Otello, Metropolitan Opera House, New York — review

A frigid, northern atmosphere supplants Cyprus as the setting for Verdi’s opera in the Met’s new production, which opened the season on Monday night. With Otello, Bartlett Sher, a favoured producer at the Metropolitan Opera since his 2006 debut with Il barbiere di Siviglia, for the first time at the house tries his hand at a tragic work, and the result is a serious and often compelling effort with a magnificence worthy of the Met, even if one can poke holes in his underlying concept. In the programme notes Sher links Verdi’s librettist, Arrigo Boito, to Ibsen, of whom the erudite Boito was aware if not necessarily a documented admirer.

The connection is more apparent in the shift in locale than in any recognisable Ibsenesque traits, such as realism or feminism. Projections (by Luke Halls) of a forbidding sea interface with frosty images. Es Devlin’s arresting sets include painted French-style furniture and glassy structures that could be made of icicles that frequently move about the stage. Donald Holder’s lighting depicts the sky in unsettling shades. Costumes (by Catherine Zuber) in 19th-century style have a forbidding formality, especially Desdemona’s elaborate gowns. It is as if Otello, upon his return from vanquishing the pride of the Muslims, has become imprisoned in a hostile landscape with no means of escape.

The problem is that the approach also has a chilling effect on the drama, even if Sher’s direction of the principals is well considered. There is a lack of italianità, and you watch absorbed by the logic Iago employs to upend Otello’s capacity for reason without becoming fully involved emotionally.

Aleksandr Antonenko’s Otello may be in part to blame: others have conveyed Otello’s anguish with greater depth. But he sang brilliantly and, while his intonation was not flawless, there were many striking moments, such as the final high notes of Act One, sung securely and at moderate volume. The local press has made much of the fact that Otello would not appear in blackface, an issue that, in the context of this surpassing opera, seems almost trivial.

The audience favourite was the Bulgarian soprano Sonya Yoncheva, who has emerged as a major artist and offered here an assured Desdemona sung with a voice of lustre and ideal weight. However, she could have done more with words, and while she sang Desdemona’s tender moments expressively, her performance lacked beautifully floated pianissimos. As Iago, Željko Lučić relished the villain’s words and often delivered them in a spine-chilling sotto voce while demonstrating ample power in big moments, such as the vengeance duet with Otello. Dimitri Pittas was an able Cassio, Günther Groissböck an outstanding Lodovico, and Jennifer Johnson Cano a rich-voiced Emilia.

Conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin led a performance of cracking authority. Explosive moments registered strongly, Desdemona’s Act Four scene was shaped with great feeling (ideal balances were struck between stage and pit) , and the orchestra played as if inspired. The chorus also had a good night and looked impressive, if inert, as Otello made his precarious arrival in the first scene.

The performance was dedicated to the memory of Jon Vickers, a peerless Otello whose performance is documented in a 1978 recording on Met DVD.

metopera.org