  | 
            | 
         
         
          |  
               
            
   
            
 alternatively 
              MDT 
              AmazonUK 
              AmazonUS
            | 
           
             Giuseppe VERDI (1813-1901) 
               
              Otello - Tragic opera in four acts (1887)  
                
              Otello, a Moor, commander in chief of the Venetian fleet - Jon Vickers 
              (tenor); Desdemona, his wife - Renata Scotto (soprano); Iago, an 
              ensign - Cornell MacNeil (baritone); Emelia, Iago’s wife - Jean 
              Kraft (mezzo); Cassio, a captain under Otello - Raymond Gibbs (tenor); 
              Roderigo, a Venetian gentleman - Andrea Velis (tenor); Lodovico, 
              Venetian ambassador - James Morris (bass-baritone)  
              Metropolitan Opera Chorus  
              Metropolitan Opera Orchestra/James Levine  
              Original Director and Set design: Franco Zeffirelli  
              Costume design: Peter J Hall  
              Video Director: Kirk Browning  
              rec. 25 September 1978  
              LPCM Stereo. DTS 5.1 surround Region free NTSC DVD. Colour.  
              Original tapes restored in an attempt to meet current technical 
              standards  
              Subtitles and leaflet introduction in English  
                
              SONY CLASSICAL   
              88697910129 [144:00]  
           | 
         
         
          |  
            
           | 
         
         
           
             
               
                Otello was Verdi’s first totally new operatic composition since 
                  Aida premiered in 1871. It was not that he had been idle. 
                  His Requiem for Manzoni had followed in 1874 and he travelled 
                  widely in Europe conducting his works. His friends among the 
                  Milan literati thought he had more operatic composition in him 
                  despite his being in his seventh decade. A number of them quietly 
                  plotted to tempt him, his knowledge and love of Shakespeare 
                  being paramount in their thoughts. With the aid of a dinner 
                  invitation from Verdi’s wife, who was in on the plot, his publisher, 
                  Ricordi, and the conductor Faccio, broached the subject with 
                  the great man. Boito’s name was mentioned as librettist. The 
                  next day Boito was brought to see Verdi and three days later 
                  he returned with a detailed scenario; quick work unless there 
                  had been prior manoeuvring!  
                   
                  Verdi encouraged Boito to convert his synopsis into verse with 
                  the words: it will always be good for you, for me, or for 
                  someone else; he would not commit himself to compose the 
                  work. Verdi was to prevaricate on The chocolate theme, 
                  as it was called, for some time. However, when the composer 
                  indicated that he was ready to revise Simon Boccanegra 
                  he enlisted Boito as librettist. The composer and his new librettist 
                  got on well and the foundations were laid that brought Otello 
                  to magnificent fruition at La Scala on 5 February 1887. It was 
                  Verdi’s 27th opera and his first wholly new work 
                  for the stage for eighteen years. Verdi was then seventy-four 
                  years of age and really thought that he had finished with operatic 
                  composition.  
                   
                  Verdi’s conception of Otello involved greater, and significantly 
                  different, orchestral complexity compared to Aida (1871) 
                  and Don Carlos (1867) its immediate operatic predecessors. 
                  It marked a major compositional departure from his previous 
                  aria, duet and chorus scene to a more fluently smooth transition 
                  from one event to the next. In his conception, Verdi was greatly 
                  aided by Boito’s taut libretto. It reduced Shakespeare’s “Othello” 
                  by six-sevenths yet lost none of its essence. Still fully in 
                  place is the tale of destruction of the erstwhile hero by the 
                  genie of jealousy aided by Iago’s machinations. Boito dispensed 
                  with Shakespeare’s Venice act and focused the whole of the action 
                  in Cyprus.  
                   
                  The success of any performance of Otello depends on the 
                  singing of the name part. It is unequalled in the Verdi canon 
                  in the vocal demands it makes on the tenor protagonist. Placido 
                  Domingo has dominated the role on stage for a generation. Before 
                  him it was Jon Vickers long remembered for his assumptions at 
                  the Metropolitan Opera since 1967. He recorded the role under 
                  Serafin in 1960 with Tito Gobbi as a formidable Iago (RCA). 
                  They were a duo I was privileged to see in the theatre. Vickers’ 
                  interpretation was central to the 1970 Salzburg Festival production 
                  by Karajan, alongside Freni and Glossop. This made it onto film 
                  with the voices lip-synchronised. Filmed in Munich and at the 
                  Salzburg, Dürer Studios, in August 1973, it has appeared on 
                  CD 
                  and DVD. 
                   
