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