It was during Verdi’s 
                  presence in Paris in 1855 for the production of Les Vêpres 
                  Siciliennes that he accepted a commission from the Teatro 
                  la Fenice in Venice for the 1856-57 season. He decided on the 
                  subject of Simon Boccanegra, based like Il Trovatore on 
                  a play by Guttiérrez. It was an ideal subject for Verdi, involving 
                  a parent-child relationship and revolutionary politics in which 
                  the composer had always involved himself in occupied Italy. 
                  Given the political background of the subject, and despite the 
                  action being set in 14th century Genoa, the censors 
                  gave Verdi and his librettist, Piave, a hard time. The composer 
                  held out and the opera was premiered on 12 March 1857. It was, 
                  in Verdi’s own words ‘a greater fiasco than La Traviata’, 
                  whose failure could be attributed to casting and was quickly 
                  reversed. The critics of the time wrote about the gloomy subject 
                  matter and the lack of easily remembered arias and melodies. 
                  A production at Naples went better but that at La Scala in 1859 
                  was an even bigger fiasco than Venice. The composer had moved 
                  his musical idiom much too far for his audiences and he wrote 
                  ‘The music of Boccanegra is of a kind that does not make its 
                  effect immediately. It is very elaborate, written with the most 
                  exquisite craftsmanship and needs to be studied in all it details’. 
                  Verdi’s regard for his composition, and he was his own sternest 
                  critic, meant that although the work fell into neglect, the 
                  possibility of revision and revival was never far from his mind. 
                  In 1880 the composer had written nothing substantial since his 
                  Requiem in 1874 and no opera since Aida ten years 
                  earlier. His publisher, Ricordi, raised the subject of a re-write 
                  of Boccanegra. Although in private he was seriously considering 
                  Boito’s proposals for an Otello opera, in public he gave 
                  the impression that he had hung up his pen. When Ricordi told 
                  Verdi that Boito, who was providing him with synopses and suggestions 
                  for Otello, would himself revise the libretto, the composer 
                  agreed to undertake the task. The secret project codenamed ‘Chocolate’, 
                  in fact Otello, was put on hold but not forgotten. The 
                  revision was a triumph at La Scala on 24 March 1881 and it is 
                  in this later form that we know the opera today and which is 
                  featured on this recording.
                The story of Simon 
                  Boccanegra concerns the political conflict between the Patricians 
                  of Genoa lead by Fiesco and the Plebeian faction. Fiesco’s daughter 
                  Maria has loved the eponymous corsair and borne him a daughter. 
                  Simon wishes to make peace with Fiesco and marry Maria. Paolo 
                  Albiani and Pietro, members of the Plebeian faction propose 
                  to nominate Simon for Doge, but he refuses until persuaded with 
                  the thought that if he were Doge Fiesco would be unable to thwart 
                  him. But it is too late as Maria has died and her daughter, 
                  in Simon’s care, has disappeared. Later the missing daughter 
                  is discovered as the unknowing ward of Fiesco. Simon discovers 
                  the fact after promising her hand to Paolo as reward for helping 
                  him to power. His reversal of that decision sets the scene for 
                  her later abduction. Simon, as Doge tries to placate the differences 
                  between the parties in the new scene that Boito added (CD 1 
                  trs. 14-17 and CD 2 tr.1). This scene, added by Boito, takes 
                  place in the Council Chamber and is one of the mature Verdi’s 
                  most dramatic musical creations. Its music is very clearly a 
                  near relative of that in Otello. Its drama contrasts 
                  sharply with the first scene with its quiet E major chords that 
                  are so evocative of the sea and flowing tides (CD 1 trs.1-2), 
                  and that which precedes Amelia’s Come in quest’ora bruna 
                  (CD 1 trs. 7-8). They reflect Verdi’s intimate knowledge of 
                  a town where he and his wife spent most winters and owned an 
                  apartment. As well as the addition of the Council Chamber scene 
                  there are many other differences between the 1880 revision and 
                  the 1857 original that make comparisons captivating for Verdi 
                  enthusiasts. A recording of the original version of 1857 is 
                  available from Opera Rara. 
