You might be surprised by the turn of events in Giuseppe Verdi’s “Attila,” Sarasota Opera’s fourth and final production of the 2022 Winter Season. Yes, it is THE Attila the Hun and his pillaging hordes, but we see none of that. Instead, in Verdi’s only heroic leading role for bass, Attila can be admired for his sense of honor and ability to love, fear, and suffer betrayal. This juicy role is meant for a star bass with a great range of expression. For Young Bok Kim, a long-time favorite of Sarasota audiences, this spotlight was long overdue.
Although critics have long faulted the inconsistent qualities of the musical score, Attila has all the components of a most enjoyable opera. The vengeance and betrayal storyline also served as the patriotic call for a free and unified Italy. At its 1846 premiere in Venice at the theater La Fenice (The Phoenix), Venice was under the rule of Austria. It’s easy for modern-day audiences to miss references to the phoenix of Venice rising from the marshes to keep Huns at bay that called 19th century Italians to arms, but listen for them.
Attila, greeted by his singing hordes after conquering the ancient city of Aquileia, clearly commands the stage in strong low phrases, severe and authoritative. Yet when the comely captive Odabella, the daughter of the slain King of Aquileia, defies him we see another side.
m the moment soprano Rochelle Bard opens her mouth we hear the fire and finesse of her lovely voice. Reaching high before a two-octave drop to a menacing growl, she makes even Attila stand up and listen. “Santo di patria” is only the first of a string of defiant yet lyric outbursts from Odabella. Attila is smitten by her bravery and beauty.
Before the end of the Prologue’s first scene, we also met Ezio, the Roman general who waffles from warrior to traitor and back again before the curtain falls. In arching legato phrases, he proposes a self-serving alliance with the take-way rallying cry “You will have the universe; leave Italy for me!” Brian Major, a dramatic baritone with a clean edge, easily matches Kim’s Attila.
Set in the marsh of the Rio Alto near modern-day Venice, the second scene is Verdi at his best. In the early morning hours, a chorus of hermits weathers a storm from a thunderous orchestra. The set is dark, but as the storm dies away, the dawning sun fills the sky with color (thanks to Sarasota Opera’s lighting and set design team). The orchestra follows suit with more soothing music as the hermits sing praises, as refugees from Aquileia led by Foresto, a knight of Aquileia and Odabella’s true love, step off boats upstage.
Tenor Matthew Vickers declares this is where, like a phoenix, their new city will rise with heroic flair in “Ella in poter del barbaro.” It’s a big moment with full chorus and then ends with the most cohesive, and rightfully lauded, scene of the entire opera.
Act I is a tour de force for Kim’s Attila. Waking from a nightmare, Attila tells his slave Uldino of the terrifying confrontation which foreshadows when Leone, the historic Pope Leo, challenges him using the same words later in the scene. Garbed in papal white with procession cross, bass-baritone Stefano de Peppo intones the challenge with the authority of the Christian God surrounded by the sweet sounds of the chorus. However, we believe Kim’s tormented Attila and we have no hint that Uldino will later play a part in betrayal. Samuel Schlievert, who has the leading role of Mario Cavaradossi in this season’s “Tosca,” ably fills this minor role.
That same night, under a moonlit sky, a worried Odabella sings of Foresto with easily floating high notes and a voice quick to fly and soar. Foresto appears and we hear the first back and forth of “You betrayed me! /No, I didn’t” between the two. The fact that they do this more than once tests your patience. When they do embrace, we feel the chemistry of Bard and Vickers, but it’s overshadowed by their shared mission of vengeance against Attila.
The next morning Ezio grouses at his Caesar’s command to accept a truce with Attila and sings as a seasoned warrior aching to fight. The set and scene design across the board from the Sarasota Opera are both economical and detailed. The contrast between Attila’s darkened camp littered with plunder, swords, shields and tiger skins and the sunlit, crisp array of distinctively Roman shields and processional staffs is striking.
Martha Collins’ directorial detail is clear in large ensemble scenes such as the feast in Act II where we are engaged by the interplay of chorus members but not so much that we lose the storyline of the leading characters. Odabella reveals the cup Uldino had poisoned at Foresto’s bidding so that her own sword can do the job, only to be named Attila’s bride.
You guessed it, Odabella’s sword does the trick in the last act, finally. The best dying words of all time are used here with a twist by the heartbroken Attila, “Et tu, Odabella?”
Verdi uses the orchestra well in setting scenes and painting pictures. Whether loud and mighty for a storm, or tender harp, flute, and cello accompaniment, these musicians are stellar. Victor DeRenzi as both conductor and the visionary maestro of the Sarasota Opera brings it all together.
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