Verdi – Neil Kurtzman: Recent Episodes
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So many different outsiders have controlled Sicily that if an alien power were to conquer Earth, it would likely start on that island. Among the temporary rulers of the place are the Greeks, the Carthaginians, the Romans, the Vandals, the Ostrogoths, the Byzantines, the Muslims, the Normans, the Angevin French, the Bourbons, and now the Italians. I’ve probably left some passersby out, but what’s a conquest or two among a people who outlasted all of them?
Verdi’s next opera after the blockbusters of Rigoletto, Traviata, and Trovatore was written for Paris with a libretto by the omnipresent Eugène Scribe. Les vêpres siciliennes (I vespri siciliani in its Italian version) took the composer two years to complete because of a variety of snafus. Despite being a big hit at its premiere, it quickly dropped out and is the most infrequently performed of Verdi’s mature operas. It succeeded with a French audience despite depicting the French as bad guys and ending with their massacre.
I find it very hard to understand its relative neglect. It’s a masterpiece on a par with Verdi’s other great operas. Berlioz, music’s greatest critic wrote: “In Les vêpres the penetrating intensity of the melodic expressiveness, the sumptuous, wise variety of the instrumentation, the vastness and poetic sonority of the concerted pieces, the hot color that shines throughout … communicate to this opera an imprint of grandeur, a species of sovereign majesty more distinguishable than in this composer’s earlier products.”
Its story is built around the rebellion in 1282 on Easter. It started in Palermo and led to the death or expulsion of 13,000 French men and women. Hélène is a fervent revolutionary, as is her lover Henri. But things get complex when Henri discovers that Montfort, the leader of the French, is his father. He’s torn between passion and revolutionary zeal on the one hand and filial duty on the other. Hélène is similarly torn. She decides to break with Henri. Procida (the revolutionary leader) is furious at her lack of zeal, as is Henri for her lack of romantic commitment. Then Montfort arrives, takes the couple’s hands, joins them together, and pronounces them married as the bells begin to ring. This is the signal for the Sicilians to rush in and hurl themselves upon Montfort and the French.
Wagner’s Ring Cycle ends as it started. The ring forged from the gold stolen from the Rhine Maidens is returned to them. Brünnhilde, in a stunning solo, sums up much of what has happened in the light years of music drama that have preceded this final scene. Siegfried’s corpse is before her. He’s been stabbed in the back earlier in the opera. After she takes the ring from his lifeless finger and throws it in the Rhine, she mounts a horse and rides into the flames. Valhalla catches fire, as does the hall of the locals. All the gods die, as do most of the mortals. There are a few survivors.
The cycle is a generous smorgasbord of leitmotifs. The opera and the cycle end with the redemption-through-love motif. It’s not clear what has been redeemed by love as only a bit of property has been returned to its rightful owners, but that’s the story and Wagner’s sticking to it. Kirsten Flagstad is the soprano and Wilhelm Furtwängler is the conductor.
The title role of Verdi’s Rigoletto is the greatest role ever written for a baritone. That’s saying a lot, given that the composer wrote more great parts for the baritone than any other composer of opera. Of his 26 operas, five have the baritone’s name as their title. All the rest of the composer’s operas have major baritone parts that are among the most challenging and important in the genre.
Rigoletto is the story of a man brought down not by a flaw but by a virtue – his love for his daughter. The opera’s most demanding and dramatic scene is when Rigoletto realizes that his daughter has been kidnapped by the Duke of Mantua’s courtiers and then given over to him. Rigoletto first demands and then pleads for her release. They thought she was Rigoletto’s mistress and are horrified when they find that she was his daughter, but it’s too late for them to rectify their error, especially to a man they hold in contempt.
‘Cortigiani, vil razza dannata’ is an aria (an inadequate noun for a scene of such overwhelming dramatic impact) that makes extraordinary vocal and histrionic demands on the singer. It takes a great baritone to fully express the dramatic power Verdi put into this inspired writing. Most baritones run out of operatic gas before it’s over.