                
                The orchestral colours 
                  and the drama of the plot are paramount in any performance of 
                  this opera. On record the outstanding studio recording of the 
                  work is that so marvellously conducted by Abbado and featuring 
                  Pierro Cappuccilli as Boccanegra in one of his best-recorded 
                  portrayals (DG Originals). That 1977 recording was made in association 
                  with staged performances at La Scala. In this New Zealand recording 
                  the work benefits greatly from the frisson of a live performance 
                  adding to the idiomatic conducting of Marco Guidarini whose 
                  contribution can stand beside that of Abbado, a sublime interpreter 
                  of those Verdi operas in his repertoire. But a performance of 
                  Simon Boccanegra stands or falls on the singing of the 
                  eponymous part. On this recording Gordon Hawkins, not a name 
                  previously known to me, fills every histrionic and vocal requirement 
                  to give a consummate portrayal whether as loving father (CD 
                  1 trs. 11-12 and CD 2 trs 6-7), imperious ruler in the Council 
                  Chamber or in making his peace with Fiesco and nominating Gabriele, 
                  his erstwhile enemy, as his successor as he dies from Paolo’s 
                  poisoning. I find that Hawkins has sung in America and Europe 
                  but not, as far as I can see, at the ‘best addresses’ despite 
                  good notices. His portrayal here denotes a considerable Verdi 
                  baritone, a species of some rarity! Boccanegra’s foe Fiesco, 
                  is a singer listed as Vladamir Vaneev. He sings his opening 
                  aria A te l’estremo addio…Il lacerato spirito (CD 1 tr. 
                  4) and concluding phrases of the opera as Fiesco announces the 
                  death of Boccanegra to the populace with steady sonority, secure 
                  tone and gravitas (CD 2 tr. 13). He is not so successful at 
                  characterisation in the inter-personal scenes such as when Fiesco 
                  meets Gabriele who tells Fiesco of his love for Amelia (CD 1 
                  tr. 10) and I wondered where his true fach lies. Is he the same 
                  Vladamir Vaneev who is a member of the Mariinsky Company, and 
                  is designated bass-baritone? This singer has appeared as The 
                  Grand Inquisitor in 2000 in Bonn, Boris (Venice, La Scala, Lisbon) 
                  and Wotan in Die Walküre. If so then my thoughts are 
                  confirmed that his is a solid voice but not a natural Verdi 
                  cantante. That being stated, his contribution here is no great 
                  weakness. Nuccia Focile, as Amelia, is the only native-born 
                  Italian in the cast. Her light, bright soprano is well suited 
                  to the role and her singing well characterised. She may not 
                  have the tonal variety or richness of New Zealander Kiri Te 
                  Kanawa in Solti’s otherwise undistinguished recording, 
                  but her singing is fully able to express Amelia’s variety of 
                  emotions as she first recognises her father, is later spurned 
                  by her uncomprehending lover and finally in the pain and glory 
                  of the final dénouement. Her real life husband Paul Charles 
                  Clarke takes the role of her lover, Gabriele; both are stalwarts 
                  of Welsh National Opera in the UK. His tightly focused bright 
                  tenor is musical and fills Verdi’s demands for lyric singing 
                  and dramatic outbursts to the full. He could well pass for an 
                  Italian tenor, a fact perhaps related to some home tuition. 
                  Yaron Windmüller who is variable in tone and steadiness portrays 
                  the nasty Paolo, rising well to the conclusion to the Council 
                  Chamber scene when Simon calls upon him to curse the abductor 
                  of Amelia, which is he himself (CD 2 tr. 1). As his fellow conspirator 
                  Pietro, Martin Snell is a little gruff at times. The chorus 
                  sing with plenty of enthusiasm but lack, inevitably but noticeably, 
                  some degree of Italianata.
                The recording is 
                  vivid and warm. Applause does not intrude into the dramatic 
                  flow, being restricted to the end of acts; a commendable practice. 
                  I enjoyed this vibrant performance and the New Zealand Festival 
                  should be proud of its achievement. 
                With the benefits 
                  of a live performance, idiomatic conducting, and a vibrant recording 
                  allied to an outstanding portrayal of the title role, this recording 
                  thrilled my Verdian soul, as I am sure it would have warmed 
                  the great man himself. 
                Robert J Farr