It is true: Nabucco is far from Verdi’s most original creation. The dramatical structure is crumbly at best, and it is clear that on the one hand Verdi makes grateful use of Rossini’s example, on the other hand he desperately tries to wriggle from under it. He barely succeeds to do the latter; the former yields beautiful samples. The surprising harmonic turns – absolutely daring for the 1840’s – are refreshing. And we see a composer who realises that the orchestra is much more than a piece of acoustic décor. Proof of which is his hunch of starting the sinfonia with a chorale melody in the trombone quartet (with a double bass trombone – not the plump sound of a tuba; thanks, Met!). Or Zaccaria’s prayer supported by nothing but the noble sound of the full cello section (Guillaume Tell is looking over his shoulder: you should indeed learn from the best!). The Met’s first class orchestra, conducted by Daniele Gallegari (not his most inspired performance, but certainly a very effective one), makes everything run reassuringly smoothly.
Nabucco is very much a choral opera. Cecil B. DeMille like mass scenes are the leading thread through this biblical story – something the Met is very well up to. The first scene let us suspect that was to be the stake. And so it turned out to be: as could be expected, the whole drama lead to the schlager many are waiting for. That’s OK; the chorus did a fine job.
But, of course, there is more than that. Even in an essentially static piece like Nabucco, one expects a minimum in character building for the main singers.
A huge disappointment, that’s what it was. I was under the impression that the Met had shed for some time its old skin of worn out cardboard box productions. Why, in Yahweh’s name, this hopelessly stuffy Elijah Moshinsky dragon? It must go back to God knows when. Simply a sign of weakness. And had the main characters been intelligently put on stage, well, one could try to forget that huge anachronism. It’s just that the one thing forbade the other, which brings us to the cast. Liudmyla Monastyrska is your most typical Italian dramatic soprano, which makes her absolutely suitable to sing the forbidding part of Abigaille. A task she took on with the right balance between stamina and lyricism. But, for God’s sake, don’t let her run up and down a steep staircase, in a dress she has to mind the whole time. Talking of ideal circumstances to immerse yourself in the lyrics! I don’t know who was in charge of the renewal of this production, but I do know that character building was nowhere to be seen: cardboard figures on a stage. The contrast with the announcement of the new Carmen was painful to say the least…
About the rest of the cast. Nice work in the vocally rather underscored parts of Fenena and Ismaele. Maria Barakova has a splendidly slender mezzo soprano voice, and she does what she can to bring some relief in the part, but maestro Verdi didn’t coddle her. Ismaele is somewhat better served, but tenor SeokJong Baek as well has to put up with what he got; he does so honourably. George Gagnidze’s Nabucco gets an edgy performance. Not my favourite type of baritone voice – a bit meagre to my taste – but he does a fair job. Let’s not talk about Dmitry Belosselskiy’s Zaccaria.
The +/- balance of this production turns around the treatment of the singers. The fact, however, is that everything has been focused on gaudy sets, and the singers have been abandoned, notwithstanding the fact that there is ample dramatic material in words and music to make up some plausible confrontations. This production team grossly failed to do so. Please, chuck this old junk, and give us a new Nabucco. Verdi deserves as much.