OPERA The Italian Opera Company of Chicago

Simon Boccanegra is a difficult opera in many ways. It is neither easy to comprehend its drama nor to appreciate its music. Of course, all truly great art places a demand on its audience, but the investment of the time and effort required to understand a masterpiece is not beyond the resources of most people for them to reap the enriching dividends that are the beauty and the enlightenment yielded by a work of genius. In the case of Boccanegra, which is definitely not one of Verdi’s greatest operas, considerable effort indeed must be put forth to glean a measure of aesthetic satisfaction. It is not impossible to do so, for even the lesser works of a master of Verdi's stature possess many virtues, yet, for all but the most devoted Verdiani, coming to terms with Boccanegra can be an elusive goal at best.

For those who feel frustrated in the attempt to appreciate this opera, it may be of some consolation to know that Verdi himself agonized over Boccanegra for over two decades. Ironically, choosing the subject for an opera for the 1856-87 season at the Fenice in Venice came easily for Verdi. There is no evidence that he went through the prolonged soul searching before settling on a subject that was so characteristic of the composer at this point in his career. Nor is this very surprising given that Boccanegra was inspired by a play of Antonio Garcia Gutiérrez, whose El Trovador was the basis for one of Verdi's greatest triumphs, Il trovatore. Actually, there are many obvious similarities between Boccanegra and the earlier work, not the least of which is a rambling and complex plot that covers a time span of many years. This kind of plot is always a problem for a composer and a librettist, and there are not too many operas that have survived that are dramatically very complex. In Il trovatore, however, not only did Verdi and Cammarano manage to overcome the problem of complexity, but the composer seized upon its diverse dramatic elements to create a compact musical expression that is extraordinarily rich in melody and thematically unified throughout. Perhaps Verdi was wrong to assign the libretto of Boccanegra to Piave, with whom he had collaborated so successfully over the years on more traditional projects. Or perhaps Piave was given too much independence, since Verdi, being distracted at the time with legal wrangling over the unauthorized performances of his operas in England and France, was not able to oversee his librettist's progress at close quarters as he usually did. In any case, Verdi was so disappointed with Piave's work that without the poet's knowledge, the libretto was handed over to a political exile, one Giuseppe Montanelli, to rewrite a number of scenes.

When the opera was premiered on March 12, 1857 the result was, in Verdi's words, a "fiasco." After a few more unsuccessful productions here and there, Boccanegra seemed to be a dead issue. But Verdi retained a liking for the piece and after several refusals to address the work again, he finally agreed with Giulio Ricordi to revise it in 1880. This time the librettist was Arrigo Boito, who worked very closely with Verdi on the revision, anticipating their most important collaborative effort, Otello. Working deliberately and under very little pressure, Verdi and Boito established a rapport and mutual respect that served them well for years to come. On March 24, 1881 the revised Boccanegra was performed to universal acclaim at La Scala. But it is not all that clear whether its success was due to the revised sections of the opera, or that the performance marked the occasion of Verdi's first "new" work in Milan in thirty-six years, or that the production featured an all-star cast including Francesco Tamagno, Victor Maurel and Edouard de Reszke. The fact is that after the premiere, Boccanegra gradually faded in popularity. Today it may hold a place in the standard repertoire, but it is not performed as frequently as other Verdi operas, including a number of his earlier works.

What is the problem with Boccanegra? For one thing, despite the revisions this opera remains very complex dramatically. In this sense the work is true to the early Renaissance period in which the story takes place. When we think of the Italian Renaissance, we probably dwell on the incredible achievements in art, architecture, music, science and literature produced by some of the greatest geniuses that ever lived. But culture is always a double-edged sword that has both positive and negative aspects (just look at our own society). On the down side, it is hard to imagine a time in history where a nation was so politically fragmented or so morally corrupt as was Italy in this explosive and exuberant period. In the fourteenth through the seventeenth centuries Italy consisted of many incredibly prosperous city states that vied with each other for power within a system of bewilderingly complex relationships that shifted constantly from alliance to enmity like some grotesque kaleidoscope. Furthermore, the political culture of each city was a microcosm of the whole divided nation, for within Florence, Rome, Venice, Milan, Genoa and the rest there was an ongoing power struggle between the families, great and small. This resulted in the establishment of a tradition of treachery, duplicity, double dealing, murder for hire, fratricide, extortion, kidnapping, backstabbing, treason, sacrilege and all around mayhem that has never been seen before or since in a civilized society. Add to this eternal war of the families the conflict between followers of Pope and Emperor (the guelfi and ghibellini) and patricians versus plebeians and what you have is a chaotic political and social milieu that defies easy interpretation.

One of the original criticisms of Boccanegra was that it was too "dark" in mood. But how could a work set in this period that dealt with political intrigue be anything else? Let us digress briefly to see if we if we cannot bring the dark side of the Italian Renaissance into modern perspective. I have often been struck with the resemblance of the fictional Corleone family from The Godfather to many of those great families of the Renaissance. Like the Medici, Visconti, or Grimaldi, the Corleone family ruthlessly sought to consolidate and to aggrandize its position in society. Unlike those original "Renaissance men," Don Vito and Michael Corleone conducted their business as far from the public eye as possible. In fifteenth century Italy, however, the powerful families made no bones about committing the most outrageous atrocities, often in full public view, as long as what they did was for the benefit of their clans. Everyone then understood that it was "strictly business."

