Simon Boccanegra, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, June 2011

At the end of this opera, Boccanegra is finally reconciled with his arch-enemy Jacopo Fiesco, and blesses the marriage of his long lost daughter Amelia with the young Gabriele Adorno, a previously sworn enemy. Now, dying of a slow poison, administered by his right hand man Paolo, he asks Fiesco to make Adorno his successor as Doge of Genoa.

The Prologue with Fiesco in the foreground, all photos Mike Hoban

Powerful stuff, and Verdi was a master of expressing father-daughter relationships, but in this production, Amelia who has been — quite rightly — adoring and protective of her father, is suddenly shown to be unable to embrace him as he asks her to when he’s dying. Instead of the opera ending with his peaceful death on stage, he wanders off-stage in a strange paper hat, and she suddenly rushes after him, returning in anguish. As the music quietly ceases we see her having a fit. Why? What’s the point? Cruelty may be in vogue at the moment but there is quite enough in this opera without needing to add more and upset Verdi’s beautiful ending.

The Council Chamber, Boccanegra centre facing

The music has sublime moments, and powerful moments, and was superbly conducted by Edward Gardner. The chorus sang strongly, as did the main performers, and Brindley Sherratt was extremely powerful and entirely convincing, as Fiesco. Rena Harms gave a vivid portrayal of Amelia, Peter Auty came over very strongly as Adorno, and Bruno Caproni showed increasing gravitas as Boccanegra, though his voice was somewhat occluded when he turned away from the audience on several occasions. As Paolo, Boccanegra’s right hand man and later his nastiest enemy, Roland Wood sang very well, and Mark Richardson gave a sinister impression of Paolo’s henchman Pietro.

Adorno and Amelia

The production by Dmitri Tcherniakov, who also designed the sets, contained some imaginative ideas, particularly the flashbacks as the old set for the Prologue reappears by a clever trick of Gleb Filshtinsky’s lighting. I also liked the pedagogical narrative, explaining the story during scene changes. That helps make things clear, particularly for those who may be unfamiliar with the opera, but the costumes made things less clear. Apart from Adorno in his motorcycle gear, most of the men in the ruling oligarchy wore grey suits, making it difficult to distinguish different characters — for example, Boccanegra and Paolo looked remarkably similar. At least Fiesco wore a dark suit, but the uncompromising greyness was a bit much. The Council scene was set in what looked rather like a cheap lecture room with very cheap chairs, perhaps to reflect the tiresomeness of government compared to the colours in the Prologue, which takes place 25 years earlier, as reflected in the late 1950s / early 1960s car and costumes.

At the final curtain calls there were several boos for the production team and I wonder whether this might be due to the strange ending when Amelia refuses to embrace her father? The only explanation I can think of is that Amelia is annoyed with him since she’s only just found her maternal grandfather, but what was in the director’s mind I don’t know, and I can’t see the point. Better to let the music speak over the dead body of Boccanegra, as Verdi intended.

Performances continue until July 9 — for more details click here.

Simon Boccanegra, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, June 2010

Verdi was brilliant at expressing father-daughter relationships, as this opera makes abundantly clear. Before it starts, Simon Boccanegra has seduced a young noblewoman, and taken their illegitimate daughter away to be cared for, earning him the undying hatred of the young woman’s father, the powerful Jacopo Fiesco. Placido Domingo as Boccanegra, and Feruccio Furlanetto as Fiesco, formed a powerfully opposing duo, whose meetings in the Prologue and again at the end of the opera remain etched in my memory.

Domingo and Poplavskaya in the recognition scene

Boccanegra returns to Genoa after years of piracy to be elected Doge, only to find that his previous lover, Maria the daughter of Fiesco, has died. Boccanegra has tragically lost track of their daughter, unaware that she was later adopted under the name of Amelia Grimaldi. A quarter of a century later, the recognition scene between the two, with Marina Poplavskaya as Amelia, was simply superb. Her voice showed plaintiveness and purity, yet firm resolve, and their singing and body language melded beautifully together. The acting of Domingo, Furlanetto and Poplavskaya was simply wonderful — I cannot imagine better. Add to that the singing of Joseph Calleja as Amelia’s beloved Gabriele Adorno, and this was a terrific cast — Calleja sang like a god.

