Othello

Verdi’s 1887 opera, based on Shakespeare’s 1603 play, is a tragedy fueled by jealousy, suspicion, and masculine rage. In today’s terms, it can also be seen as a text about men’s abusive treatment of women. The manipulative Iago convinces Othello, who was just declared a hero after winning a naval battle with the Turks, that Desdemona, whom he has just married, is unfaithful to him. The general chooses to believe his treacherous ensign rather then his loving wife, and strangles her with his own hands. A minute later he cries a river over the woman he murdered, just like Don José, also a military man, in Carmen. Today we know that being hailed for killing in battle, does make men more prone to take out their aggressions on their wives at home.

The production at the Tel Aviv Opera, first mounted at the Wiener Staatsoper in 2019, doesn’t seem to have any new take on the drama of the opera. The opening, in which the people of Cyprus await the arrival of the new governor in a stormy evening, is impressively staged. A large sheet of white cloth in the back of the stage simulates boat sails flapping in the wind, and on it appears a shadow of a sailor battling the waves. On opening night, the orchestra – conducted by Dan Ettinger – was electrifying. The different instruments sounded strong, sharp and precise as they mimicked the wind and the thunder. The chorus was wonderful as well. However, the huge rust-colored walls on both sides of the stage, probably meant to emulate military barracks, didn’t leave the singers much space to move and they seemed stuck in the middle of an overcrowded stage.

According to Niv Hoffman, who directed the revival of Adrian Noble’s production, the plot stayed in Cyprus as in the original play, but was moved from the 16^th century to the late 19th century. “The story is about the friction between the British imperialists and the local residents”, he told Habama website. “The Victorian period stands out in the costumes. For example, the English who rule the island are hot all the time compared to the locals who are used to the Mediterranean weather…We see that the English are sweating, they are uncomfortable with the local weather.” I must say I didn’t notice any of this. Maybe if the sets had incorporated Cyprian characteristics it would have been clearer that this was the director’s intension. As is, the sets are quite drab, until the final scene in which many candles appear on the floor surrounding Desdemona.

But the major problem of the performance stood out when Kristian Benedikt, wearing a white caftan in the role of Othello, started to sing. The Lithuanian Tenor was obviously sick on opening night. His voice was week and colorless and now and then he hid a cough. During the intermission, an announcer informed the audience that Benedikt agreed to go on with the performance despite his poor health. It would have been better to replace him rather than strain his voice and the audience’s ears. Benedikt did sing better in the second half, after receiving some kind of treatment, but he still wasn’t at his best.

Happily, the delicate Alla Vasilevitsky was divine as Desdemona. Her pure and powerful soprano was put to great use, as well as her significant acting talent. Her lyrical and tragic rendition of the Willow Song was the highlight of the evening. I hope she doesn’t catch whatever is ailing Benedikt, as she kissed him on his lips in the first act.

The Russian tenor Alexey Dolgov cut and dashing figure as the young captain Cassio. He also sang beautifully. And in the role Iago, Romanian baritone Ionut Pascu was his usual commanding villain. Best of all, except for Alla, were the two choirs – the Meitar children’s choir (all dressed in sailors costumes like the singing kids in The Sound of Music) sang lovely in their one scene, and the singers of the Israeli Opera Chorus were at their best throughout the performance. Here is hoping Benedikt gets well until his next scheduled performance.