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