Amelia’s other passionate admirer, Paolo, is Boccanegra’s chief of staff, a man instrumental in making him Doge. This part was sung by Jonathan Summers who played the same role in some of the original 1991 performances of this production by Elijah Moshinsky. The production is excellent, with large sets by Michael Yeargan that use the stage to create wide open spaces, and I loved the addition of an old navigational instrument in Boccanegra’s quarters in Act II. Costumes by Peter J. Hall are wonderful, and Moshinsky obviously returned to direct this revival — the first since 2004 — appearing on stage with the cast at the end.

Adorno wrongly accuses Boccanegra of abducting his beloved, while the real culprit Paolo stands on the right

The Council chamber scene was memorable, and musical direction by Antonio Pappano was gentle, sensitive, yet immensely powerful when necessary. As Boccanegra calls on Paolo to find out who is guilty of Amelia’s recent abduction, the five trombones played like thunder.

Boccanegra dies, supported by Amelia and Adorno, with Fiesco in the background

When I compare this production and performance to the opening night of the new, rather cold, production of Manon a week ago, I am thankful for the warmth and sincerity of this marvellous experience. It’s a sell-out, but if you can get hold of tickets, don’t hesitate. At the end the entire main floor gave it a standing ovation.

Simon Boccanegra, Metropolitan Opera live relay, February 2010

In the Council chamber scene, during the second part of Act I, the Doge pleads for peace with Genoa, while the Senate calls for war. Suddenly fighting is heard outside, but Boccanegra, as Doge, commands the doors be opened and the people allowed in. This confident act shows Boccanegra to be a leader, a man we can trust. What a change this is from some of the weak leaders we have in Europe today. Boccanegra is a strong and noble character, torn down by enemies who resent his use of power, yet willing to support his long lost daughter in her desire to marry one of them.

Placido Domingo played him superbly, singing this baritone role with excellent lyrical expression. It is a remarkable transformation for this great tenor, particularly in such an exhausting role. His nemesis, Jacopo Fiesco was strongly sung by James Morris, and their interactions, in the Prologue at the beginning and again in Act III at the end, were masterpieces of musical staging.

Before the start of the Prologue, Boccanegra has seduced Fiesco’s daughter, Maria, who then gave birth to a daughter of her own, also named Maria. The mother is now dead, and in Act I, twenty-five years later, neither man yet realises that the daughter is now Amelia Grimaldi, beautifully portrayed by Adrianne Pieczonka. It’s a difficult part that opens Act I with an aria alone on stage, immediately followed by a love duet with Gabriele Adorno, powerfully sung by Marcello Giordani, whom she warns about his political intrigues. Then after an important scene when Fiesco tells Adorno that his beloved is an adopted orphan, she meets Boccanegra, finding out that he is her real father. This recognition scene was marvellously done, and I only wish I had seen it on stage rather than the cinema screen, where we have to look at one or the other when they are not close enough for the camera.

I shall not go through the whole opera, except to say it is a good idea to have some clue about the plot before it starts. Fiesco originally refuses to forgive Boccanegra, demanding that he yield to him the baby daughter, but this is impossible as the girl was taken away at birth to be brought up near the sea, where Boccanegra, at that time a pirate, could visit her. He lost contact with her when her nurse died, and in the Prologue is acclaimed Doge of Venice. Only at the end of the opera can he return the young woman, his daughter, now called Amelia, to her grandfather. In the meantime, his chief of staff, Paolo, menacingly portrayed by Stephen Gaertner (incorrectly stated on the cast list as Nicola Alaimo), has put a slow poison in his drink. Lest the poison not serve its purpose, Paolo also tries persuading Fiesco to stab him to death, and when Fiesco refuses he convinces Adorno to do the deed. In the end Paolo is tortured and executed, and though Boccanegra makes peace with both Adorno and Fiesco, nothing can prevent the poison doing its work. One rather macabre aspect of this production was the late scene between father and daughter when she helps him to drink from the poisoned cup. I could have done without this, but otherwise the production by Giancarlo del Monaco, with glorious sets and costume designs by Michael Scott was simply terrific. Filming by Barbara Willis Sweete showed everything very clearly with excellent close-ups and fine perspectives on the whole scene.

Conducting by James Levine gave a great sense of drama to Verdi’s music, and it will be interesting to compare his excellent direction with that of Antonio Pappano at Covent Garden this summer. For those forthcoming performances we have Domingo again in the title role, with Ferruccio Furlanetto as Fiesco, Marina Poplavskaya as Maria/Amelia, and Joseph Calleja as Adorno.