When Otello premiered at La Scala in 1887, it was more than just an opera premiere; it was a national event. Giuseppe Verdi, then 73, had been in virtual retirement for over 15 years, having last composed the Requiem and, before that, the triumphant Aida. Many assumed the great master had laid down his pen for good. His return to the stage, coaxed by his librettist Arrigo Boito and publisher Giulio Ricordi, was met with a feverish anticipation that gripped all of Italy.
What the audience heard that night was nothing short of a revolution. Otello is a work
...The "Chocolate Plot" to Snare a Genius
After the success of Aida in 1871, Verdi essentially retired. He was the most famous and beloved man in Italy, a national symbol, and he felt he had nothing left to prove. His publisher, Giulio Ricordi, and the composer-librettist Arrigo Boito thought otherwise. They longed to see Verdi tackle one more great subject, preferably Shakespearean. Ricordi orchestrated a dinner party, a "chance" meeting where Boito could be re-introduced to the master. The subject of Shakespeare’s Othello was broached, and Boito, himself a brilliant composer, offered to sketch a libretto, purely as a "what if". Ricordi and Boito called this their "chocolate plot," a way to tempt Verdi with an irresistible treat. Verdi was intrigued but noncommittal. Boito delivered a draft of the libretto that was, by all accounts, a literary masterpiece. Verdi read it and was deeply moved, but he kept it locked in his desk for months, refusing to commit. Finally, Boito, in a moment of frustration, threatened to give his text to another composer. This, combined with his own artistic restlessness, was the final push. Verdi began to compose, in secret, the opera he would simply call Iago.
Boito and Shakespeare: The Perfect Libretto
Arrigo Boito’s Otello libretto is widely considered the single greatest libretto in the history of Italian opera. It is a miracle of adaptation. Boito skillfully condensed Shakespeare’s sprawling play, eliminating the entire first act in Venice and beginning the opera in medias res, with Otello's arrival in Cyprus. This decision creates an immediate, explosive opening. Boito's true genius, however, was in his understanding of both Shakespearean poetry and Verdian drama. He invented new material that is perfectly in character, most notably Iago's nihilistic Credo, a terrifying monologue that gives the villain a dark, metaphysical dimension. He translated Shakespeare’s English into powerful, concise, and eminently musical Italian verse, giving Verdi the exact verbal triggers he needed for his musical and psychological explosions.
A Seamless Musical-Dramatic World
With Otello, Verdi shatters the formal structures that had defined his entire career. The clear-cut divisions between recitative, aria, and ensemble are dissolved. While one can still identify "aria-like" moments, such as Iago's Credo or Desdemona's Willow Song, they flow organically from the surrounding music, emerging and then sinking back into a continuous dramatic-orchestral texture. This was Verdi’s answer to the "endless melody" of his great German contemporary, Richard Wagner. Verdi, however, accomplishes this without sacrificing the Italianate focus on the human voice. He creates a new kind of fluid, powerful, and psychologically precise vocal writing, a declamando style that is both melodic and conversational, perfectly mirroring the rapid shifts in thought and emotion.
The Orchestra as Psychological Protagonist
In Verdi's earlier operas, the orchestra was primarily a powerful accompaniment, a "big guitar" as he sometimes called it. In Otello, the orchestra becomes a character in its own right, a complex psychological narrator. It does not just support the singers; it reveals their subconscious. The score is a masterpiece of orchestration, from the terrifying, elemental fury of the opening storm, with its thunderous organ pedal tones and shrieking woodwinds, to the delicate, almost chamber-music-like textures of the final act. Listen for the "kiss" theme, a soaring, lyrical melody that first appears when Otello greets Desdemona in Act I. This theme returns throughout the opera, distorted and poisoned by Iago’s insinuations, finally appearing as a ghostly, heartbreaking memory just before Otello kills his wife.
