Viva Verdi! Viva Luisotti!

Giuseppe Verdi’s Otello is the final production of San Francisco Opera’s fall season. The opera might be more commonly performed, but it makes strenuous vocal demands on the protagonist and it's difficult to find singers who have mastered the role. Fortunately, Johan Botha, a South African dramatic tenor, is more than up to the job. He brings a strikingly powerful voice and notably easy vocalism to the task. It is rare, indeed, to hear a tenor who deftly navigates Otello’s vocal difficulties.

But Botha, massive in both voice and physique, manages to maintain lyrical musical phrasing, and yet rise to stentorian climaxes. Still, his theatrical portrayal lags behind his musical sophistication, and, paradoxically, grand as he is, he seems to lack physicality. Botha’s portrayal of Otello’s ferocity and psychophysical nature are not credible in two crucial scenes: first, when, glowering with rage, he menaces Iago; and finally when, in cold-eyed madness, he suffocates Desdemona.

Just as Verdi sets the play’s intense emotion within a stark musical design, John Gunter's single-unit set design, used for all three acts, is also spare. The wooden triple-storied courtyard, or enclosed casern, is a barren place just right for the festering malignancy that it will incubate. For the bedroom scene in which Desdemona is murdered, three-story high white curtains cover the set, with a simple bed in the center. Music and set are both elemental. The effective lighting, by Duane Schuler, visually underscores the musical meanings: dark recesses and shadows when Iago lurks about, and washes of blood-red light as the wounded animal in Otello is unleashed.

Here is where Iago, the self-described “vile germ” and “base atom,” will breed like a virus from the “primeval mire” within him. The elegantly voiced baritone Marco Vratogna sang the part of Iago in the grand Italian manner. His smooth voice has precisely the right mixture of masculinity and bite needed to plant the sly, offhand, and seemingly innocuous remarks about Desdemona’s fidelity. Iago knows that these seeds will mature as a jealous rage, eventually destroying Otello. In the guise of a well-meaning functionary, he administers the poison with few and restrained gestures. However, when Otello is writhing on the floor at the apotheosis of Iago’s evil plot, Vratogna’s glorious high voice proclaims, “Ecco il leone!” (behold the Lion).

The beautiful Zvetelina Vassileva portrayed Desdemona demurely, unvaryingly sweet-natured and submissive. Here I had hoped for some glimmerings of steel in the soul, a little more expressiveness in the voice, and terror in the eyes. But, while her portrayal lacks physical urgency, she sings with flawless, rich Italianate sound, and graceful phrasing. Her voice is clear and attractive, musically perfect.

Acting Far Too Restrained

Whether the subdued acting and physical characterizations were directorial choices or particular artistic points of view, all three leading performers were alike. The Desdemona, Iago, and Otello are wonderful singers, though overly restrained in their acting. Such subtlety, more appropriate for prose theater, gets lost in the cavernous 

War Memorial Opera House. The original Sir Peter Hall production from Chicago was revived here by the director Stephen Barlow. Barlow re-creates vividly detailed chorus scenes and masterfully composed placements of the main characters, which balance the tensions on stage. His brilliant eye for psycho-geometric staging allows the audience to unconsciously grasp deeper layers of tension in the drama.

The supporting roles of Cassio (Beau Gibson, a San Francisco Opera Merola program alumnus), Emilia (Renée Tatum, an Adler Fellow), Roderigo (Daniel Montenegro), and Lodovico (Eric Halvarson) were all skillfully performed. Special kudos to Tatum, who brought to the stage not only her splendid voice but also credible passion.

All the performers seem to be having a love affair with their new maestro, Nicola Luisotti. Under his baton, the chorus bristles with a new vocal vitality. The dynamic orchestral playing, from everyone in the pit, conveys a fresh commitment. Thanks to the joyous Luisotti’s contagious love of music, suddenly everyone is getting high on Verdi. They are giving everything they’ve got to the performance. The opening thunderstorm and chorus scenes were hair-raising; the third-act concertato was overwhelming, as was the final death scene. All were swept up into the grand passion of Italian opera by Luisotti’s electrifying musical force.