Every so often, the opera capitals of Western Europe and America see waves of big vocal talent from regions they think of as provincial backwaters if they think of them at all. Economics, along with prestige, of course, has its part to play. Hungry for opportunity, prize-winning singers from the former Soviet Union, the Balkans, Korea, and South Africa are finding employment everywhere from Vienna to San Francisco. And now Mongolia! The baritone Amartuvshin Enkhbat, from Sukhbaatar aimag, Khalzan (pop. 1,751), remembers the still-vital nomadic culture of his ancestors. Singing into the unbounded acoustic expanse of the steppes, he has said, laid the foundation of his vocal technique years before he ever set foot in a music conservatory. And while he no longer herds the nomads’ immemorial “five snouts” (horses, sheep, goats, yaks, and Bactrian camels), Enkhbat remains every inch a nomad. Since his first-prize win at Plácido Domingo’s Operalia in Beijing in 2012, he has forged ties with companies all over the map. In Baghdad by the Bay, the eponymous widowed sea pirate turned statesman of Simon Boccanegra is his third Verdi assignment. Over long arcs, the opera is grave and noble—arguably too much so. But in Verdi’s final revisions, he added a tempestuous new scene, set in Genoa’s Council Chamber, that rights the proportions. Enemy factions are baying for blood; and it’s only Doge Simone’s tremendous call for peace that averts civil war. Eleonora Buratto, whose creamy soprano and phrasing have led historically minded fans to think of the incomparable Renata Tebaldi, sings Boccanegra’s long-lost daughter Maria. Father-and-daughter reunions are a Verdi specialty. The one in this opera ranks with his finest. —Matthew Gurewitsch