Nationalism promoted to the level of worship. Political will approaching evangelical proportions. Geography becomes a sacred shrine.
Volatile attitudes. Age old tropes. None has served the cause of civilization to particularly ennobling effect. The notion of the hallowed homeland has been and continues to be a potent, if not inevitable, communal impulse throughout human history frequently circumscribed by war. All humanity dies and dies again in its name, flags flying, anthems uplifted.
Raising the curtain on a blunt, scenically unadorned Nabucco — a 2016 import from Lyric Opera of Chicago debut-directed by newly appointed Chief Artistic Administrator Matthew Ozawa — the Canadian Opera Company launches its 2024/25 season with a decidedly minimalist, hard-edged treatment of Giuseppe Verdi’s monumental testament to survival, musically formidable but largely unaffecting on an intimate dramatic plane.
Draped with romance, a classic love triangle overlying the roiling Biblical narrative of the Babylonian captivity, a calculated gesture by librettist Temistocle Solera, at Verdi’s insistence, to impart a sense of the personal and the relatable to what otherwise threatened to devolve into the equivalent of a dusty Old Testament tome, Nabucco takes repeated aim at the heart. Verdi’s lifelong commitment to conveying his profound aversion to tyranny and oppression in all states of being, wherever it occurs, is witnessed in both panoramic wide angle and extreme close up, the plight of an entire people reflected in the microcosmic persecution of a pair of star-crossed lovers — Ismaele, Jewish emissary to the mighty court of Nebuchadnezzar and the beautiful Fenena, a proud Assyrian princess.
That revival director Katherine M. Carter should minimize the detailed measured integrity of the love story so carefully plotted by its committed creators, focusing instead on the opera’s obvious mammoth theatrical architecture, is profoundly disappointing. The emotional conflagration that is the raging sum of Nabucco’s incendiary parts never quite sparks to full blaze.
Historical mythologizing verging on reinvention runs deep in this, Verdi’s consummate bel canto entree to the spectacular musical showplace glowingly occupied by Italian grand opera. Composed in 1842, at the age of 29, astonishingly only his third opera in what would come to be an imposing catalogue of some two dozen major works, Nabucco dazzles and stuns. For better or for worse, the work, sprawling and turbulent, has essentially fallen prey to its own hugely popular success, a magnet for loyalists and believers of all sorts, 19th century Southern Europeans in particular who, virtually ever since its explosive premiere at La Scala, perceived a craftily coded message hiding in plain sight beneath its impassioned story arc. The despised Habsburg and Bourbon autocrats, a grasping Papacy included, who ruled the fragmented Italian peninsula prior to its unification in 1861 were, like the Assyrians, fated by the Divine to suffer inevitable defeat. The enslaved and the imprisoned, the fearful and the anxious, all would be set free. Verdi’s reputation instantly assumed legendary status where it has remained ever since, the Bard of the Risorgimento who set the national dream of liberty to music and sent it into battle.
The truth, as it invariably tends to be, is, of course, infinitely more complicated.
There can be no doubt that Verdi was a patriot. To label him a dedicated revolutionary either by way of action or inclination, however, is highly questionable. A staunch Catholic. A devout anti-cleric. A man of deep abiding moral principles. A humanitarian above all else. Despite the sudden loss of his cherished wife, Margherita, and two young children, Icilio and Virginia, to encephalitis during the creative lead-up to Nabucco, devastated and reeling, the shattered maestro somehow found the courage to champion life in all its grandeur and tangled minutiae for the entirety of his unceasingly prolific 54-year opera career. Giuseppe Verdi, icon and mortal, forever continues to inspire, a model of strength and compassion.
Impassive and remote, the COC’s decidedly sterile Nabucco, currently on view at the Four Seasons Centre, with its abundance of inert tableau could well benefit from a soulful infusion of generous Verdian values.
Singing the title role, baritone Roland Wood pushes beyond the limited dramaturgy with heroic determination, expanding the psychological dimensions of his character with some notable success, nowhere more evident than in his Act III duet with dramatic soprano Mary Elizabeth Williams appearing as the treacherous Abigaille, adopted daughter of slaves, usurper of Nabucco’s throne. Oh di qual’ onta aggravasi (“Oh, what shame must my old head suffer”) laments the battered, once great king, evoking a strong Lear-like equivalency, Abigaille as cold and indifferent as a Goneril or Regan. Potent contributions from both artists, Williams having already carved out some considerable virtuoso territory of her own in Act II. Tenderly charting Abigaille’s touchingly lyrical plaint, Anch’io dischiuso un giorno (“My heart was also open long ago”), Verdi’s lovely bittersweet ode to lost happiness, the deft Philadelphia-based singer actor enchants. The colours in this voice, the breathless scope of Williams’ range, the sheer courage of her relentless attack are extraordinary.
Tenor Matthew Cairns sings an attractive Ismaele. Mezzo-soprano Rihab Chaieb is Fenena, her Oh dischiuso è il firmamento! (“I can see the heavens opening”) a gentle cavatina filled with grace and faith, delicate and ephemeral. Bass Simon Lim strikes any number of commanding vocal poses as Zaccaria, Jewish High Priest.
Fifty-two members of the Canadian Opera Company Chorus, superbly directed by Sandra Horst, fill the evening with intense, towering outpourings of mass emotion. Va’, pensiero (“Go lofty thoughts, as if flying on golden wings”) Verdi’s great exalted anthem to memory and regret is delivered with a note of unexpected gentleness, mezzo-piano, sadness and longing murmuring across the ages. Verdi’s second most venerated choral highlight from Nabucco, Immenso jehova (“Great Jehovah”) is delivered, a cappella, with equal skill.
The Canadian Opera Company Orchestra led by visiting conductor Paolo Carignani play with enormous animation and vibrancy, Maestro, much to the dismay of more than one listener centre house right, more than once seemingly tipping the balance of sound perilously close to strident. Final judgement reserved, however, given the scope of meticulous acoustic engineering throughout the FSC, a dynamic anomaly would seem unlikely.
Vast choruses. Soaring solos of ringing authority. A constant surge of infinitely varied music. This stern, stalwart, spectacular Nabucco ultimately feels incomplete.