Living in lower Chepstow is really pretty special. As well as having beautiful old houses, a museum, pubs and an eleventh century castle in my street, there is, just round the corner, The Drill Hall.
All sorts of events take place there, for all tastes and interests - most organised and run by local people. This Monday (29th April 2013) was a first for The Drill Hall and for me - "live" opera relayed from the Royal Opera House. This is exactly the same feed that is shown at major cinemas across the country, and a real treat to have available just a few minutes walk from home (especially if you fancy a glass or two of wine while enjoying the performance). Many thanks are due to Ned Heywood and others for making this possible.
Readers of this blog will know I already have a bit of a liking for opera - particularly Wagner, but I'm prepared to give Joe Green a bit of a go. So I was excited to see that the Drill Hall's inaugural opera screening would be Verdi's Nabucco.
I know my way round Wagner pretty well, but my Verdi knowledge is far more limited. My expectations were therefore built around somewhat vague primary school memories of the biblical story of Nebuchadnezzar (the writing is on the wall!), and Verdi's rather wonderful chorus of The Hebrew Slaves, "Va, Pensiero", which apparently became a sort of unofficial anthem for Italian independence in the 19th century. You can hear why; it's stirring stuff.
In many ways Nabucco turned out to be something of a surprise. I think it could be useful to split this review into three parts.
Opera relay at Chepstow Drill Hall
First things first. The Drill Hall was pretty full for this event. The screening and sound quality were excellent. Refreshments inexpensive (and, as mentioned previously, included some rather pleasant red wine) . All in all, a bit of a triumph for Ned and the team.
The Royal Opera production
There was a great deal to enjoy in the individual performances. The eponymous role was taken by opera legend Placido Domingo who, at 72, has dropped down from tenor to baritone. (I guess a bit like a centre forward moving to centre half later in his career).
I'm absolutely no expert on the technical details of singing, but Domingo's baritone sounded fine to me and, perhaps more impressively, his commitment to the drama of the part showed a master at work. Really some powerful acting, which is all too often rare in opera.
I must also mention the Royal Opera Chorus, who had plenty to contribute throughout this piece, and brought many of the most affecting moments to life.
Sadly, Daniele Abbado's production is a bit of a weak point. The Hebrew slaves suffer their oppression and threatened executions dressed in 1940s clothing.
On the face of it, the parallel with the holocaust is obvious, and not necessarily a bad one to draw. However, it somehow doesn't fit with the mood of the piece. Verdi's music is stirring, and really quite emotional in places, but it doesn't seem anywhere near dark enough for the holocaust comparison. In fact it's a bit martial and even comes across as jolly in places (to my ear). Like a marching band on a sunny day. It could be argued that Verdi has got that wrong (see below), but in any case, it sits really uncomfortably with holocaust imagery. A particularly unpleasant moment was where some of the Hebrew women were made to strip down to their 1940s undergarments in anticipation of (presumably) execution. I got the point, but it didn't seem like this was the right place to draw that comparison. The Biblical war, slavery and exile associated with the Assyrian sack of Jerusalem may well have been a horror of holocaust proportions - but Verdi simply doesn't go there with his music, and it seems almost exploitative for Abbado to drag us to that comparison in his stead.
Incidentally - it really doesn't help the clarity of the story that the Babylonian soldiers are the same chorus dressed in the same 1940s clothes - right down to wearing a kippah in some cases; so for all the world the guards also appeared to be Hebrew. Maybe Abbado is suggesting that in war all sides are equally to blame. Or something. In this context, it was just confusing.
It seems to be acceptable in opera to completely give the game away before the event. If you don't like spoilers, these Royal Opera House productions are not for you. Before each section the presenter gave a synopsis of the coming act, right up to and including any "surprise" dénouement. The half time interval also included a rather interesting and informative documentary on the Royal Opera Chorus - but this included some clips from the acts we had not yet seen. I found all this "spoiling" to be rather irritating, but maybe it's necessary - more on that in the final review section (Verdi's opera itself).
Verdi's "Nabucco"
The ROH presenter informed us that "Nabucco" was Verdi's "first masterpiece", written following two failed works and when Verdi was on the verge of giving up opera composition as a bad job. He pointed out the revolutionary use of the chorus (all singing the same thing, albeit in complex harmonies, but making the words very clear to the audience). This was apparently a significant break from the bel canto style, where the focus is on beautiful, complex singing, into something far more dramatic. Well - maybe there we have our starting point.
Some of Verdi's music in this piece is exceptional. I may have arguments about whether the mood is correct, but particularly the choruses and some of the ensemble pieces are hugely enjoyable. I notice that Verdi has written the plight of the Hebrews musically, not in terms of their oppression, slavery or peril, but instead as a powerful longing for their homeland. On that level, it's very different from the way a 20th or 21st century audience might see it - but it clearly struck a chord with the people of Italy at the time of it's original performances.
