Verdi’s Take on “Macbeth” at the Met Opera

Even the bleakest of Shakespeare’s tragedies, like “Macbeth,” are punctuated by an occasional moment of comic relief. Verdi wanted to avoid making his “Macbeth” too pretty, and broke with bel canto convention when writing the music for the opera. But the dark-hued score is sometimes incongruously lightened by his trademark cheery oom-pah-pah orchestral accompaniments, which (in his early works in particular) often results in an odd pairing of serious lyrics and upbeat music.

The director Peter Hall, who staged “Macbeth” at the Metropolitan Opera in the 1980s, said: “You sense Rossini looking over Verdi’s shoulder. It’s the world of trick or treat, a gothic comedy of black magic, very unlike Shakespeare’s world of dread.”

In a 2007 staging that returned to the Metropolitan Opera on Thursday evening, the director Adrian Noble indulges in playful touches that highlight the wit of Verdi’s music for the witches, represented here by a chorus of frumpily dancing, cardigan-clad bag ladies.

Verdi composed “Macbeth” in 1847, a tumultuous time in Europe, and included a scene in which Scottish refugees sing of their oppressed homeland. (He revised the work in 1865.) Mr. Noble’s effective staging, with its dark, ominous sets, places the action in a war-torn 20th-century setting, populated by gun-carrying militias. The apparitions in Act III appear though 21st-century wizardry in a crystal ball. Some touches were ambiguous, like the wildly swinging lamp, which emitted such a bright light that several audience members complained it hurt their eyes.

Verdi stipulated that he wanted Lady Macbeth to look “ugly and evil” and to sound “rough, harsh and gloomy.” The slim, glamorous soprano Nadja Michael certainly didn’t look ugly, dressed first in a slinky white nightgown and then a striking red dress for the banquet scene. But her sometimes off-pitch singing veered between merely hard-edged and actually shrill, beginning with “Vieni! t’affretta!” and often sounded choppy, as in the “Brindisi.”

She had volume and power, however, if not vocal elegance, and she was dramatically convincing. Her facial expressions and movements conveyed the essence of this creepy, manipulative and ultimately deranged character, who has a more proactive role here than in the Shakespeare original. She managed to sing her sleepwalking scene while walking precariously over a row of chairs placed in front of her by the witches.

In the title role, the baritone Thomas Hampson looked and sounded strangely bland in the first two acts. But after intermission his performance became much more engaging, and he finally showed real emotion during his last aria.

Günther Groissböck was a serviceable Banquo and Richard Cox a strong Malcolm. As Macduff, Dimitri Pittas offered one of the most moving moments in an evening that was not always involving, with a heartfelt, expressively rendered version of “Ah, la paterna mano.”

The highlight of the night was the conducting: Gianandrea Noseda led a briskly paced and taut interpretation and the orchestra sounded in top form. The witches occasionally struggled to keep up, but Mr. Noseda illuminated the many subtleties and imaginative touches of Verdi’s score.