Revisiting Verdi’s “Class Warfare” Opera

Early last week I was able to attend the first San Francisco Opera (SFO) performance of the season, which had been delayed due to a strike by the SFO Orchestra. The opera that was presented was Giuseppe Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra, and the headline for my account of that event was that it was “Bogged Down in Class Warfare.” This afternoon my wife and I returned to the War Memorial Opera House for a second encounter by virtue of our subscription tickets.

While my initial reaction had been on the negative side, I still felt that the production deserved a second encounter. The fact is that the narrative for the libretto is a highly convoluted one. To some extent, this is due to a setting in Genoa in the middle of the fourteenth century. Rather than dismiss the narrative as “class warfare,” it would probably be fairer to call it a study in class struggle.

As the SFO notes observe, authority in this time in Genoa was ruled by the patrician class. In contrast, the last name of the title character basically describes him as a buccaneer, which suggests that he lives by the rules that he makes for himself. As a result, he emerges as a hero of Genoa’s popular class; and, through their support, he achieves the office of doge through a “free and fair” election.

Amartuvshin Enkhbat singing the title role of Simon Boccanegra (photograph by Cory Weaver, courtesy of SFO)

Thus, the “backbone” of the opera involves “political conflict” between the plebeian Boccanegra (baritone Amartuvshin Enkhbat) and the patrician Jacopo Fiesco (bass-baritone Christian Van Horn). Both of these men confront Amelia Grimaldi (soprano Toni Marie Palmertree), raised by a patrician family but believing herself to be an orphan. This is the “triangle” that drives the opera’s narrative, making for one of the better examples of Verdi’s talent for character development.

Sadly, the production conceived by Claus Guth and revived for this performance by Katherine M. Carter, tended to undermine the narrative, resulting in an overabundance of visual superfluity. The “lion’s share” of that overabundance that involved a seriously oversized meteor. During the first act, it was hanging from the ceiling. After the intermission, it had broken its way through that ceiling and was now hovering over the performers. It finally descends to the floor during the concluding episode of the second act. Perhaps Guth wanted to convey the message that the passage of time can either benefit or deprive; but, as far as I am concerned, in the rich context of all the other elements of the production, that meteor was nothing other than a distraction!

Personally, I would like to believe that, like myself, most of the audience gave that meteor a quiet chuckle and then resumed their attention to a challenging plot that ultimately arrives at a satisfying conclusion.