Here are a dozen recordings of Cortigiani sung by 12 baritones active in the previous century. These are followed by a video of one of the leading baritones of today performing the scene. Below the video is the text in Italian and English. They are not presented in chronological order, but according to my arbitrary preference.
The first is by Leonard Warren, the greatest Verdi baritone I ever heard in performance. It’s taken from a 1956 Met performance. Note both the power and subtlety of his singing.
Next is Warren’s younger contemporary Robert Merrill. Merril had a distinctive sound unlike that of any other baritone I know of. His only flaw was occasional difficulty with the very high notes Verdi wrote for his baritones.
Lawrence Tibbet was the first in a succession of great American baritones. In addition to being a regular at the Met, he appeared in films and on radio.
Cornell MacNeil in his prime, the first half of his career, was a singer capable of volcanic explosions and high notes of extraordinary intensity.
The remainder of the baritones are Europeans. Matteo Managuerra was French, though of Italian ancestry. He was a regular at both the Met and in Chicago where I heard him several times. His performances were always at the highest level.
Giuseppe Taddei was active in the post World War II era. His career was noted for its length. He sang with effectiveness until he was in his late sixties.
Domenico Viglione Borghese was a baritone active in the first part of the 20th century. Those who heard him said he had the biggest baritone voice they had ever heard. After his singing days were over he had a successful second career as a character actor in the movies.
Tito Gobbi was one of the 20th century’s greatest singing actors. Though his voice was not the magnificent organ of some of his coevals it had a distinctive sound and he used it with the greatest skill and expression. He was an outstanding artist.
Ettore Bastianini is one of opera’s saddest stories. He had a bright baritone that was effective and well focused. He died at age 44 from throat cancer. He sang Rigoletto at the Met only one time out of the 89 performances he gave with the company.
Renato Bruson was one of the world’s leading baritones during the last third of the 20th century. He appeared in all of the major houses, though only 19 times at the Met. I don’t know what limited his New York appearances. He was particularly known for his portrayal of Rigoletto.
Renato Cappuccilli sang everywhere, but only one time at the Met. I heard him several times in Chicago. He was known as a Verdi baritone. He appeared in 18 of Verdi’s operas.
Leo Nucci has had one of the longest careers of any singer within living memory. Only Placido Domingo can boast similar durability. Now 82 Nucci sang Rigoletto in 2016 at La Scala. He is said to have performed the role 500 times.
The video below as promised above shows Quinn Kelsey’s interpretation of the great scene. You can judge for yourself whether he meets the standard of past perfomers who excelled in the role.
| Cortigiani, vil razza dannata,per qual prezzo vendeste il mio bene?A voi nulla per l’oro sconviene,ma mia figlia è impagabil tesor.La rendete…o, se pur disarmata,questa man per voi fora cruenta;nulla in terra più l’uomo paventa,se dei figli difende l’onor.Quella porta, assassini, m’aprite!(Si getta ancor sulla porta che gli è nuovamentecontesa dai gentiluomini; lotta alquanto, poi ritorna spossato.)La porta, la porta, assassini, m’aprite.Ah! voi tutti a me contro venite!Tutti contro me!(piange)Ah! Ebben, piango. Marullo, signore,tu ch’hai l’alma gentil come il core,dimmi tu dove l’hanno nascosta?Marullo, signore, dimmi tu dove l’hanno nascosta?È là…non è vero?…È là?…non è vero?…è là?…non è vero?Tu taci!…Oihmè!Miei signori, perdono, pietate!Al vegliardo la figlia ridate!Ridonarla a voi nulla ora costa,tutto al mondo tal figlia è per me.Signori, perdono, ecc. | Courtiers, vile, damnable rabble,how much were you paid for my treasure?There’s nothing you won’t do for money,but my daughter is beyond any price.Give her back…or this hand, though unarmed,will prove a dread weapon indeed.A man will fear nothing on earthwhen defending his children’s honor.Assassins, open that door!(He again attacks the door, is dragged away from it by the courtiers, struggles awhile, then gives up,exhausted.)The door, the door, assassins, open it.Ah! You’re all against me!All against me!(weeping)Then I’ll weep. Marullo, my lord,you whose soul is as gentle as your heart,tell me, where have they hidden her?Marullo, my lord, tell me, where have they hidden her?She’s in there…isn’t she?isn’t that so?…in there?….isn’t that so?You don’t answer…Alas!My lords, forgive me, have pity!Give an old man back his daughter!To give her back can cost you nothing now,but to me my daughter is everything.Lords, forgive me, etc. |
Aida returned to the Met’s stage for the 1199th time today. It was the 4th time Verdi’s masterpiece has been telecast in the company’s HD series. This appearance marked the first telecast of Michael Mayer’s new production that replaced Sonja Frisell’s extravaganza which had survived about 270 mountings at the New York opera palace and was replaced for no discernible reason.
