This is the second
of Opera Rara’s issues of the original
versions of Verdi operas. These originated
as BBC broadcasts in the 1970s and were
produced under the aegis of their then
opera guru, Julian Budden, a Verdian
of repute and scholarship. Although
recorded in front of a live audience
the listener will only be aware of their
presence by applause after the end of
the Prologue and each Act. The recording
is more resonant than that on the first
of the series, Macbeth, (reviewed
by me elsewhere on this site) and
there is some ‘echo’ around the voices.
In my review of Macbeth,
I gave background and reasons for the
various revisions Verdi made to a number
of his original works. With some he
went as far as renaming the opera. I
further suggested that there was a Paris
connection with many of these re-workings.
In the case of Simon Boccanegra, the
only Paris connection was not musical
but Verdi’s presence in that city, first
for the production of ‘Les Vêpres
siciliennes’, and later for a lawsuit.
He accepted a commission from the ‘Teatro
la Fenice’ in Venice for the 1856-57
season, and decided on the subject of
the opera, based like ‘Il Trovatore’
on a play by Guttiérrez. It was
ideal 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, albeit that the
action was set in 14th century
Genoa, the censors gave Verdi and his
main librettist, Piave, considerable
grief. The composer held out and the
opera was premiered on 12th
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, had a worse
reception than the one in 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’
(Budden. ‘The Operas of Verdi’. Vol.
2 p. 253). 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.
However, it was not until after ‘Aida’
(premiered 1871) that his publisher,
Ricordi, and Boito, a consummate poet
and a composer in his own right, convinced
Verdi that the time was right to re-visit
Boccanegra. The revision was a triumph
at La Scala on 24th March
1881; it is in this later form that
we know the opera today. It is this
version that is featured on the recordings
referred to below. As to the ‘original’
Boccanegra, it is claimed in the accompanying
booklet that this performance was the
first time it had been heard for over
100 years! The pace of the Verdi revival
over the past 25 years or so, and the
centenary of the composer’s death, has
brought other performances. Whether
any will appear on record remains to
be seen. In the meantime this performance
can justifiably lead the field in quality
terms even if it is a ‘one horse’ race.
Most focus on the 1881
revision has been on the addition of
‘The Council Chamber Scene’, one of
high drama into which Verdi poured his
mature genius and which makes considerable
demands on the baritone singing the
eponymous role. There are two outstanding
recordings of the 1881 version, the
most modern, marvellously conducted
by Abbado (1977), features Cappuccilli
as Boccanegra in one of his best recorded
portrayals associated as it was with
staged performances at La Scala (DG).
The other has Tito Gobbi as the Doge
matched by the implacable Fiesco of
Christoff. Gobbi’s biting characterisation
is unsurpassed, but the 1958 mono recording
now sounds rather dated and Santini’s
conducting lacks the fire that is within
the score. However, the musical differences
between the original and the revision
are far greater than the addition of
the famous scene. They start with the
‘Prelude’. Whilst in the 1881 version
the quiet E major chords are evocative
of the sea and flowing tides, the entrance
of Paolo who demands, of Pietro, ‘Che
dicesti?’ (What did you say) comes after
only 1:20, whilst in this original version
we have a complete ‘Prelude’ which opens
with distinctly martial music before
evolving with motifs heard later in
the opera (CD 1 tr.1). Similarly the
Act I ‘dawn’ prelude of 1881, again
so evocative, is far superior to the
introduction to Amelia’s ‘Come in quest’ora’
(tr. 9) here, which simply flows from
a very different, and brief, introduction.
The 1881 re-workings did not end with
such simple examples however. The confrontation
of Boccanegra, now Doge, with Amelia,
ward of his enemy Fiesco, and the mutual
recognition of their relationship, was
significantly re-worked whilst having
obvious echoes of the original portrayed
here (CD 1 trs. 17-21). Such analysis
can be made throughout the work and
perhaps some space could have been found
in the booklet to highlight the more
important examples.
What is common between
the two versions of the opera is the
requirement for quality singing and,
if not matching the great interpretations
referred to, the solo contributions
here are never less than adequate. The
name part is taken by Sesto Bruscantini
(1919-2003), who debuted at La Scala
in 1949 and sang over 100 performances
in 17 operas before his final role there
as Don Pasquale in 1985. He is well
remembered in Britain for his work at
Glyndebourne. He is best known on record
for his portrayals in Mozart and buffo
roles where his considerable comic gifts
are well utilised. However, Bruscantini
had 130 roles in his repertoire including
heavier roles such as Scarpia (Puccini’s
Tosca) and he brings that immense experience
here as a musical and dramatically appropriate
Doge in his many moods; enemy, ruler,
father and magnanimous facilitator.
As Boccanegra’s later-reconciled (CD
2 tr. 16) enemy, Fiesco, Gwynne Howell
has a rare opportunity to shine on record
in a ‘primo’ rather than a ‘comprimario’
part. He does so with distinction, and
if not quite erasing the memories of
Ghiaurov (DG) or Christoff (EMI), sings
with true steady tone in the aria ‘Il
lacerato spirito’ (CD 1 tr.5) and in
reflecting the character’s uncertainty,
agony and pathos as Fiesco realises
that the poisoned and dying Boccanegra
is the father of Amelia and that she
is his grand-daughter (CD 2 tr. 15).
Amelia is the only female part in the
opera with its predominantly dark-toned
male voices reflecting the deeds of
the plot. The role requires a soprano
voice with body as well as variety and
intensity of expression, able to give
full weight and colour to the histrionic
demands. Victoria de los Angeles (EMI)
was appropriately voiced in Act I but
lacked some weight and colour for the
more dramatic moments, whilst Mirella
Freni (DG) with her fuller tone colour
across the range I find ideal, although
she is run close by Kiri Te Kanawa on
Solti’s otherwise undistinguished recording
(Decca). On this present recording I
found Josella Ligi a distinct disappointment.
Her tone is full and vibrant, as is
required for the dramatic parts, but
has raw patches and her lumpy phrasing
and lack of legato is a distinct drawback
in the more lyrical moments of Act I
(CD 1 trs. 9-11). As her somewhat impetuous
lover Gabrielle Adorno, André
Turp has moments of delicate phrasing
(CD 1 tr. 13) mixed with over-strain
at climaxes (tr. 25), but generally
gives an appropriately ardent and virile
interpretation. The important ‘comprimario’
part of Paolo is well taken by William
Elvin who sang many such roles at Covent
Garden in 1970s. The choir are strong,
well articulated and virile (Act I Finale.
CD 1 trs. 22-28) and, to my ears, are
distinctly more idiomatic than as ‘witches’
in Macbeth. Likewise I find Matheson
a more vital conductor here than on
the previous issue. If he doesn’t shape
the Verdian phrases like Abbado, that
is merely to compare the merely good
with the truly great and not a fair
comparison!
It is a pleasure to
have this original version of Simon
Boccanegra available on CD. I strongly
recommend it to all opera lovers, and
to Verdians in particular. It not only
allows the leisurely hearing of the
composer’s first thoughts, but will
also provide the enthusiast with the
opportunity for countless hours of pleasure
comparing it with the later and better-known
version, which was in reality a ‘dry
run’ for the great final masterpieces
of Otello and Falstaff. A big gap in
the catalogue filled at last and with
a good all-round performance.
Robert J Farr
BBC Singers 