                   
                  If just lacking the free ringing top to his voice of the audio 
                  recording of 1960, Vickers’ interpretation at Salzburg had a 
                  greater dramatic and vocal intensity. This surely derived from 
                  his long association with the role including earlier performances 
                  in New York. It was then, just over ten years after the tenor’s 
                  Met debut in the role, five after his Salzburg filmed recording 
                  and in Vickers’ fifty-second year. It was also only a year after 
                  the Met had launched its groundbreaking PBS series of Live 
                  from the Met, bringing the drama of live opera to television 
                  viewers. Not unexpectedly, the technical qualities of this recording 
                  do not bear comparison with the brilliance of the current HD 
                  broadcasts to cinemas across the world. It is however adequate 
                  – certainly sufficient to appreciate the glory of Zeffirelli’s 
                  staging which had been first seen in 1972. More importantly, 
                  it catches the singing of one of the greatest interpreters of 
                  the most demanding tenor role in the Italian operatic repertoire 
                  on a live stage rather than a film set.  
                   
                  The first question to answer is how does Vickers do in this 
                  his fifty-second year. He starts with a viscerally thrilling 
                  Esultate (CH.2). He is dominant as he sorts out the drunken 
                  goings-on between Cassio and Roderigo (CH.5). There’s superb 
                  expression in his singing in the love duet that concludes the 
                  act (CH. 7). By the time Otello’s jealousy has been aroused 
                  and Desdemona has riled him by pleading for Cassio, Vickers’ 
                  brief Ora e per sempre addio is frightening in its impact 
                  (CH.14). As Otello’s rage intensifies the sheer power of his 
                  calls for blood with the repeated Sangue, is fearsome 
                  in vocal power and acted realisation. One really feels that 
                  it would not be safe to meet this man at this moment (CH.17). 
                  He is able to continue this histrionic level throughout Act 
                  Three as Otello demands the handkerchief from Desdemona and 
                  as we learn of the arrival of the Ambassador. By Act Four his 
                  tone is a little dry, but he still manages a legato line and 
                  soft singing as he asks his wife if she has prayed before he 
                  strangles her (CH. 31). In Nium me tema and in his final 
                  act of stabbing himself his acting is first class and involving 
                  (CHs.32-33). Overall, Vickers’ assumption of the role of Otello 
                  is all encompassing in its reality and realisation. Every word, 
                  phrase and action is weighed and counted for individual and 
                  collective effect. Everything is delivered with seemingly natural 
                  expressive nuance.  
                   
                  In the circumstances of Vickers’ delivery of the title role, 
                  it would have been easy for the other principals to be overwhelmed. 
                  This is not so in the case of Scotto’s Desdemona. Her singing 
                  may not be as pure as that of Freni for the Karajan film but 
                  her performance comes near to matching Vickers in this her only 
                  series in the Zeffirelli staging. Her warm womanly tones and 
                  expression are welcome in the love duet (CH. 7), albeit her 
                  legato is not perfect. Her acting throughout creates a most 
                  moving and realistic foil to Otello’s overwhelming power. Her 
                  long-honed singing and stage skills are particularly evident 
                  in Act Four where her Willow Song (CH.28), on a wisp 
                  of breath in the reprise, is wonderful to hear as is the pathos 
                  conveyed in Desdemona’s farewell to Emilia. Scotto launches 
                  the Ave Maria (CH.29) with security as she caresses the 
                  bedspread, no altar-kneeling here as Otello enters, knife in 
                  hand.  
                   
                  Scotto’s realisation of her part is a match for Vickers. Regrettably, 
                  Cornell MacNeil is not. All in all his Iago is a bit of a dull 
                  dog. He manipulates the confrontations of Act One with something 
                  of the required cynicism but after his desiccated rendering 
                  of Iago’s Credo - that masterful addition to Shakespeare 
                  that is wholly by Boito - it is largely down-hill. Andrea Velis 
                  as Roderigo looks rather old as a suitor for even the wife of 
                  a no longer young Otello. Raymond Gibbs as Cassio is weakly 
                  sung and portrayed, not a criticism that can be levelled at 
                  the Emilia of Jean Kraft in her role’s few opportunities.  
                   
                  Levine’s evenly paced vibrant interpretation puts Karajan, with 
                  his variable tempi, to shame. The chorus of the Met sound suitably 
                  Italianate and commit themselves fully. The sound has a few 
                  moments of peak distortion and, as I have hinted, the picture 
                  is not a patch on today’s standards. That being said, it has 
                  come up remarkably well and with imaginative lighting there 
                  are few over-dark moments. For the rest we can appreciate the 
                  magnificent Zeffirelli set and Peter J. Hall’s sumptuous period 
                  costumes.  
                   
                  Robert J Farr 
                See review by Simon 
                  Thompson 
                   
                 
                            
                 
                
        
                 
                 
             
           | 
         
       
     
     |