A History Lesson from the Opera

Last night, I had the privilege of attending the Washington National Opera performance of Verdi’s Nabucco. It was terrific! It was true, traditional, opera, the way that Italians especially know and do: short bursts of confusing plot development mixed with long, emotive, arias and ensemble singing and beautiful music that doesn’t quite mesh with the story.

Nabucco isn’t Verdi’s most famous opera. It’s far from his best or most mature work. It really cemented him, though, as a great Italian opera composer. This was his 3^rd opera. His first was a minor success, which got him a contract for 2 more. While writing the second, Verdi’s wife and two children died. The second opera closed after a single performance, a miserable flop. Verdi not surprisingly sank into depression. Somehow, someone convinced him to take this quirky libretto, a rather fanciful extrapolation of the biblical story of Nebuchadnezzar and the fall of Babylon, and compose on it.

What comes out is beautiful and tuneful, and it’s easy to see why the Italians love it so. It’s also a huge production, requiring whole choruses of Hebrew slaves and Assyrian priests and soldiers. And the soprano and baritone leads (Abigaille and Nabucco) are extraordinarily difficult, the former known for wrecking the voices of sopranos who take it on too early in their careers. As such, it’s not performed with nearly the frequency of many of Verdi’s more famous operas.

I had two very favorite musical moments in the opera. In the first act, we discover that the younger Assyrian Princess (Fenena) and the young leader of the Hebrews are former lovers, which tortures the older, more power-mad Assyrian Princess (Abigaille). Three very talented younger artists, including a wonderful young tenor I’m privileged to know, Sean Panikkar (http://www.seanpanikkar.com/_/Home.html), played these roles and sang a beautiful version of this trio. It was stunning, more beautiful and well-balanced than this recording, but at least you can get an idea.

The real core of Nabucco, though, is in its history, and the WNO’s staging was designed specifically to present this in a blatant way that would never have been part of this production in its early years. You see, when Verdi wrote Nabucco, Italy was largely occupied by Austrians, and Nabucco became a rallying cry for the young Italians interested in “Risorgimento”, literally “the resurgence,” but, more accurately, a revolution eliminating foreign rule and creating a unified Italy.

What’s most interesting to me is that Verdi probably didn’t intend for this to be the result of his interpretation of this story. Historians think, and I’m inclined to agree, that he was just setting this strange story, hopefully in a way that would give his fellow opera goers some great tunes to sing. Inadvertently, he fortified a movement, and it in turn fortified him as the opera was performed constantly across Italy in its first couple of years, which brings me to my second favorite moment (and third, though they’re the same music.)

“Va pensiero” is also known as the chorus of the Hebrew slaves. It’s a brilliant, warm lament about oppression and a dream of freedom. Perhaps Verdi knew full well what he was doing, but to this day, this chorus is a (not “the”) national anthem for Italy. When the opera is performed, traditionally, the audience erupts into thunderous applause and cries of “Viva, L’Italia!”, and the performance often recycles to the beginning of the chorus for a reprise. Here’s a beautiful example:

Last night’s staging featured no immediate reprise, and in the end, the reason was clear. During the overture and at each intermission, a group of people dressed in mid-19^th century garb danced or processed across the stage to a replica of an opera box, set up along the stage right wing. For the most part, these people just took their places and watched the opera. Occasionally, I wondered why the singers appeared to be sinning to them fairly directly.

When it came time for “Va pensiero”, the stage changed completely. The sets were turned around so that we in the audience were made to feel we were sitting behind the stage, and there were a number of people in 19^th century clothes downstage, between us and the sets – so these people were supposed to be backstage staff at a 19th century Italian opera house. The Hebrew chorus took their places and sang “Va pensiero”, and most of the people “backstage” stopped in the moment, plaintively singing along. After the chorus, and the thunderous applause, and a few cries of “Viva, L’Italia!” everyone cleared the stage, and the sets were moved for the next scene, by crew dressed in that 19^th century style. No reprise.

In those moments, I realized that the director had seized on his opportunity to tell the story of Verdi, Nabucco, and the Risorgimento by creating this little opera within the opera. The fancy people and soldiers were Austrians, granted the good boxes at the opera and the protection of soldiers by virtue of their rule. Nabucco was a gentle but effective poke at the political situation in Italy at the time.

During the bows, when Abigaille took her initial bow, she quieted the audience, and the entire cast sang “Va pensiero” again, holding the colors of the Italian flag. During this rendition, several of the “Austrian” soldiers appeared on the stage, threatening, but the cast merely finished their singing, and then finished their bows, and the show ended.

What a brilliant idea, this little opera within and opera. It was a very special homage to this de facto Italian anthem, composed, almost incidentally, but a 27-year-old Italian just hoping that his third opera wouldn’t be his last.

What an honor it is to learn things everywhere I go, and a blessing to learn while wallowing in this kind of beauty.