Actually the Sicilian Corleoni couldn't hold a candle to those Northern Italian families of yesteryear when it came to brutal lawlessness. Who can ever forget that chilling climactic episode in The Godfather when Michael Corleone had all his main rivals murdered at the very moment that he was making the baptismal vows for his godson in church? Pretty nasty, eh? But compare this to the infamous and real-life Pazzi Conspiracy. The Pazzi were the chief rivals in banking and political power to the Medici in late fifteenth-century Florence. They had clashed many times with the Medici on a number of fronts, but more often than not they failed to get the better of their arch-foes. Finally they decided to settle things for good by killing Lorenzo, il Magnifico, and his brother, Giuliano. Naturally, the Pazzi sought to assassinate the well-guarded Medici when they least suspected it and when they were most vulnerable. On April 26, 1478 they struck during Mass at the Duomo. The signal for the attack was the Consecration of the Host, and the two assassins assigned to kill Lorenzo were presiding priests loyal to the Pazzi! At the crucial moment, Giuliano was indeed slain, but Lorenzo managed to defend himself and the plot ultimately failed. Many of the Pazzi family were brutally tortured before their deaths. Another day at the office during the Italian Renaissance.

The historical Simone Boccanegra was a typical product of his age. The scion of a prominent genovese family, he was elected the first Doge of Genoa in 1339. He was deposed by the Grimaldi in 1344 and reinstated in 1356 with the help of the Visconti. In 1363 he was poisoned at a banquet and died painfully as his enemies looked on with pleasure. He was known as a conciliator who favored a united Italy (no wonder he was bumped off!). His brother, Egidio, was a famous admiral in the service of Castile. For his play Gutiérrez combined the two historical Boccanegras into one character, which at least afforded Verdi the motivation for some very beautiful "water music".

With the exception of a reference to Boccanegra's inclination for peace with Venice and his death by poison, the incidents in the story are purely fictional. This is not to say that the events depicted in the play and opera are not credible. On the contrary, the fact that we have a hard time keeping up with the identity and motivations of the characters indicates that this opera's plot, as representative of the Italian Renaissance, is more "realistic" than most. The question is, does this make for good opera, especially when the plot of a play, which can develop a story and its characters comprehensively, must be severely compressed to be successfully adapted? (I suppose that it all depends on who is doing the compressing and adapting, and this time, it wasn’t the brilliant Cammarano.) Compared to other Verdi operas, both the exposition and continuity of the plot as well as the dramatic characterization fall woefully short. The dramatic focus is so diffused that it is very hard to figure out what this opera is all about or where the dramatic climax occurs. Worse, many of the scenes have little emotional impact. On the one hand Verdi seemed to be trying to break away from the traditional operatic conventions (as he did in works that both preceded and followed Boccanegra), while on the other there are important episodes that are almost gratuitously traditional.

As an example of the opera's deficient dramaturgy, consider the character of Amelia (the only woman in the opera). Here is a character that we would expect to be a sure-fire winner for Verdi. She is the daughter of Boccanegra who is forced to choose between loyalty to him and her love for his proclaimed enemy, Gabriele. Equally promising dramatically, as the opera begins, she is believed to be lost and exists in Genoa under an assumed identity. In her first scene with Boccanegra, when both realize the true nature of their relationship, we are indeed treated to one of those patented Verdi father-daughter ensembles, where the passion and the music are firing on all cylinders. But this "recognition" scene is diminished in its impact because Amelia participates in two more recognition scenes, one with Gabriele, and one more with Fiesco. By this time we already know who she is, so where's the drama in this? As far as her divided loyalty goes, she staunchly takes the part of her father early on, so there is no real suspense as in the development of Gilda or Aida.

The other roles are dramatically and psychologically interesting, which is actually the best feature of this work, but good characters alone are not sufficient to ensure superior opera. There are many operas with weak and sometimes incomprehensible story lines, and undeveloped, one-dimensional characters, that are far better than Simon Boccanegra. Where Boccanegra fails to fully live up to its Verdian potential most obviously is in its lack of appealing music. It's not bad music -- on the page and in analysis it's very good music, perfectly in synch with the drama and the personalities of the characters and so on. It's just not the kind of melodically captivating music that one would expect from Verdi at the peak of his abilities. In fact this is the only opera I know of that does not feature even one extended solo lyrical passage for the title role. (I don't believe I have ever come across a single "highlights" recording containing any music from this opera.) The 1881 revision, the only version heard today, did nothing to address this issue, which is the main reason why it failed in the first place. In the end, Simon Boccanegra may be a decent and interesting piece of theater and therefore worth the price of admission, but it is certainly not a great Verdi opera.