Otello: A New Kind of Heroic Tenor
The title role is a supreme test for any dramatic tenor, demanding both heroic power and profound vulnerability. Verdi's music for Otello is not the bright, martial music of a conventional hero. It is the music of an outsider, marked by a brooding, dark, and baritonal-hued lyricism. His entrance, Esultate!, is a brief, triumphant explosion, but his love duet with Desdemona immediately reveals his capacity for tenderness. His descent into jealousy is one of the most terrifying musical portraits ever composed. His vocal lines become fragmented, his outbursts explosive and uncontrolled, his harmonies darkened and unstable. The loss of his heroic identity is complete in the great Act III ensemble, where he collapses in an epileptic fit as Iago, his foot on his general's chest, proclaims, Here is the Lion!
Iago: The Philosophy of Evil
Verdi transforms Iago from a simple, disgruntled soldier into a figure of pure, motiveless evil. He is one of the most complex and fascinating baritone roles in the repertoire. Boito’s invention of the Credo in un Dio crudel (I believe in a cruel God) is the character's mission statement. It is not an aria, but a nihilistic monologue set to music that is sinister, sarcastic, and chillingly intellectual. Iago’s music is often deceptively light and conversational. His Era la notte (It was the night), where he falsely recounts Cassio’s "dream" about Desdemona, is a masterpiece of insinuation, a light, snake-like melody in the orchestra that weaves its poison directly into Otello’s ear. He is a new kind of villain: a conversational, modern, and utterly believable monster.
Desdemona: A Portrait of Purity
Desdemona is the opera’s musical and moral heart. Her music is a study in purity, characterized by high, floating, lyrical lines and serene, diatonic harmonies. She is the embodiment of light and innocence, a fact that makes her collision with Iago's darkness all the more tragic. The great love duet that closes Act I is one of the most beautiful in all of opera, a long, evolving conversation that moves from shared memory to present passion. Her ultimate tragedy is expressed in Act IV, in her two final set pieces. The Willow Song is a sad, folk-like ballad, full of dark premonitions, and the Ave Maria is a prayer of sublime, transcendent beauty. It is a moment of absolute stillness and grace before the final, brutal violence of the opera's climax.
The Power of the Ensemble
While the opera is a showcase for its three principals, Verdi’s mastery of the ensemble is on full display. The Act III concertato is a high point of the score. It begins as a grand, formal ensemble welcoming the Venetian ambassadors, but underneath this public music, Verdi weaves the private agonies of the main characters. We hear Desdemona's confusion, Iago's plotting, and Otello's barely suppressed, fragmentary rage, all clashing against the formal chorus. The ensemble finally shatters in a terrifying climax as Otello, in a public fit of madness, throws Desdemona to the ground. It is a devastating piece of musical architecture, showing a public façade crumbling to reveal the private horror beneath it.
The Final, Devastating Act
The fourth act is a taut, 50-minute masterpiece of suspense and tragedy. It is almost a self-contained play. The act is dominated by Desdemona, her Willow Song and Ave Maria creating an atmosphere of unbearable, quiet tension. Verdi's orchestration here is sparse and transparent, as if holding its breath. The murder itself is brutal, set to stark, violent orchestral slashes. The opera does not end, as a lesser work might, with a grand, self-pitying aria for the dying Otello. Instead, his final words, Un bacio... un bacio ancora... un altro bacio, are a broken, whispered recollection of the "kiss" theme from his Act I love duet. He dies, and the orchestra gives one final, desolate sigh. It is a conclusion of profound, understated, and utterly modern despair.
Act I: The Storm On the island of Cyprus, a furious storm rages. The people of Cyprus watch in terror, praying for the safety of their governor, Otello, whose ship is caught in the tempest. Roderigo, a Venetian in love with Otello’s wife, Desdemona, is present, as is Otello's ensign, Iago. Iago, speaking to Roderigo, reveals his intense hatred for Otello, who has promoted Cassio to captain, a position Iago coveted. Miraculously, Otello's ship lands safely. He steps ashore and, in a single, triumphant phrase, Esultate!, announces victory over the Turkish fleet. The storm subsides, and the crowd celebrates. Iago immediately begins to plot. He encourages a drinking song, egging on the good-natured Cassio, who is a lightweight. As Cassio becomes drunk, Iago cleverly provokes a fight between him and Roderigo. When Montano, the former governor, tries to intervene, Cassio wounds him. The fighting is interrupted by Otello, who arrives in a fury. Desdemona follows him. Otello, seeing the chaos and his captain's role in it, demotes Cassio on the spot. The crowd disperses. Alone, Otello and Desdemona sing a magnificent, sweeping love duet, recalling their courtship and reaffirming their profound love before heading into the castle.
