Verdi, Nabucco: Greek National Opera, Elias Voudouris (conductor) Olympia Theater, Athens 4.03.2007 (BM)

 

 

Take it from someone who knows what he’s talking about: according to GNO orchestra’s principal oboist (who gave an exquisite introduction to the “prisoners’ chorus” theme at the beginning of the overture), this was perhaps the most memorable night in his 18 years in the pit of Olympia Theater, the kind you were unlikely to ever see in Greece until not too long ago - unless you watched them on DVD, that is. Artistic director Stefanos Lazaridis’ mission to rouse his compatriot’s interest in opera is paying off – and the proof is a run of sold-out performances of director Julia Pevzner’s compelling staging of Nabucco. Though visions of Nazi Germany dominated the sets and costumes (by Antonis Daglidis and Tota Pritsa respectively), images of oppression and abuse of power from almost every part of the world and just as many time frames, including, above all, the present, were invoked - on stage and in the program, a fantastic bilingual edition, still to be had at the theater for those interested. Hence, what each member of the audience saw on the stage was presumably strongly linked to their own background. The searchlights sweeping over our heads when Nabucco sang “son dio!” could have been those at the border between West and East Germany before 1989, and who knows how many faces looked familiar to those present on all the missing persons posters held up by the GNO chorus (truly coming into its own now under Nikos Vassiliou) during their stirring rendition of “va pensiero”. The GNO orchestra, not surprisingly, was clearly motivated and at its best for this performance under one of their veteran conductors.

 

The human voice predominates in Nabucco, so that the characters are doubtless more strongly defined by music than Temistocle Solera’s beautiful words: nonetheless it was a joy to be able to understand almost all of the Italian thanks to the flawless diction of the great Leo Nucci, who gave a searing rendition of one of his best known roles. Mark Rucker, who sang the title role on the first two evenings, was also first-rate, though perhaps less aggressive and commanding than his Italian counterpart. Naturally, one of the great triumphs of this production was that GNO was able to recruit Maria Guleghina to sing Abigaille. With her dark, powerful soprano, she has the incredibly unique kind of voice you have to hear for yourself to believe – and she is so sure of herself that she can even afford to embellish the score with additional ornaments whenever she so chooses. Fenena was sung by an outstanding Victoria Maifatova, an excellent singer, who deserves more attention than she has been afforded to date. Zaccaria and Ismaele were performed by Dimitri Kavrakos and Ivan Momirov, both excellent but maybe a bit more competent than charismatic.

 

It was amusing that during intermission on opening night, all spotlights focused on prominent entrepreneur Gianna Angelopoulou, best known for pulling off a successful Olympic Games in Athens under difficult circumstances in 2004, as well as for her well-nigh unbelievably impeccable grooming besides having recently become a patron of the arts (albeit not for this particular production). And lest this remark be misconstrued as facetious, I hasten to add that the livelihood of opera in this country depends on sponsors like her, since our governments have certainly never shown much interest in promoting the artistic talent that Greece has to offer. This sad fact was often invoked by the great Greek baritone Kostas Paskalis, who passed away a month ago, on February 9th, and was himself a celebrated Nabucco in his day. (One of the last interviews he gave was published on his 77th birthday here). I reckon it is safe to say that he would have been proud to see a production like this staged at GNO, and it is very fitting that these performances of Verdi’s great opera were dedicated to his memory. 



Bettina Mara

 

 

Pictures © Stefanos / Greek National Opera

 

This review is dedicated to Jonathan Markel, who gave me his ticket to the sold-out premiere (BM)