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Verdi suffered a failure with Boccanegra at its Venice premiere in 1857 and revised it at the suggestion of his publisher, Ricordi. At first ambivalent about the idea, he perhaps used it to test the idea of working with Arrigo Boito, who went on to provide the libretti for Otello and Falstaff. The successful 1881 version is what we usually see and hear in performance, but occasionally the original work rears its head, as here under Opera Rara’s ever-adventurous ministrations.

Eri Nakamura as Amelia in Verdi's Simon Boccanegra | Photo Credit: David Hughes

Talking before the concert, musicologist Roger Parker placed Simon Boccanegra against the preceding trio of hits, culminating in Traviata, followed by experimentation of Les vêpressiciliennes, Boccanegra and Un ballo in maschera. ‘It was a time of radical development and Boccanegra is his most extreme experiment’, to which conductor Mark Elder added ‘this opera does not obey the rules, for instance there is no aria or scene for Boccanegra himself. There is a strange sense of pace, drama and colour – very dark.’ And listening to him lead the excellent Hallé Orchestra through the score that sense of chiaroscuro was very developed, with flashes of brilliance and sunshine against the score’s generally sombre palette. Experiencing Verdi’s original thoughts is at times disquieting. The basic structure is more or less the same but for one major change; the Council Chamber scene that ends 1881’s Act I is missing, and the 1857 finale, (Act II in that version), is more of a piece with the rest of the original opera in its magnificent concertante build-up. The smaller changes are numerous throughout the opera. If you know Simon Boccanegra it almost feels as though it keeps going wrong, taking unexpected paths. Often numbers start as we know them from 1881, but suddenly develop in different directions or have missing or additional parts. It certainly keeps you alert.

Germán Enrique Alcántara as Simon Boccanegra in Verdi's Simon Boccanegra | Photo Credit: David Hughes

The performance was solid. Germán Enrique Alcántra took the title role with a rich high baritone, full of colours and with vocal and physical acting skills to bring the character to life: dropping his handkerchief as he expired was a simple but effective touch even on the concert stage. William Thomas as his nemesis, Fiesco, displayed a glorious and even bass, though perhaps a slightly stolid presence. Eri Nakamura as Amelia was slightly over parted, her silvery soprano sometimes pushed to its limits. But her coloratura was on point, reminiscent of that written for Jenny Lind in I Masnadieri: it is not surprising that Verdi removed Amelia’s cabaletta. Iván Ayón-Rivas brought tenorial thrills to Gabriele Adorno, with some impressively long phrasing. The Chorus of Opera North was excellent, though I would perhaps not have had them front stage in such a reverberant acoustic as Bridgewater Hall.