Falstaff was 
                the culmination of Verdi’s long career as an opera composer. He 
                had talked of retirement after the premiere of Un Ballo in 
                Maschera in 1858 and really did believe he had laid down his 
                compositional pen after Aida in 1871. But nearly a decade 
                later, persuaded by his publisher, he embarked on a rewriting 
                of Simon Boccanegra which had been premiered in 1857. This 
                involved his working with Arrigo Boito, an accomplished librettist 
                and also a composer; it was an association Verdi came to relish. 
                The revised Boccanegra was a success at La Scala in 1881 
                and showed that even at the age of 68 Verdi’s inner genius was 
                alive and well. Ricordi and Boito subtly pointed Verdi towards 
                Shakespeare’s Otello. Verdi loved and revered Shakespeare 
                above any other poet. Slowly, via constant personal contact and 
                communication Otello was written. It was premiered at La 
                Scala, six years after the revised Boccanegra. Verdi was 
                then 74 years of age and really did think he had finished operatic 
                composition. But he had not allowed for Boito. Three years after 
                the premiere of Otello Verdi wrote to a friend What 
                can I tell you? I’ve wanted to write a comic opera for forty years, 
                and I’ve known ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’ for fifty… however, 
                the usual buts and I don’t know if I will ever finish it…I am 
                enjoying myself. Boito’s vital contribution in enabling Verdi 
                to match Shakespeare was in his capacity for drawing out a taut 
                libretto from the plays concerned. He had reduced Otello by 
                six-sevenths and in Falstaff reduces the 23 characters 
                in The Merry Wives of Windsor to just ten in the opera. 
                Verdi wrote Falstaff for his own enjoyment. Inevitably 
                during its composition his mind must have wandered back to the 
                tragic domestic circumstances of the death of his wife and children 
                that surrounded the failure of his only other comic opera, Il 
                Giorno di Regno, at La Scala in 1840. With Falstaff 
                the outcome was utterly different. Verdi’s 28th and final opera, 
                ‘my little enjoyment’ as he called it, was all he could have hoped 
                for. It was a triumph at its premiere at La Scala on 9 February 
                1893. The greatest Italian composer ever was 80 years of age. 
                It was a magnificent operatic culmination to a great career as 
                an opera composer.
                
              Verdi’s 
                orchestration in Falstaff, with 
                its final fugue, represents a challenge 
                to even the best of the conductors with 
                a natural feel for the Verdian melodic 
                line and idiom. None has been considered 
                to have had this feel more than Arturo 
                Toscanini. His presence in the orchestra 
                of La Scala at the premiere of Otello, 
                gave him many privileged insights, albeit 
                his tendency in his later years to over-drive 
                the tempi detracted from them. But as 
                with the famous 1956 audio recording 
                of Falstaff conducted by Karajan 
                the man on the rostrum can make or break 
                a performance. That Karajan performance 
                scintillated and was recorded at a time 
                when the conductor on this performance, 
                Carlo Maria Giulini, was dominating 
                the opera scene at La Scala. Much of 
                his work in that theatre was in association 
                with the Luchino Visconti in charge 
                of the production side as was the case 
                in the memorable performances of Don 
                Carlo at Covent Garden in 1958.  
                Recollecting those cooperative occasions 
                Giulini recounted how conductor and 
                producer would attend all the rehearsals 
                of the other. In that way a dramatically 
                cohesive whole ended up on stage; many 
                memorable performances of that level 
                of cooperation are still remembered 
                and recounted by those privileged to 
                have been present. By the end of the 
                nineteen-sixties opera production and 
                producers had changed as had singers’ 
                attitudes and Giulini, a man of deep 
                feelings and belief, found himself out 
                of sympathy with the developments. In 
                consequence he withdrew his significant 
                insights into the conducting of opera, 
                and particularly Verdi, from staged 
                performances and also the recording 
                studio. With promises of full commitment 
                of all concerned his record company 
                tempted him back into the recording 
                studio for Verdi’s Rigoletto with 
                Domingo, Cappuccilli and Cotrubas (DG 
                Originals 457 753-2). With that hurdle 
                surmounted negotiations for him to conduct 
                a staged production of Falstaff shared 
                between Los Angeles, Covent Garden and 
                Florence in 1982-83 were successful. 
