Giuseppe VERDI (1813 – 1901)
Simon Boccanegra
Dmitri Hvorostovsky (baritone) – Simon Boccanegra; Barbara Frittoli
(soprano) – Amelia Grimaldi/Maria Boccanegra; Ildar Abdrazakov (bass)
– Jacopo Fiesco/Andrea; Stefano Secco (tenor) – Gabriele Adorno;
Kostas Smoriginas (baritone) – Pietro; Marco Caria (baritone) –
Paolo Albiani; Eglė Šidlauskaité (mezzo) – Amelia’s
Maid (Ancella); Kęstutis Alčauskis (tenor) – Captain (Capitano)
Kaunas State Choir, Kaunas City Symphony Orchestra/Constantine Orbelian
rec. Kaunas Philharmonic, Kaunas, Lithuania, 2013
Libretto with English translations enclosed
DELOS DE3457 [65:50 + 64:05]
Simon Boccanegra is possibly the darkest and most
gloomy of Verdi’s operas and it took some time before it became a repertoire
work. Even today it is one of the least performed among his mature works,
although a check on Operabase for a five-year period from 1 January 2011 reveals
38 different productions worldwide.
First performed in 1857 and then thoroughly revised in 1881 Simon Boccanegra
is stylistically closer to Otello than to, say, Un ballo in maschera.
The title character is also one of the most complex characters in all opera
– a dream role for a high baritone with acting abilities. It’s
worth mentioning that the first Boccanegra in the revised version was Victor
Maurel, who later was the first Iago and the first Falstaff. There were topflight
names by the side of Maurel at the 1881 premiere too: Édouard de Reszke was
Fiesco and Gabriele was sung by Francesco Tamagno, the legendary tenore robusto
whom Verdi chose for the title role in Otello six years later. Maurel
was one of the truly great singing-actors, seemingly comparable to Tito Gobbi
who also excelled in those three roles. Gobbi’s EMI recording of Simon
Boccanegra from the mid-1950s – where Fiesco is sung by another
great actor, Boris Christoff, and Maria by the heavenly Victoria de los Angeles
– is rightly regarded as an unsurpassable classic. It was equalled but
not surpassed – apart from sound quality – by DG’s La Scala
recording from the late 1970s, conducted by Claudio Abbado with Piero Cappuccilli,
Nicolai Ghiaurov and Mirella Freni in the three central roles. There have
been other recordings as well, including a somewhat earlier 1970s version,
also with Cappuccilli in the title role, and the pioneering Cetra recording
from 1951 with Paolo Silveri, Mario Petri and the young Antonietta Stella.
The Cetra had Carlo Bergonzi at his freshest as Gabriele Adorno. I derived
a lot of pleasure from that version too.
The present recording, set down less than two years ago, boasts today’s
foremost Verdi baritone, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, in the title role. Hvorostovsky,
born in Siberia, catapulted to the star-status when he won the BBC Cardiff
Singer of the World in 1989. Although he is now a shade over fifty he has
retained that initial beauty of tone and the ease of delivery. His top notes
still ring out effortlessly and gloriously, just as his velvety tone in softer
passages caresses the ear with undiminished freshness. Add to this his superb
breath-control and his surefooted sense for musical line and we have the most
beautiful reading of the role on records; I haven’t heard Thomas Hampson’s
though. Whether it is also the deepest and most involved characterisation
of the role is another matter. Tito Gobbi’s portrait of the Doge is
hard to outdo: he is Simon, and Cappuccilli’s is also a greatly
involving reading. Hvorostovsky runs him close and sings magically near the
end of act I: Plebe! Patrizi! Popolo! and in particular Piango
su voi. The final scene (CD 2 tr. 20) is gripping, primarily through
the warmth and inwardness of his singing. Throughout this version his is a
very convincing portrait of Boccanegra.
Barbara Frittoli has also had a long career but here she sometimes shows signs
of wear although she still sounds to be in goodish shape. Her vibrato, which
was always generous, has widened to something close to a wobble in the upper
middle register. The very top rings out more or less as before although the
tone has hardened and become rather squally and lacklustre. She recorded a
number of Verdi arias for Erato a dozen years earlier, including also Amelia’s
Come in quest’ora bruna and the difference was striking. Then,
when she was in her mid-thirties, the voice was smooth, youthful and steady
and she sang with little effort. Her later self here has several beautiful
moments and there is no lack of expression but by and large she is a disappointment.
Fiesco, one of the most imposing among a row of great Verdian bass roles,
is sung by Ildar Abdrazakov. His is one of those gigantic voices from Eastern
Europe: a typical Slavonic timbre, a magnificent instrument, voluminous but
with nuance galore. Il lacerate spirit (CD 1 tr. 3) is deeply involved.
Stefano Secco’s Gabriele Adorno is stylish and elegant and he has fine
lyrical qualities but he isn’t anywhere near Carreras or Bergonzi. Marco
Caria’s Paolo is rather dry-sounding but expressive and Kostas Smoriginas
sings Pietro with dark, dramatic voice.
Constantine Orbelian’s conducting is a bit too much laid-back and the
orchestra occasionally seems undernourished but this could be the fault of
the recording which is a bit variable. Simon sometimes seems unduly distant.
A first choice for a library version of Simon Boccanegra must still
be Abbado’s soon 40-year-old DG-recording with La Scala forces and a
uniformly excellent cast. For an even deeper characterisation of the title
role Santini’s recording from the 1950s with Tito Gobbi as Boccanegra
is also self-recommending. However, for the most beautiful singing of the
title role Hvorostovsky should be heard. With excellent singing from the rest
of the cast this is a worthy companion to the other two recordings.
Göran Forsling
Previous review:
Robert Farr
Support
us financially by purchasing this from |
|
 |
 |
 |
|