Simon Boccanegra

I saw this 2002 production mainly for Karita Mattila, and not only was she great in it but I liked the production a lot. I consider the 1978, 1984, 1991 and 1995 productions superior, however it is far better than the 1998 performance.

Simon Boccanegra is not among Verdi's best, some of the story to me is on the convoluted side, that said I love the counsel scene, the duet between Boccanegra and Fiesco and the sublime Orfanella in Tetto Umile. The music is conducted superbly by Claudio Abbado and the orchestra particularly in the counsel scene and Il Lacerato Spirito are equally impressive.

Visually, this Simon Boccanegra is also effective. The sets are simple, with a lot of blue, and the costumes are fitting and well-tailored. Picture quality and camera work are excellent, sound is clear. When it comes to staging, Il Lacerato Spirito is wonderfully done, but the counsel scene and the duet between Boccanegra and Fiesco were the highlights.

The performances are excellent. Karita Mattila is wonderful, I've always admired her and her performance here didn't change that. Carlo Guelfi is a powerful Boccanegra, very well acted and vocally assured, and Julian Konstantinov apart from an occasionally throaty sound is commanding as Fiesco especially in his duet with Guelfi. The character of Paolo is suitably repellent. For me the weak link was Vincenzo La Scola, in a sense Gabriele Adorno is to me the least interesting character of the opera but while La Scola sings very well he is rather stolid in the acting.

All in all, very good. 9/10 Bethany Cox

Mrs G was having a long weekend in Morocco so I settled down with a bottle of sangiovese to watch this 2002 production of Simon Boccanegra from the Teatro del Maggio Musicale in Florence. Unfortunately I finished the wine before I finished the opera and I fell asleep during the third act. However, I did have particularly mellifluous dreams so the following evening, fortified only by a cup of coffee, I watched the third act again.

But to begin at the beginning. Simon Boccanegra was a huge flop at its first production in Venice in 1857 and it was not until 1881, after Verdi called in that well-known 19th century script-doctor Arrigo Boito that a virtually rewritten Simon had some measure of success at La Scala. One problem is that the plot requires a greater knowledge of 14th century Italian politics than most people are willing to acquire. It reminds me of some of Shakespeare's later comedies, particularly Pericles, in the way Simon loses his infant daughter and finds her again 25 years later. Verdi and Boito worked magic with their two, late, Shakespearean masterpieces, Otello and Falstaff but, even with Boito's considerable skill as a librettist, there was no way that Verdi was going to shoehorn all the politics and plot of Simon into two hours or so of opera.

Another possible reason for Simon's relative lack of popularity is that there is only one female role. Fortunately, in this production, the excellent Karita Matilla plays Maria/Amelia. The conventional love interest is provided by the tenor Vincenzo La Scola as Gabriele. But this opera really is a showcase for bass and baritone. Andrea Concetti is very effective as Paolo, the nearest this opera gets to a conventional villain. He poisons Simon during Act II and, this being a special operatic poison, Simon manages to survive throughout Act III before expiring gracefully. I was glad that I watched this final act again because the highlight of the entire work is the baritone-bass duet between Carlo Guelfi's Simon and the Fiesco of Julian Konstantinov.

If you are a Verdian completist, it will be well worth your while viewing this excellent production from Florence. It uses simple but effective sets, usually a black or dark blue diorama and the scene and mood is effectively established by costume and lighting. It contains some achingly beautiful music, ably interpreted by conductor Claudio Abbado. I was struck by the restraint of the Florentine audience. Some of the barnstorming arias that would have brought the house down at La Scala are greeted by complete silence. Perhaps this restraint is a reflection of Abbado's performance. As the last strains die away we see an anguished Abbado with his hand raised forbidding applause until the silence becomes overwhelming.