[Met Performance] CID:152040



Simon Boccanegra
Metropolitan Opera House, Mon, November 28, 1949




Simon Boccanegra (21)
Giuseppe Verdi | Francesco Maria Piave/Arrigo Boito
Simon Boccanegra
Leonard Warren

Amelia
Astrid Varnay

Gabriele Adorno
Richard Tucker

Jacopo Fiesco
Mihály Székely

Paolo Albiani
Giuseppe Valdengo

Pietro
Lorenzo Alvary

Maid
Thelma Altman

Captain
Paul Franke


Conductor
Fritz Stiedry


Director
Désiré Defrère

Set Designer
Camillo Parravicini





Simon Boccanegra received seven performances this season.
The costumes for Warren, Varnay and Valdengo were designed by Antoine Oberding.

Review 1:

Review of Cecil Smith in Musical America

A revival worthy of the great traditions of the Metropolitan Opera restored Verdi's "Simon Boccanegra" to the repertoire on Nov. 28, with Leonard Warren in the title role and Astrid Varnay as Maria, in her first Italian role at the Metropolitan. Fritz Stiedry conducted the opera with profound comprehension of its musical subtleties; and the unusually strong cast included Mihaly Szekely as Jacopo Fiesco; Giuseppe Valdengo as Paolo Albiani; Lorenzo Alvary as Pietro; Richard Tucker as Gabriele Adorno; and, in lesser roles, Paul Franke and Thelma Altman

"Simon Boccanegra" had not been heard in New York since 1939, when it was revived for Lawrence Tibbett, who had sung the title role in the first American performance of the opera, on Jan. 28, 1932. In the 1939 revival, on Jan. 13, Mr. Warren appeared as Paolo, his first role at the Metropolitan Opera. He had won the Metropolitan Auditions of the Air, and had made his debut as a member of the company at a Sunday night concert a few weeks previously.

Verdi thought highly of "Simon Boccanegra," which failed at its premiere in Venice, in 1857, although it won success at other opera houses soon afterwards. Twenty-four years later, he persuaded Arrigo Boito to touch up Piave's libretto, and he thoroughly revised the score for a revival at La Scala in Milan, on March 24, 1881. This revised version is one of his noblest and psychologically most penetrating works. Produced at the peak of his creative powers, when he was already at work on "Otello," it reflects the wisdom and compassion of his mature years.

It cannot be denied that "Simon Boccanegra" is flawed and uneven. The awkwardness of the libretto is still apparent, the joinery between the music of 1857 and that of 1881 is sometimes glaringly obvious; and the opera lacks the relentless dramatic concentration of works like "Aida" and "Otello." Yet when all is said and done, "Simon Boccanegra" remains a towering achievement, which should not be spared from the repertoire. Simon stands - with Hans Sachs, King Marke, and Arkel -- as one of the few venerable and intellectually admirable characters in the operatic world. His death scene is comparable to that of Boris Godounoff in its richness of dramatic overtones.

In recent years, Mr. Warren has added greatly to his stature as an actor, and this improvement has made itself felt in the refinement and emotional power of his singing. His Simon Boccanegra, like his Rigoletto and his Falstaff, is a distinguished characterization. He was tentative in the prologue, failing to suggest the savage strength and impulsiveness of the corsair who had swept the African pirates off the seas and persuaded the daughter of Fiesco to give herself to him. But in Act I, Scene 1, when Simon recognizes his own daughter; in the magnificent finale of Act I, Scene 2, when the Doge bursts out, "Plebe ! Patrizi ! Popolo dalla ferocestoria!" pleading for reconciliation; and in the death scene at the end, Mr. Warren sang and acted very movingly. Such details as the beautiful pianissimo phrase, on the word, "figlia," an F held for two measures and then dropping an octave, in Act I, Scene 1, as Simon gazes after Maria as she disappears into the castle, were exquisitely treated. Mr. Warren's voice did not have the full measure of its usual splendor at this performance, but the very fact that he was so careful added to the nuance of his singing.

Now that Astrid Varnay has sung her first Italian role at the Metropolitan so sumptuously, we can have high hopes of hearing the dramatic Verdi parts in the grand manner again, as they used to be done. Miss Varnay is one of the most intelligent actresses in the company, and she made the most of her opportunities. Commentators have complained that Maria, Gabriele, and the other characters in the opera are only stock figures, which pale beside Simon. Not so, when artists like Miss Varnay interpret them. Her Maria was a lovable and vital person in the action from her first appearance in the garden of the Grimaldi palace. She made the scene of recognition with her father excitingly realistic, and she solved brilliantly the difficult problem of Maria's sudden appearances to save her father in Act I, Scene 2, and Act II.

In her first aria, 'Come in quest' ora bruna,' Miss Varnay was nervous, producing some strident and unsteady top tones. But as the act progressed she sang with superb assurance and range of color. She could produce a ringing, heroic phrase one moment and spin a lovely pianissimo the next, in a way that reminded one of Rosa Ponselle. Only an artist of the first rank could have achieved so beautifully that terrifying phrase at the end of the gigantic ensemble in Act I, Scene 2, when everything pauses and Maria trills on a pianissimo F sharp, with a downward leap of an octave. Miss Varnay is superbly fitted for Italian dramatic-soprano roles. Let us hope that the Metropolitan management will not neglect its opportunities.

