Verdi’s first version
of Simon Boccanegra was written for a commission from
the Teatro la Fenice in Venice for the 1856-57 season. The subject
was ideal for Verdi, involving both parent-child relationship
and revolutionary politics. The political aspect caused the
local censor to give composer and Piave, his librettist, a hard
time despite the action being set in 14th century
Genoa. The gloomy subject-matter allied to Piave’s rather rambling
libretto, including a twenty-year gap between the prologue and
the resumption of the plot, did not help audiences. At its
premiere on 12 March 1857 Verdi’s 21st opera was, in his own
words, a greater fiasco than La Traviata. The critics
of the time wrote about the lack of easily remembered arias
and melodies. A production at Naples went better but that at
La Scala in 1859 was a 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 its 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 1879 he 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 opera based on Shakespeare’s Otello, 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
other suggestions for Otello, would himself revise Piave’s
libretto, the composer agreed to undertake the task. The Otello
project, a close secret and code-named ‘chocolate’, was
put on hold but not forgotten The revised Simon Boccanegra
was a triumph at La Scala on 24 March 1881 and it is in
this later form that we know the opera today. This is the version
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 the incognito 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 to act 1. This added scene takes place in the
Council Chamber and is one of the mature Verdi’s most dramatic
musical creations. Its music is 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 and that which precedes Amelia’s Come
in quest’ora bruna. 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. An audio recording of the original version
of 1857 is available from Opera Rara.
Directing opera
does not appear on Peter Stein’s CV very frequently, mores the
pity as he always seems to be able to get to the crux of the
work in question. I well remember the coup that Welsh National
Opera achieved in drawing him to Cardiff to direct Verdi’s great
final masterpieces, Otello and Falstaff. He is
not a producer for the scenic spectacular and is always able
to work to a tight budget as far as sets and costumes are concerned.
In this respect this production, with sets by Stefan Meyer,
first seen at Salzburg and then Florence prior to its arrival
at the Vienna State Opera in October 2002, is typical. The prologue
(Chs 2-10), opens on a bare stage; later curtains part to reveal
a sparse but effective Patrician Palace. Fiesco’s figure is
superimposed as Simon approaches its open door. Likewise, act
1 opens with a plain horizon as the music (Ch 9), so evocative
of the sea, introduces Amelia and her aria Comme in quest’ora
bruna (Ch 10). This sparseness, and that of the final acts,
contrasts sharply with the more extensive sets for the Council
Chamber Scene (Chs 19-23) with the Doge sitting on the Ducal
throne above and centre to the two factions, patricians and
plebeians. This scene is that which Boito added for Verdi’s
revision of the opera and is one of the great challenges for
a Verdi baritone. It is vocally and histrionically on a par
with that presented to the singer of the role of Rigoletto.
At various times I have expressed doubt about Thomas Hampson
as a true Verdi baritone. His Di
Luna impressed me but I found his Germont in Willy Decker’s
2005 Salzburg production of La
Traviata unbelievably wooden in both his singing and acting.
In this production he is unrecognisable with acting of sincerity
allied to Verdi singing of the highest order. If he lacks that
last bit of Italianata of Cappuccilli in Abbado’s memorable
audio recording (DG) then his American birth is responsible.
Of the current native Italian Verdi baritones I can think of
no one who could match Hampson’s vivid and totally committed
interpretation here. In the filming of the Council Chamber scene
there are one or two superimposed pictures to show the stage
activity with a lot of close-ups as well. These come to the
fore in terms of dramatic impact as they focus on Hampson’s
Doge as he descends the steps from his throne and circles the
increasingly shifty-looking Paolo Albiani of Boaz Daniel whose
facial expression of fear is outstanding. But it is Hampson’s
characterisation and interpretation throughout the several facets
of the Doge’s responses during this scene that have prior claim
on your praise. So to his singing and acting in acts 2 and 3
as he forgives Gabriele Adorno, strongly but not sensitively
sung by Miroslav Dvorsky.
Peter Stein’s directorial
influence draws out excellent acting from Cristina Gallardo-Domas
as Amelia Grimaldi and Ferruccio Furlanetto as Fiesco. She is
no bland wimp; she breathes feistiness and one can well believe
her statement that she had made Lorendano fearful of holding
her captive and thus allowing her to escape to the Ducal Palace
and the protection of her father. There is a price to pay in
the odd moment of impure tone but otherwise hers is a very believable
interpretation and as valid as Kiri Te Kanawa’s on the otherwise
undistinguished audio version conducted by Solti
or Nuccia Focile’s very lyric interpretation on the live recording
from the 2000
New Zealand festival production. Ferruccio Furlanetto is
one of the finest of native Italian Verdi basso cantante
voices currently before the public. Although looking rather
too old in the prologue his singing of the showpiece Il lacerato
spirito (Ch 5) is sonorous and secure although he
has to reach for his lowest notes. His appearance in the later
acts, set over twenty years later, is more appropriate whilst
his acting is even more convincing and full of pathos as Fiesco
is finally reconciled with Simon (Ch 37).
Peter Stein draws
out very fine acting from this cast with his view of the opera
clearly focused on the human relationships and interactions
of the story rather than the political perspective. For a grander
approach on DVD, Gian Carlo Del Monaco’s opulent Met
production conducted by Levine with Te Kanawa as Amelia,
Domingo an ardent Gabriele and Chernov an impressive Boccanegra
is a complement rather than a rival. I do not know if any video
recording of Strehler’s 1976 La Scala production exists, and
it was widely performed including at London’s Covent Garden,
but a more recent Abbado performance is available on DVD. Otherwise
Hampson’s portrayal of Boccanegra is one of his finest and will
not disappoint. Another virtue is the absence of raucous applause
and regular curtain calls at the end of acts; so often present
on Vienna live audio and video recordings. Here, each act moves
to the next without interruption.
Robert J Farr