Verdi’s ‘Attila’ at Met Resurrects Grossly Undervalued Opera

Ildar Abdrazakov playing lead in Giuseppe Verdi’s ‘Attila’

 by Sam Juliano

     Verdi’s Attila was written in 1846, but this ninth opera from one of opera’s greatest geniuses has, until this year escaped the attention of planning executives at the Metropolitan Opera, who have shunned the work, largely due to uneasiness with the demand on the singers.  But as part of the company’s commitment to bold resurrections of harmonic works with strong prospective appeal to the core traditionalists, Attila received some impassioned contributions from the director, set designer, singers, and especially veteran conductor extraordinaire Ricardo Muti, who proved to the world that this opera is a rhythmically charged work, with an abandance of solos, and rich musical lines.  With full choruses at the disposal of a polished orchestra who faithfully transcribed Verdi’s lyricism in supple chords and rifts, Muti demonstrated that as a stand alone, Atilla’s music is far from the lowest bracket of the composer’s work.  And when the singing is considered, it’s nearly a towering achievement.  I’d go as far as to contend that it belongs in a short group after La Traviata, Rigoletto, Il Trovatore, Aida and Otello, with the likes of Nabucco, La Frorza Del Destino, Un Ballo in Maschera, Simon Bocanegra, and Falstaff.  On the best of days it may possibly lead that group, and such was certainly the case on the Monday night I was in attendance.  This was a visionary performance in stark, imaginary staging, forceful singing and rich orchestration, which compellingly blends the youthful, patriotic vigor of its then young composer with the nuance and human insight that would become the hallmark of his long  career that included 28 operas. 

     Attila, set in the mid-fifth century, tells the story of the invasion of Italy by the ruthless title character, who rules the “Huns” is a “bel-canto” opera, written at a time when the works of Bellini, Donizetti and Rossini, were in favor in Italy and throughout Europe.  The only Verdi opera to feature a title role for bass voice, the opera is set in various resonant locales in Italy, amid the burning ruins of the city of Aquileia by the northern end of the Adriatic Sea, near the swamps of the lagoon where the city of Venice will be built; in virgin forests, and outside of and within sight of Rome.  The three act work (with a prologue)  explores the confrontation 0f the corrupt and failing Roman Empire with the invading barbarian hordes led by the aforementioned Attila the Hun.  Both sides are changed by this encounter, and a new order emerges.  Although a historical epic, Attila maintains an intense dramatic and musical economy.  Verdi emphasizes the individuals rather than abstract ideas, and created a memorable quartet of leads for this opera–presenting the barbarians, and especially Attila, as more honest in their intentions and straightforward in their actions than the Italians.  Narratively, the work describes how Attila, after the invasion, is stopped at the gates of Rome, and ultimately is ambushed and killed by the Italian slave Odabella, who had vowed to avenge her father–murdered by the Huns–and with whom Attila falls in love on the battlefield at the beginning of the opera.

     Basically Verdi weaves together several thematic strands here: a poignant love story; a historical fresco that created for audiences at the time (1846) a telling parallel between Italian history at the end of the Roman Empire and the struggle for independence by the Italians against their Austrian occupiers; a homage to the city of Venice, which commisioned the opera, and a rather ambiguous vision of paganism humbled by confrontation with the Catholic faith.  Director Pierre Audi suggests that Attila is maligned with a ‘problematic dramatic structure,’ but that it is still ‘effectively powered by music of remarkable invention and energy.”  Of course, when one looks at Verdi’s career, it can be easily seen that his early opera are largely “singer’s operas,” meaning the various dramas they contain, both ppersonal and political, are communicated directly through the vocal espressivity of the singers, although this is equally demanding of the orchestra and chorus.

     Says Audi:  “Together with Jacques Herzog, Pierre de Meuron, and Miuccia Prada, it was felt that telling this story in a poetic, stylized way, that brought it closer to a Greek tragedy was preferable to the illustrative opulence of a historical epic spectable.”

       The desolate vision of the rubble of destruction that symbolizes a battlefield and the subliminal prieval mystery and danger of the forest are the two visual themes of the production.  Audi stages the interaction of the five characters much like a Wagner production, with the inherent intensity that informs the epic scope of the German conductor’s long epics, and the tragedy here is Shakespearean, with Attila, whose journey through the opera is to relive the fate that leads to his own death, a death he seems to have staged himself.  One by one, the actors of his last supper (the banquet in Act II) fight to serve Attila the last blow, and through the tensions that bring them together, the audience discovers a world of chaos and anarchy, dangerously breeding nationalism and religious fervour in its quest for freedom from the invaders.  The seemingly superficial storyline of Attila was given far more profundity with its thematic essence, which includes the spirtual and poetic dimension of the work, at the expense of a predominant militarist approach, which would diminish the deeper and more artistically satisfying context.

     Ildar Abdrazakov is a compelling Russian bass tenor, who is captivating in the lead role, even as a few critics seem to be criticizing his range.  This is a rich and expressive voice that conveys the thunder of this larger than life character, who steadily becomes more and more vulnerable as the opera plays out.  There’s a celestial power too in soprano Violeta Urmana’s performance as Odabella, and Carlos Alvarez sung with purpose and distinction as the traitorous Roman general Ezio.  And both the tenor Ramon vargas and tenor Russell Thomas as the knight, Aquileia and Uldino respectively, did nothing to mar the uniform excellence of the singing.

     Shapes and abstract expanses are used most effectively on stage, especially in the prolonged battlefield section of Act I, which is basically a pile of stones.  The scenes with extensive greenery is rich and eye-catching, and there’s a fantasy quality to the costumes, which in this instance may have been a bit over-the-top.

    But this is an Atilla with power and grandeur, another mighly resurrection of a work once thought to be as hopelessly doomed as the title character.  it’s a shining moment.