Richard Tucker's Gabriele Adorno is far and away the best thing he has done at the Metropolitan. It is an extremely difficult role both vocally and dramatically, designed for a heroic tenor and actor. As to the dramatic demands, one can point out that Mr. Tucker displayed great intelligence in what he did not attempt to do. He concentrated on the musical elements of the role, and he sang with stirring power, style and technical virtuosity. Any well-equipped tenor could get through the big solo arias of the opera creditably, if not with the brio that Mr. Tucker infused into them. But only a highly skilled singer could achieve the intensity and sense of co-ordination Mr. Tucker revealed in the duets and ensembles. In the exciting phrases sung with Maria in the reconciliation scene of Act I and in the ensemble just before the close of the opera, his voice had a new freedom and brilliance. If the passion of his singing was not always spontaneous, it was natural in style.

It was good to welcome back the distinguished Hungarian bass, Mihaly Szekely, absent last season from the Metropolitan. Mr. Szekely has one of the finest bass voices of the day, and he is a musician of the first rank. His Fiesco did not reveal the dramatic finish of his King Marke, or his Landgraf in "Tannhäuser," but it was superbly sung. Like all of the others, he was ill at ease in the prologue, as his performance of the aria, 'II lacerato spirito,' revealed. In the later ensembles, and especially in the scene with Simon at the end of the opera, Mr. Szekely came into his own.

Giuseppe Valdengo's Paolo was, naturally, the most Italianate characterization of the performance. He sang with an elan, a passionate vigor, and an instinctive sense of climax that seemed inborn rather than acquired. Especially gripping was his treatment of the brief scene with Fiesco in the last act, before Paolo is led off to be executed. He had the dignity of a man who is staring death in the face. Mr. Valdengo sang the great scene of the course in Act I, Scene 2 well, but he overacted it. Here as elsewhere, Desire Defrère's stage direction was trite and unimaginative. Lorenzo Alvary's Pietro was excellent.

To Fritz Stiedry must be attributed the major credit for the nobility of the performance. Always with his singers and considerate of their needs, he nevertheless kept the music moving. One rarely encounters such scrupulous observance of Verdi's dynamic markings. Far more important, however, was the psychological penetration with which he interpreted the score. In the fascinating duets, trios, and larger ensembles in which the opera abounds, Mr. Stiedry took pains that each character should be clearly differentiated in the web of voices and orchestra. One might have wished for fierier energy in a few passages, but the outburst of the populace in Act I, Scene 2, was thrillingly intense, and the tempos were always wisely chosen. Most moving of all was the final scene, in which he gave Verdi's music its rightful breadth and poignance. The hush that fell over the audience was a high tribute to the artistry of conductor and performers in this exacting finale, which represents the very antithesis of operatic blood and thunder.

Review 2:

Virgil Thomson in the Herald Tribune

Beauty, Expression, Authority

 

Absorbing, enchanting and sumptuous are the adjectives that come to mind in describing last night's spectacle at the Metropolitan Opera House.  "Simon Boccanegra” was its name. Giuseppe Verdi, its composer. Fritz Stiedry conducted. Leonard Warren sang the name part. Mihaly Szekely was in the cast, and so was Giuseppe Valdengo, So far, all the casting was of a piece for quality. Astrid Varnay and Richard Tucker, as the soprano-tenor young lovers, were distinguished, if a shade less beautiful vocally than the others, and only a shade. The visual production, moreover, largely the design and actual handiwork of Camilo Parravicini, was one of great richness both as to color and design. When the Met turns out a show like that, one wonders why anybody at all bothers with the other Broadway musicals at only a dollar less.

 

A certain freshness, it must be confessed, was your reporter's privilege with regard to the production. He had never heard, seen or read the musical work. He came to it cold, unitiate, unprepared. He left it equally unenlightened about the plot but thoroughly convinced of the opera's authenticity. Music so beautifully made, so abundant of melody, so full of character as instrumentation, so varied in dramatic accent, so continuous, so thoroughly convincing emotionally, whatever it may have been about, converted him without reserve to belief in its reality as expression. It made a composition, and it made sense. At no point did he suspect it of purely theatrical or purely musical effects. Beauty, grandeur, distinction and infinite variety were clearly its qualities.

 

So were they the qualities of its performance. Never before has Leonard Warren, always a handsome vocalist, seemed to your reporter so completely the servant of his role. Rarely has this critic heard in any opera house an ensemble that co-operated so thoroughly toward the projecting of a story. His ignorance of the story has never bothered him less. Few operas, familiar or unfamiliar, came to his mind as comparable for intensity of inspiration, for delicacy, emphasis, detailed variation, wholeness, carrying power without any insistence. In spite of an unfair condition (and any beholder's ignorance is certainly that), "Simon Boccanegra" came to your listener last night with thorough conviction as to its composer’s conviction and as to its own huge and real life as a humane work of art.

 

Responsible for this vigor and integrity were certainly the admirable cast named above and the impeccable collaboration of all stage contributors. But as guiding spirit of the production, as well as controlling hand of the musical ensemble, surely Fritz Stiedry, the conductor, must be the artist to whom our greatest thanks are due. Just second in gratitude one holds Leonard Warren, whose, glorious singing and commanding stage presence lifted the title role to a level of musico-dramatic expression rarely to be encountered these days. Both the work and its production are sumptuous. Don't miss it if you respect grand opera at all.



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