                A live audio recording was made in Los 
                Angeles and issued by DG with the staged 
                performance at Covent Garden being recorded 
                for TV transmission by Brian Large. 
                How far Giulini was able to stipulate 
                a traditional production has been debated. 
                What is certain is that Hayden Griffin’s 
                sets, Michael Stennett’s costumes and 
                Ronald Eyre’s production would have 
                been recognised by Verdi as well as 
                pleasing Giulini. Only the first scene 
                at the Garter Inn was rather cramped 
                for the action that ensues.
                Giulini’s conducting 
                of Falstaff is affectionate without being cloying. He is 
                fleet as the wives do their plotting (CH 4) and the lovers serenade 
                each other (CH 6) and appropriately serious and violent as Ford, 
                in his jealousy, searches his house for the would-be seducer (CHs 
                12-13). Overall Giulini treats Falstaff with an element of seriousness 
                that I consider to be in the plot and the music. Falstaff is not 
                a buffa opera and the humiliations of Falstaff have a bitter flavour, 
                which the conductor catches. In the name part Renato Bruson gives 
                a commanding performance vocally and histrionically. His burnished 
                baritone is full of colour, his legato and enunciation of the 
                text full of nuance. Add the twinkling eyes of a benevolent professor 
                and this assumption is not of an egotistical seducer. He is portly 
                without an over-excessive belly and when he dresses up to visit 
                the ladies and sings a mezza voce ‘when I was a page’ it 
                is easy to imagine him fancying his chances (CH 9). Bruson’s is 
                a consummate portrayal fully realised. As Falstaff goes off to 
                put on his finery Ford, fearing he is being cuckolded has his 
                monologue. Nucci is more convincing here than in many of his Verdi 
                portrayals although I find other audio and video recorded interpretations 
                far superior. Katia Ricciarelli as Alice looks lovely and fines 
                down her big voice to give a portrayal  that is vocally as well 
                as visually convincing (CH 4). Brenda Boozer as Meg is required 
                to make less of a contribution than her colleagues and whilst 
                looking significantly younger does her part justice. Lucia Valentina-Terrani 
                is a traditional Quickly, her bustle making her look oversized. 
                She is not as convincing an actress as her colleagues. Vocally 
                she has all the notes and her facial expressions add to the sonority 
                of those evocative reverenzas with which she approaches 
                Falstaff (CH 7). Barbara Hendricks as Nannetta cannot quite match 
                the sincerity of her acting with the ideal lightness of floated 
                phrase although in the final scene under the over-large Hermes 
                oak she is vocally most appealing (CH 20). Dalmacio Gonzales both 
                looks the part of her ardent lover and sings with honeyed tone 
                (CH 18). The character parts of Bardolph and Dr Caius are in the 
                capable hand of Covent Garden stalwarts Francis Egerton and John 
                Dobson.
                
              Many people watching 
                this recording will wonder why operas such as Falstaff are 
                not seen nowadays in such traditional productions any more. Well, 
                Giulini may have had the answer in that the producer now reigns 
                not the music let alone the conductor. Graham Vick’s over-coloured 
                and overactive Covent Garden production with Bryn Terfel (BBC 
                Pioneer 1025) is typical of the more modern approach, as is that 
                by Luca Ronconi conducted by Mehta (Review). 
                The 2001 performance in 16:9 format from the Teatro Verdi in Busseto 
                conducted by Muti, given to mark the centenary of Verdi’s death 
                is a serious rival to this traditional staging. It replicates 
                the staging of that performed in the same theatre in 1913 conducted 
                by Toscanini. The vocal size of Ambrogio Maestri’s Falstaff matches 
                his physical dimensions, not that the later inhibits his acting 
                or movements or the nuance and variety of colour of his singing. 
                The wives are well matched and with Roberto Frontali is a strong 
                Ford. And Inva Mula and Juan Diego Florez are vocally mellifluous 
                lovers. The impact of the production can only be faulted in the 
                restricted stage size of the small Busseto theatre (TDK DV-OPFAL).
                Robert J Farr