Since 1997, Teatro Grattacielo has aired one seldom-heard verismo opera— the slice-of-life, so-called realism favored by late 19^th and early 20^th Century Italian composers—per season at Alice Tully Hall. On November 25, thanks to this company, those of us to whom “Guglielmo Ratcliff” was just a title in the list of Pietro Mascagni’s 15 operas were given a rare opportunity to experience the work behind the name. The conductor was Alfredo Silipigni, who, as head of the New Jersey State Opera, has also championed Mascagni’s “Iris,” “Lodoletta,” “ Zanetto,” and “Silvano,” as well as the better-known “ Cavalleria Rusticana,” the composer’s one undisputed success, and the pastoral “L’Amico Fritz.”

Mascagni began “Ratcliff” well before “Cavalleria,” but its premiere at La Scala, Milan—first of his operas introduced there—did not take place until five years after that of the popular one-act opus. “ ;Ratcliff” is unusual, but not unique, in that it is a direct setting of Heinrich Heine’s play, rather than of a drama reworked as an opera libretto, and is made up, consequently, of very long monologues, which don’ ;t quite feel like arias, and few ensembles and a negligible chorus part. Surprisingly lyrical, as led by Silipigni, the opera’s thunderous moments grow organically out of the lyric line, rather than arriving suddenly and jaggedly. “Ratcliff” comes off, largely, though, as a vehicle for heroic tenor, the mad protagonist, with other characters relegated to recounting past events and given scant fleshing out.

The opera takes place in a Scottish castle, the sort of setting Donizetti and other early 19^th Century bel canto composers employed, but boasts enough mayhem and murder to satisfy the most ardent verist. The outlaw Guglielmo Ratcliff has been rejected by his beloved Maria McGregor and, haunted by the specters of his father and her mother, whose union was also thwarted, has made good a vow to slay her subsequent suitors on their proposed wedding days. By the end of the opera, he has also killed his love and her father.

Guglielmo Ratcliff was portrayed by tenor Lando Bartolini, who has been singing locally and in Europe for 30 years and whose instrument has held up remarkably well. Bartolini capably delivered a demanding first monologue, declaring that he and Maria are destined for each other and limning the ghosts they resemble. He later illuminated the anti-hero’s increasingly mad ravings about Hell, spirits and vindictive, whistling winds and caressing address to his pistol, enticing him to end his life.

Tenor Lando Bartolini and conductor Alfredo Silipignio

Her big moments relegated to the fourth and final act, soprano Carol Ann Manzi, as Maria, sang stirringly and cleanly of her passion, after all, for the wild Guglielmo and joined him for an intense climactic duet. Despite an announced indisposition, mezzo-soprano Eugenie Grunewald, as Margherita, Maria’s mad old nurse, solidly delivered a lengthy narrative about Bella-Elisa and Edvardo, parents, respectively, of Maria and Guglielmo. Metropolitan Opera bass Philip Cokorinos, as MacGregor, offered a resonant monologue about the assassination of his daughter’s swains and baritone Brian Davis made a sturdy Douglas, Ratcliff’s final rival.

Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center