Act II: Iago's Plot In a hall in the castle, Iago suggests to Cassio that he should seek out Desdemona and ask her to intercede with Otello on his behalf, as she has great influence over her husband. Cassio agrees. Once Cassio is gone, Iago delivers his terrifying, nihilistic monologue, Credo in un Dio crudel (I believe in a cruel God). He then watches as Cassio approaches Desdemona in the garden. He sees Otello approaching and, in a casual but poisonous remark, mutters, Ciò m'accora (That troubles me). Otello asks what he means, but Iago feigns innocence. He begins to plant the seeds of jealousy, warning Otello to be watchful of his wife. Desdemona enters and, in a large, open-air ensemble, innocently pleads Cassio's case. This only fans Otello's suspicion. Feeling a headache, he asks for a handkerchief. Desdemona offers him the one he first gave her, but he throws it to the ground. Emilia, Iago’s wife and Desdemona’s attendant, retrieves it. Iago forces Emilia to give it to him. Once the women leave, Otello's jealousy fully erupts. Iago seizes his moment, fabricating a story about hearing Cassio talk in his sleep about Desdemona. He then claims to have seen Cassio with the special, strawberry-embroidered handkerchief. This is the final "proof" for Otello. He and Iago join in a ferocious, thundering duet, Sì, pel ciel marmoreo giuro! (Yes, by the marble heavens I swear!), vowing vengeance.
Act III: The Handkerchief In the great hall, Iago tells Otello that Cassio is nearby and that he will trick him into talking about Desdemona. Desdemona enters, and Otello greets her, but his calm is a pretense. He asks her to plead for Cassio, which she does, further enraging him. He then demands the strawberry handkerchief. When she cannot produce it, he accuses her of being unfaithful. Desdemona, utterly baffled and horrified, protests her innocence, but Otello forces her to leave. He then hides as Iago brings in Cassio. Iago cleverly gets Cassio to talk about his actual lover, Bianca, but Otello, hearing only fragments, believes he is talking about Desdemona. Cassio then produces the handkerchief, which he says he mysteriously found in his lodging (where Iago had planted it). Otello, seeing this, is convinced. He plots to kill Desdemona. At that moment, ambassadors from Venice arrive. They announce that Otello has been recalled to Venice and that Cassio is to be his successor as governor of Cyprus. Otello, in a public fit of madness, insults and throws Desdemona to the ground, to the horror of all. As the entire company sings a massive, complex ensemble, Otello collapses in a seizure. Iago, his foot on his prostrate general, triumphantly cries, Here is the Lion!
Act IV: The Willow Song and the Murder In her bedchamber, Desdemona is preparing for bed, assisted by Emilia. Filled with a dark premonition, she sings the sad, traditional Willow Song, a song her mother’s maid used to sing before she died. After Emilia leaves, Desdemona kneels and says a final prayer, the Ave Maria. She then lies down. Otello enters, his mind set on murder. He kisses her three times, and she awakens. He confronts her one last time, accusing her of loving Cassio. Despite her desperate pleas of innocence, he refuses to believe her and smothers her. Emilia, banging on the door, cries that Roderigo has been killed by Cassio. She enters, sees the dying Desdemona, and cries for help. Iago, Cassio, and others rush in. Emilia, realizing her husband's treachery, reveals the truth about the handkerchief. Montano enters and confirms Iago’s villainy, having heard Roderigo's dying confession. Iago, exposed, flees. Otello, finally understanding the horrifying truth, draws a concealed dagger. Lamenting that he kissed her before he killed her, he stabs himself, dying beside her on the bed.