be entirely inappropriate to call a ‘Czech zarzuela’ (The Bartered Bride). The observation – which Christopher Webber humorously threw at me yesterday – is more than merely anecdotal: it questions most eloquently the (in)stability of categories and labels. What is opera? What is zarzuela?

Because if one thing became clear as the curtain came down at Calle Jovellanos, it is that El gitano por amor (‘The Gypsy for Love’) was not another ‘national opera’ forcibly dragged back onto a stage where it does not belong. In a nutshell: I think this opera in Spanish by Manuel García reveals itself to be much more than a dutifully-revived rarity and forces us to rethink the composer’s place in the history of Hispanic lyric theatre.

Composed around 1828, probably on the ship back from his failed adventures in New York and Mexico City, El gitano por amor was never performed. Probably conceived for a stage repertoire that no longer existed, it remained on the margins of contemporary theatrical practice, suspended in a kind of historical limbo from which it is only now emerging, thanks to the editorial efforts of maestro Juan de Udaeta and his colleague Enrique Amodeo. This circumstance conditions both its profile and its current reception, since in this world premiere (two centuries after its composition!) we hear García’s opera as a testament to unrealized possibilities.

Based on the novel La gitanilla (1613) by Cervantes, the work adopts the classic mould of two-act opera buffa. But what’s fascinating is what García pours into it: music of remarkable personality in which an Italian tradition with Spanish undercurrents, seasoned by harmonic and timbral imagination, coalesces in a way that sometimes surprises by its audacity. One of the score’s most striking aspects is its relative distance from the Rossini model. Beyond a few specific – and undoubtedly delicious – moments, the writing frequently evokes previous worlds, closer to Mayr or even Mozart, both in formal clarity and in care for orchestral detail. The instrumentation, balanced and expressive, and the harmonic treatment, with modulations of remarkable interest, sustain a discourse always geared towards theatrical efficiency.

The simple libretto – in all probability written by García himself – fully conforms to the plot mechanisms of buffo comedy. But far from being a limitation, this simplicity emphasises its direct and effective theatricality. Given that, I cannot help but question the suitability of singing secco recitatives in Spanish, when here in Spain spoken dialogue sounds so much more natural.

Among the score’s most successful moments is the final ‘recognition aria’, where the heroine reveals her true identity and is reconciled with her father. Beyond its dramatic effectiveness, the music here achieves unusual expressive intensity, which seems to transcend the codes of comedy to enter intimately moving territory. Nor can I resist mentioning the introductory Sinfonía with its fandango theme (worthy of being part of the concert repertoire); the popular gypsy wedding from the first act’s grand finale; or the superb, fortune-telling pezzo concertato in the second. Frankly, it is hard to believe that this spirited and populist García, eager to constantly surprise the listener, is the same composer responsible for those other, much paler scores revived years ago.

I would not like to end without praising the efforts made to stage this production – which originated in an 2024 educational project for Ópera Estudio de Málaga – at Teatro de la Zarzuela. Obviously, Emilio Sagi had certain budgetary constraints at the time which led him to opt for a staging of great simplicity, enhancing the fluidity of the action. This approach allowed us to appreciate the work’s virtues, although it also highlighted the limitations of a consciously reductionist scenic approach.

Musically, results was mixed. The cast’s commitment was evident, with Sabina Puértolas, Javier Povedano and Juan Antonio Sanabria coping with their very demanding parts, but the musical direction of Carlos Aragón did not always manage to extract the refinement and richness of nuance that this music requires to reveal its full potential.

For all this, the overall impression was more than positive. Beyond the circumstances of this production, El gitano por amor emerges in 2026 as a work that deserves to be heard and revisited on stage, above all with the dedication allowing its scope to be fully appreciated. The true figure of Manuel García thus begins to emerge not as an isolated exception, but as part of the chain between the world of Rodríguez de Hita and that of Barbieri that we are still learning to appreciate.

© Enrique Mejías García and zarzuela.net, 2026

Cast: Hernando – Juan Antonio Sanabria; Rosita – Sabina Puértolas; Inés – María José Moreno; Baldaquín – Javier Povedano; Laura – Begoña Gómez; Manolo – José Ángel Florido; Marqués del Pino – Pietro Spagnoli; Orquesta de la Comunidad de Madrid; Teatro de la Zarzuela Choir; Antonio Fauró (chor. d.); Emilio Sagi (d.); Daniel Bianco (des.); Jesús Ruiz (cost.); Eduardo Bravo (l.); Carlos Aragón (c.)

en español
homepage - zarzuela.net

24/IV/2026