I suppose this was
always bound to be something rather
special - Verdi’s greatest drama picked
as the last production before one of
the world’s most famous opera houses
shut for major refurbishment. Add to
that the last assumption of the title
role by the finest Otello of our generation,
Italy’s most respected maestro in the
pit and the appetite is well and truly
whetted. I should also point out that
the huge responsibility for directing
such an important production fell to
one of our own, Graham Vick, and shows
the esteem in which many Britain’s theatre
directors are held.
It was probably never
on the cards that Vick would do anything
controversial given the circumstances,
and true to form he gives us a commendably
‘straight’ production, period costumes,
swords etc., and it’s none the worse
for it. Veteran Ezio Frigerio’s huge
grey circular design is the central
image, emphasising the tragic circle
unfolding before our eyes, yet allowing
space for the characters to rightly
dominate the action.
Domingo never gives
less than full commitment in any performance,
but here he is obviously inspired to
go the extra yard. The voice has darkened
considerably in the last few years,
but in this part that can be an advantage.
Yes, it does mean we don’t get quite
the spine-tingling ‘Exultate’ entrance
that we got on disc for Chung (DG) or
especially for Levine back in the 1970s
(RCA). But it must be remembered that
this is a stage performance, a long
night for him, and things must be carefully
graded. What we do get is superb acting
coupled with a rich, almost baritonal
voice that reminded me of Toscanini’s
Otello, Ramon Vinay, and there can be
no higher praise. Throughout the production
there are illuminations of character
and subtle eye contacts, none of which
are lost on the TV director. His descent
into a jealous rage bordering on madness
is charted with unnerving accuracy,
and one really does feel for his Desdemona,
which of course one should.
In this part we have
the superb Barbara Frittoli, looking
and sounding virtually ideal. It becomes
easy to see why this Desdemona is adored
by everyone, young and old; the vulnerability
displayed in the famous ‘Willow Song’
goes straight to the heart. She manages
to vary each repetition of the verses
minutely, thus avoiding any hint of
boredom or note-spinning that can happen
in the wrong hands.
Doubts were expressed
about the Iago of Leo Nucci, but I have
to say I have no problem here. He is
not the larger-than-life villain we
used to get from, say, Sherrill Milnes,
thrilling though that was. He is small
in stature (certainly against Domingo)
but this only makes the subtle insinuations
and conniving that much more serpent-like.
The voice, as can be heard in his ‘Credo’,
is still in immensely fine fettle, and
he matches Domingo all the way in the
great duet that closes Act 2, ‘Si, pel
ciel’. He was a marvellous Scarpia in
Muti’s Scala Tosca recently,
and many of those fine qualities are
on show here, particularly the stage
experience and lack of corny gestures.
Muti’s conducting also
has an edge that may be to do with the
occasion. His Tosca I found a
little run-of-the-mill, but here he
sets the pit alight with the sort of
performance we used to expect from him,
daring, urgent, rhythmically alive and
inspiring his orchestra to give of their
best. He is also alert to the tender
moments, and I have rarely heard the
glorious cello passage that starts the
Act 1 love duet (‘Gia nella notte’)
phrased more persuasively.
It is hard not to give
this a completely unqualified recommendation.
All the smaller roles are taken with
relish, camera work is effective and
unobtrusive, and Vick’s stagecraft must
be counted a triumph, from the large-scale
chorus work to the individual characterisations
he has helped mould. A special word
of praise too for one of his regular
collaborators, Matthew Richardson, whose
lighting helps get the most out of Frigerio’s
eye-catching designs. No extras on this
single DVD, but with a production of
this quality, who needs them?
Tony Haywood
Chorus and Orchestra of La Scala, Milan/Riccardo
Muti 
TDK
DVOPOTEL