My problem is that music-drama (to use the Wagnerian term) or Dramma lirico, as this was billed, surely must also work as a drama. The overall story arc of Nabucco certainly has plenty of scope for such drama. Where this fails is that the libretto seems hopelessly disjointed and incomplete. It genuinely feels like one of those much-disputed Hollywood movies where the studio has snatched it out of the director's hands and cut out an hour (at random) to make it the right length, with no consideration as to whether it makes any sense.
I think we're seeing several things here.
Firstly, I'm used to Wagner's works, where the piece goes on for as long as it takes to cover all necessary exposition and explain each participants motivations and any changes of motivation. (In fact, many would say that Wagner's operas go on for much too long doing this kind of thing). I would also add that my previous encounters with Verdi's later work (eg. La Traviata, Aida) have not suffered from this problem, and their drama flows along in a manner that makes sense. Maybe I've been spoiled, and expect far too much drama from my operas. After all, the previously mentioned bel canto style was all about nice music and the story took very much a back seat. Verdi's original audience for Nabucco may well have loved the exceptional music, and been bowled over by what drama there is, with no expectation of being able to make much sense of the story itself.
Which brings me to the second thing. If opera audiences (apart from me) don't particularly expect to be able to follow the story just by watching the performance, maybe that explains why everybody seems happy with the presenter (or the published programme) telling exactly what is about to happen in each upcoming act. If you did this is in the cinema, or in the Radio Times, before almost any non-operatic drama, there would be uproar.
But moving on to the story/drama itself - where is Verdi going with this one? Or maybe I should be laying the blame at the door of the librettist, Temistocle Solera.
To avoid commiting the same error I've complained about elsewhere, you should note that the following contains spoilers.
The story concerns the Babylonian sack of Jerusalem, with Solomon's temple being destroyed and the Hebrews taken into slavery and exile. However, this is in some ways a backdrop in Nabucco to the conflict between the king himself and his daughters. The youngest daughter Fenena has taken up with the Hebrews, while his eldest daughter Abigaille seeks to take the throne of Babylon for herself. As the conflict with the daughters heats up, and Nabucco himself descends into madness (following some divine retribution from the god of the Jews), there are very powerful echoes of King Lear, and it's none the worse for that. In this particular production, these scenes are absolutely electric between Monastyrska's Abigaille and Domingo's Nabucco.
So far so good. There's a lot of to-ing and fro-ing early on with the Hebrews apparently holding Fenena hostage, then Fenena defending them from her sister and her Father. At the end of the second act (I know because the presenter told me so) Nabucco is struck down by God for claiming to be a god himself. This is when his descent into madness starts. To be fair, apart from being a bit unsteady on his feet, there wasn't a lot of evidence of madness.
We then have a mystifying development where Abigialle appears waving a piece of paper which proves that she's the daughter of slaves and not Nabucco's daughter at all. As far as I could tell, there was no explanation of how Nabucco came to believe that she was his eldest daughter. She has also usurped the throne at this point, I think. It's not that easy to tell. Later, in order to save Fenena from being executed, Nabucco prays to the god of the Jews, and his madness is cured. We know this because he keeps telling us his mind is clear now. Suddenly, with no clear explanation, he's back in charge of Babylon, and has decided to be nice to the Hebrews (in some non-specific manner). Out of the blue, Abigaille appears, all sad and repentant. How we got from Nabucco's conversion/cure to Abigaille's current state, we are never told. In fact Abigaille is so repentant that she has poisoned herself and is dying. I know this because the presenter told me so. It's really not particularly clear. We get some brilliant singing from Abigaille and Nabucco as she dies, and then, just as her clogs pop and the curtain begins to fall, the Hebrew prophet chucks in an apparent throwaway remark that Nabucco, having changed sides, will now be king of kings. I kid you not. It actually sounds even less appropriate when it's sung - but here's the offending end of the entire libretto -
ABIGAIL
Let me not be damned!
She collapses and dies.
HEBREWS
She is dead!
ZACCARIA
to Nabucco
Servant of Jehovah,
you shall be king of kings.
If you or I handed that into our creative writing teacher, we'd be told in no uncertain terms to try again.
Don't get me wrong. There's a lot to enjoy about Nabucco. I've been listening to the music all week since Monday's show, and enjoying it immensely the more I hear. But it's not a great music drama, and it's certainly not an appropriate allegory for the 20th century Holocaust.
