This Nabucco, presented at the Teatro di San Carlo in co-production with the Opernhaus Zürich, emerges as a severe and carefully considered production, deliberately renouncing conventional spectacle in order to focus on the inner structure of Verdi’s drama. It avoids pomposity, proposing instead a reading grounded in family conflict and in the relationship between power and identity, entrusting the music and the performers with the task of giving emotional substance to the narrative.
Andreas Homoki sets the action in an indeterminate 19th century, more suggested than explicitly defined, opting for a single set dominated by a large abstract architectural element: a mobile green wall whose rotation continually reshapes the onstage space. This is not a mere scenic device, but a precise dramaturgical choice closely tied to the drama’s pivotal moments. The movement of the monolith alternately defines a sacred space or an arena of political conflict, a corner of intimate confession or an open expanse for choral action.
Homoki’s focus is quintessentially Verdian: the conflict between political power and private affections. The staging, setting aside the somewhat vacuous ballet hinted at by the chorus during the cabaletta “Salgo già del trono aurato”, and a few inconsistencies with the libretto, does not indulge in redundant symbolism or forced contemporisation. On the contrary, it adopts a strategy of subtraction, requiring from the performers a measured and conscious approach to acting. When this approach is supported by a strong stage personality, the results are notably effective; when, instead, the interpreter struggles to invest Verdi’s writing with meaning, the production inevitably reveals its more exposed areas.
The focal point of the evening was Ludovic Tézier, who delivered a Nabucco of considerable impact. His baritone, broad and noble, was guided by technical intelligence and a keen sense of the text. Tézier built the character from within, avoiding gratuitous declamation and portraying a vulnerable king marked by profound inner fractures.
Marina Rebeka’s Abigaille stood out for her energy and assurance, with a forceful stage presence and confidently projected high notes. Some unevenness in the middle register and a degree of excessive impetuosity in certain agile passages did not undermine an interpretation that remains overall effective, supported by professionalism and strong dramatic commitment.
Alongside these two dramatic poles, the remainder of the cast performed with professionalism and stylistic awareness. Michele Pertusi offered a Zaccaria of solid vocal authority, characterised by controlled emission, carefully shaped phrasing, and a consistently composed vocal line, conveying a notable musical dignity. Even though the deliberately restrained staging did not emphasise Zaccaria’s prophetic and political role, limiting his theatrical impact, this aspect remained evident. Piero Pretti approached Ismaele with correctness and close attention to the text, delivering clean singing and clear diction. Fenena, sung by Cassandre Berthon, was rendered with musicality and order, but remained a figure of limited expressive impact. Her voice was well-managed, yet the character would benefit from greater timbral and dramatic depth to emerge more clearly within the overall design. The remaining supporting roles were well-suited to the context and competently delivered.
On the podium, Riccardo Frizza approached the score with clear and controlled gestures, privileging ensemble solidity and support for the singers. His conducting avoided excessive emphasis, shaping an orderly musical arc, at times restrained, but always functional to the stage and respectful of the voices. The Orchestra of the Teatro di San Carlo responded with cohesion and precision, offering a balanced reading attentive to dynamics and formal transitions. The Chorus of the Teatro di San Carlo stood out for compactness, balance, and expressive intensity.
