It’s the early fourteenth century. In a council chamber divided between the Plebeians and the Patricians, two noisy factions in the Italian port of Genoa, Simon Boccanegra, the Doge (Duke) is presiding.
There’s enough bother in his city already, so he urges those present to vote for peace with the rival port of Venice. He does this by reading a letter calling for an end to the conflict from the famous Italian poet and scholar Francesco Petrarch, who was well-known for his love sonnets and who does not appear in this opera. The council rejects the Doge’s opinions with a resounding No!
At this point there are noises from a crowd outside the building. It is calling for the Doge’s death: “Morte al Doge!”. Perhaps unwisely, he orders the doors to be opened and the mob storms in. Amongst them is a large man called Gabriele with a knife in his hand, who sings that he has killed Lorenzo, the man who kidnapped his love interest Amelia, who is the long-lost daughter of the Doge, but he doesn’t know that yet. He thinks the Doge was something to do with the abduction and is about to stab him too, but Amelia comes between and makes her own call for peace.
That is a small section of the complex plot of Simon Boccanegra, directed here by, P.J. Harris, which is packed with the operatic tropes of the late nineteenth century and which brings Shakespeare to mind to some extent: Perdita is a king’s daughter in The Winter’s Tale, and the principal character is very loosely based on a real-life ruler from a previous century. The composer Verdi’s hero was Shakespeare, who
was not too worried about historical accuracy.
The opera was definitely political when it was first performed, and Petrarch’s plea ‘I’m crying out for Peace’ would have resonated at a time when liberal progressives like Verdi were deploring the divisive nature of politics in a fragmented Italy and campaigning for a unified nation. I am sure modern echoes could be found. Think of the crowd’s invasion of the council chamber.
This took place towards the end of Act One, shortly before the interval in St George’s Hall, Bradford, because it is part of Opera North’s contribution to Bradford 2025 City of Culture before it goes on tour, ending up at London’s Southbank.
I was there for the first night. A little improbably, it worked well as a concert performance on a stage much less spacious than the one which the company has used in the past at Leeds Town Hall. Over the proscenium arch were Petrarch’s actual words,’ I’ vo gridando Pace, Pace, Pace’. On each side hung two flags, a red and yellow one on the left for the Plebeians and a blue and purple one on the right for the Patricians. Most of the characters wore rosettes in these colours all the time, with the Plebeians appearing almost as if they were campaigning for Labour in the present day.
The orchestra took up most of the stage and at its front was a narrow strip for the action, with a netted area on one side containing what could be a bed. Opera North’s superb Chorus performed from above on each side, using the upstairs audience areas, and swept in from the back of the hall.
Verdi’s tempest of music brought the scene alive, the string section producing a series of staccato notes which were answered by a fortissimo brass section, the Chorus in furious mode approaching from offstage, to be silenced by a lone trumpet, and the Simon Boccanegra the Doge’s stentorian aria for the mob, ‘Plebe! Patrizi! Popolo!’ resounding until the scene ended with the Chorus beside itself with emotion
and all the instruments creating an atmosphere of chaos and confusion.
Conductor Antony Hermus received plenty of enthusiastic clapping at the end of the show with the other performers.
The performance, in Italian with English translations on screens, included a delicious feast of bass and baritone voices, all of them consistently impressive. Baritone Roland Wood as Simon Boccanegra displayed a great ability to use his massive voice to portray a range of emotions, from anger to love, with a strong sense of operatic melodrama, even including a few of the ‘sobbing’ effects which are usually connected with tenors like Andrés Presno, who played Gabriele Adorno. Presno sobbed really memorably, his voice filling the auditorium to wonderful effect, particularly with the aria ‘Cielo pietoso’ (‘Merciful Heaven’), and when in Act One he sang together with Simon’s rival, the Patrician Jacopo Fiesco, played by Vazgen Gazaryan, a bass with an ability to reach really low notes very convincingly.
Bass-baritone Mandla Mndebele as the treacherous Paolo Albiani had not only a powerful voice but also a kind of elegance in its delivery, and I am guessing he would be successful not only as a villain (the fate of most basses) but as a good leader or lover in some other opera.
Young Italian soprano Sara Cortolezzis was performing for the first time in the UK and she was terrific as the long-lost Amelia, especially when coupled with her lover Gabriele, her voice not dominantly powerful, but full of subtlety. She provided welcome nuances of interpretation.
Although the audience was substantial for the first night, I was struck by the number of empty seats scattered around. Perhaps this was owing to the fact that it was a Thursday. Hopefully, there will be a full house at the weekend for this exciting production.
Photography by James Glossop.
Opera North’s Simon Boccanegra by Giuseppe Verdi
Conductor Antony Hermus, Director PJ Harris, Designer Anna Reid, Lighting Designer Richard Moore
NEW CONCERT STAGING – Spring 2025
Opening performance: St. George’s Hall, Bradford, 24 April 2025
Main image: Andrés Presno as Gabriele Adorno and Sara Cortolezzis as Amelia Grimaldi