Some of Verdi's music in this piece is exceptional. I may have arguments about whether the mood is correct, but particularly the choruses and some of the ensemble pieces are hugely enjoyable. I notice that Verdi has written the plight of the Hebrews musically, not in terms of their oppression, slavery or peril, but instead as a powerful longing for their homeland. On that level, it's very different from the way a 20th or 21st century audience might see it - but it clearly struck a chord with the people of Italy at the time of it's original performances.
My problem is that music-drama (to use the Wagnerian term) or Dramma lirico, as this was billed, surely must also work as a drama. The overall story arc of Nabucco certainly has plenty of scope for such drama. Where this fails is that the libretto seems hopelessly disjointed and incomplete. It genuinely feels like one of those much-disputed Hollywood movies where the studio has snatched it out of the director's hands and cut out an hour (at random) to make it the right length, with no consideration as to whether it makes any sense.
I think we're seeing several things here.
Firstly, I'm used to Wagner's works, where the piece goes on for as long as it takes to cover all necessary exposition and explain each participants motivations and any changes of motivation. (In fact, many would say that Wagner's operas go on for much too long doing this kind of thing). I would also add that my previous encounters with Verdi's later work (eg. La Traviata, Aida) have not suffered from this problem, and their drama flows along in a manner that makes sense. Maybe I've been spoiled, and expect far too much drama from my operas. After all, the previously mentioned bel canto style was all about nice music and the story took very much a back seat. Verdi's original audience for Nabucco may well have loved the exceptional music, and been bowled over by what drama there is, with no expectation of being able to make much sense of the story itself.
Which brings me to the second thing. If opera audiences (apart from me) don't particularly expect to be able to follow the story just by watching the performance, maybe that explains why everybody seems happy with the presenter (or the published programme) telling exactly what is about to happen in each upcoming act. If you did this is in the cinema, or in the Radio Times, before almost any non-operatic drama, there would be uproar.
But moving on to the story/drama itself - where is Verdi going with this one? Or maybe I should be laying the blame at the door of the librettist, Temistocle Solera.
To avoid commiting the same error I've complained about elsewhere, you should note that the following contains spoilers.
The story concerns the Babylonian sack of Jerusalem, with Solomon's temple being destroyed and the Hebrews taken into slavery and exile. However, this is in some ways a backdrop in Nabucco to the conflict between the king himself and his daughters. The youngest daughter Fenena has taken up with the Hebrews, while his eldest daughter Abigaille seeks to take the throne of Babylon for herself. As the conflict with the daughters heats up, and Nabucco himself descends into madness (following some divine retribution from the god of the Jews), there are very powerful echoes of King Lear, and it's none the worse for that. In this particular production, these scenes are absolutely electric between Monastyrska's Abigaille and Domingo's Nabucco.
So far so good. There's a lot of to-ing and fro-ing early on with the Hebrews apparently holding Fenena hostage, then Fenena defending them from her sister and her Father. At the end of the second act (I know because the presenter told me so) Nabucco is struck down by God for claiming to be a god himself. This is when his descent into madness starts. To be fair, apart from being a bit unsteady on his feet, there wasn't a lot of evidence of madness.
We then have a mystifying development where Abigialle appears waving a piece of paper which proves that she's the daughter of slaves and not Nabucco's daughter at all. As far as I could tell, there was no explanation of how Nabucco came to believe that she was his eldest daughter. She has also usurped the throne at this point, I think. It's not that easy to tell. Later, in order to save Fenena from being executed, Nabucco prays to the god of the Jews, and his madness is cured. We know this because he keeps telling us his mind is clear now. Suddenly, with no clear explanation, he's back in charge of Babylon, and has decided to be nice to the Hebrews (in some non-specific manner). Out of the blue, Abigaille appears, all sad and repentant. How we got from Nabucco's conversion/cure to Abigaille's current state, we are never told. In fact Abigaille is so repentant that she has poisoned herself and is dying. I know this because the presenter told me so. It's really not particularly clear. We get some brilliant singing from Abigaille and Nabucco as she dies, and then, just as her clogs pop and the curtain begins to fall, the Hebrew prophet chucks in an apparent throwaway remark that Nabucco, having changed sides, will now be king of kings. I kid you not. It actually sounds even less appropriate when it's sung - but here's the offending end of the entire libretto -
ABIGAIL
Let me not be damned!
She collapses and dies.
HEBREWS
She is dead!
ZACCARIA
to Nabucco
Servant of Jehovah,
you shall be king of kings.
If you or I handed that into our creative writing teacher, we'd be told in no uncertain terms to try again.
Don't get me wrong. There's a lot to enjoy about Nabucco. I've been listening to the music all week since Monday's show, and enjoying it immensely the more I hear. But it's not a great music drama, and it's certainly not an appropriate allegory for the 20th century Holocaust.
