Attila, like other early Verdi operas, has always sparked my interest. It’s a ‘patriotic opera’, but careful analysis reveals a certain scepticism behind the composer’s patriotism. The opera was received from the outset with some ambivalence, and was later undervalued and performed infrequently, only recently deemed worthy of opening opera seasons. It is the quintessential Venetian opera because it embraces the legend of the city’s birth, set as it is in ‘Rio-Alto, in the Adriatic Lagoons’.

From an orchestral perspective, Attila conforms to tradition, with a medium-sized orchestra, but it’s innovative at the same time. I’m thinking of its use of colour for expression, which we can find in the description of the storm, and the depiction of the sun rising over the lagoon, with the boats gently rocking on its waves. In Attila, Verdi demonstrated his ability to turn away from operatic tradition if it failed to match the dramatic context, seeking original ideas and inspiration even outside Italy.

Besides that, the choice of subject matter was in itself ambitious, because Verdi set to music the tragedy published in 1809 by the German, Zacharias Werner, – Attila, König der Hunnen – having been struck by the eponymous role, but also that of Azzio (Ezio in the opera) and of Ildegonda (renamed Odabella).

Attila remains Attila, but his emotions and deeds are reinvented, firstly in the libretto, but above all in the music: the Hun who descends from the north to conquer southern Europe will face something much more treacherous than military obstacles: the supernatural. Attila is terrified of Leone and his God. What came before (Giovanna d’Arco) and afterwards (Macbeth) in the same vein emphasises Verdi’s interest in everything that goes beyond the bounds of human reason. As a result, I agree with Budden in thinking that Attila is a fascinating work of consolidation