El Potosí Submarino
Music: Emilio Arrieta
Libretto: Rafael García Santisteban
Adaptation: Rafael R. Villalobos

(Madrid, 19 November 2025)

reviewed by Víctor Sánchez Sánchez

The need to revive El Potosí Submarino has been noted by zarzuela scholars since María Encina Cortizo’s book on Arrieta appeared in 1998. The Navarre composer is still mainly remembered for his ubiquitous Marina, but during his career he cultivated most patterns of theatrical music, from Italian opera to comic and historical zarzuela – and also the buffo style which defines Potosí, a pattern derived from the world of Offenbach’s opéras féeriques, which presented sharp political and social critiques in crazy environments. Similar works triumphed in Spain during the turbulent six years of the Liberal Sexennial (1868-74), thanks to the Bufos Arderíus company, which combined satire and spiciness in spectacular stagings which revolutionized the world of Spanish music theatre. El Potosí Submarino (1870) was one of its most successful shows.

The challenge of presenting El Potosí Submarino today is complex. First comes the need to update the text in tune with today’s audience. Rafael García Santisteban’s original libretto, well-written and with telling strokes of humour, was full of contemporary references in a time of great political upheaval, given the arrival in Madrid of King Amadeo of Savoy and the assassination of the Prime Minister Juan Prim. The revival’s director Rafael Villalobos has decided to move the action to the 1990s, in the hungover aftermath of the splendours of ‘92. An initial video helps locate us, through images not only of the Seville Expo and the Barcelona Olympics (with the surreal encounter between the two mascots, Curro and Cobi), but also popular figures such as Raffaella Carrà and the controversial Jesús Gil. The reference connects well with the story of El Potosí Submarino, centred on a swindler who takes advantage of the fevered pursuit of easy money and political corruption – a potent theme in 1870 and 1993, but also today and I fear in the future.

Villalobos has extensively revised Santisteban’s original, writing new verse texts embracing current references. These are numerous, and sometimes very successful – such as the political references of the ‘cable song’, which met with strong audience approval. The transformation of Princess Perlina into Bárbara Rey and the presence of a renowned mayor also capture the public mood. But it must be said that the new text, though coherently well-written, poses two problems. Far from distilling the dialogue, it expands it unnecessarily, excessively lengthening the evening and slowing the pace. This is especially noticeable in the first act, where the performers are forced to recite long lines of verse, which would have been better compressed. In addition, the references to Spain in 1993, although recognizable, do not quite connect with the audience because they are also pretty distant; while the repeated references to Spain’s decadence, in a naïve moralizing tone, become somewhat tiresome.

Visually the production is confusing, perhaps because the theatre’s organisational problems forced it to recycle elements of Nebra’s La violación de Lucrecia, also produced by Villalobos and his set designer Emanuele Sinisi, which was seen here in 2023. What was originally a single-act set does service here for three, with only a change of props – a modern hall, an underworld club, and a building site where politicians attend an inauguration. Curiously – for the first time here in a long time – the piece is seen as it was conceived, in three acts with two breaks, avoiding one forced cut in the middle. It is nothing better to look at than the routine jobs we sadly see so often in opera houses, contributing nothing while eliminating the idea of grand spectacular so important to the original. In fact, the middle act at the bottom of the sea is barely comprehensible as such, transformed into a glitter-spangled nightclub. So the surreal chorus of amphibians (the ‘suripantas’) misfires, and festive moments such as the lively ‘velocipedists’ polka’ are downbeat and lacklustre. This is not a minor quibble, since El Potosí Submarino should not have been planned conceptually, but as a grand visual spectacle in the spirit of Paco Mir’s fabled production of Los sobrinos del capitán Grant, strong in fans’ memory over so many seasons. In the event, it would not have been a bad idea to promote Arrieta’s subtitle Journey to the Bottom of the Sea, with its double meaning, to guide an audience that cannot intuitively understand the show’s title.

Having said which, Villalobos has done a good job in staging the piece, working very well with the entire cast, both in the musical numbers and dialogue scenes, to create amusing comedy characters – even those we have seen performing in other modes, such as the tenors Alejandro del Cerro and Juan Sancho, and the protagonist, the swindler Misisipí, well-played by Manel Esteve. Among the women, Carolina Moncada’s contribution stood out as the not-so-naïve Celia, highly entertaining in the far from easy patter song of the ‘velocicosedora’, full of onomatopoeic effects. The welcome presence of María Rey-Joly as Perlina and the always-effective Rafa Castejón (Pale-Ale, a spoken role) shone amongst the very full cast list.

Arrieta’s score shows us a freer and more dynamic facet of the Navarrese composer, in flight from the bel canto formalisms of Italian opera. There are seventeen very varied numbers, none of them long, in which ensembles and choral parts predominate, without a lack of duets and solo songs. Undoubtedly the brilliant contribution of the Coro titular del Teatro de la Zarzuela, directed by Antonio Fauró, magnificent in stage and sound, understanding well the stylistic need for grace and clarity in articulation of the text, must be highlighted. The Mexican conductor Iván López Reynoso projected Arrieta’s score elegantly, seeking out rhythmic clarity and woodwind colours, although he had to fight against some instabilities to which the Orquesta de Comunidad de Madrid has accustomed us, in keeping time with the stage.

With the final curtain came well-deserved applause all round, for a successful, lively and coherent performance in both dramatic and musical execution. We must hope that the theatrical grace of El Potosí Submarino and the beauty of its music will surface again on other occasions, here and in other places, breaking the vicious dynamic in which a national theatre is immersed in an objective which goes no further than premiering productions and then ditching them. We go out humming the tunes, which in another context would make authentically popular songs, although in the twenty-first century that is not easy. In any case, this Potosí… gives musical pleasure and promotes reflection while having fun – the authentic essence of zarzuela.

© Víctor Sánchez Sánchez and zarzuela.net 2025

Cast: Misisipí Manel Esteve, Celia Carolina Moncada, Cardona Alejandro del Cerro, Perlina María Rey-Joly, Coralina Mercedes Gancedo, Príncipe Escamón Juan Sancho, Caracolina Marina Fita Monfort, Pale-Ale Rafa Castejón, Maestro de ceremonias Luis Tausía, Tenor Ricardo Rubio, Alcaldesa Helena Dueñas, Marcelino Hugo Díaz, Guardia Civil Magadela Aizpurua, Cerve Milena Barquilla, Cita José Carpe. Conductor Iván López Reynoso, director and costumes Rafael R. Villalobos, designer Emanuele Sinisi, lighting Felipe Ramos, video María Cañas.

en español
Emilio Arrieta
homepage - zarzuela.net

26/XI/2025