Director Michael Mayer having previously wreaked havoc on Rigoletto and La Traviata did the same with the master’s Egyptian epic. But as usual, Verdi can survive any semiconscious conceit. Mayer has a team of early 20th-century archeologists (the modern term for grave robbers) discover the ruins of buildings in ancient Memphis where the opera is set. We are lucky that he didn’t move the scene to Tennessee. They wandered around during the whole opera as if they were January 6th rioters seeking the capital only in the wrong year and country. They even replaced the usual menagerie during the Triumphal Scene’s famous march – The March of the Archeologists was what we got.
The sets were dark and dingy and looked like Le Corbusier’s stone fortress construction of Chandigarh in the Punjab. They were so drab as to suggest they really were at least four millennia old. There was no Nile in the Nile scene and in fact, the set was the same for both Acts 3 and 4 though the stage elevator was used to raise the set and reveal an underground tomb for the opera’s last scene. The scene also has a prominent ballet. What we got was a regiment of male contortionists whose movements seemed choreographed by the Assistant Janitor at the Ministry of Silly Walks who had been given a giant set of Leggos. The dancers also tended to fall in sequence like a line of dominoes. Ballet in opera is always a poor relation, but this one looked starved.
The costumes for the principals had hints of ancient Egypt, though their colors were as muted as the scenery. Those for the supers looked as if they were borrowed from an Italian provincial opera house’s setting of Simon Boccanegra. Another Verdi opera waiting for Mayer to place in Coney Island.
Verdi can withstand any assault if the singers and orchestra are first-rate. Aida needs great singers to be realized as Verdi intended. Today there were some good ones in the cast. The title role is one of opera’s greatest and most challenging. Angel Blue was good as the enslaved princess, but she’s not a Verdi soprano. She has neither the vocal heft nor the silky sound required to realize the part. There’s little she can do to improve her impersonation as her voice is best suited for lighter roles.
Piotr Beczala suffers from the same problem. He’s a fine artist, but he’s a lirico-spinto tenor cast in a role that requires an heroic tenor like Caruso, Tucker, Corelli, or Domingo. Beczala finessed the difficult ending of Celeste Aida by emitting a throaty and weak B-flat. He would have done better to blast the note out in disregard of Verdi’s “pp” and “morendo” as most tenors do. Another miscast singer.
Romanian-Hungarian mezzo-soprano Judit Kutasi was very good as Amneris. She has sung the role many times and has it down to a z. Good as she is, she lacks the volcanic fury needed to steal the show during the Temple Scene which is a real possibility for a great and larcenous mezzo.
The best singing of the afternoon came from baritone Quinn Kelsey. He has the Verdi sound and was outstanding in the relatively brief role of Amonasro. Dmitry Belosselskiy had a good if underpowered sound as the villainous priest Ramfis.
Maestro Yannick Nézet-Séguin seems to have gotten a grip on Verdi’s miraculous score compared to the broadcast I heard earlier in the month. The Met Orchestra hurled Verdi’s thunderous cords like a musical spear. They were tremendous as is Aida.
Video director Gary Halvorson was relatively restrained, at least by his endoscopic standard. The picture did not distract from the performance.
Aida occupies a special place in the Verdi canon. It was supposed to be his last major work. He was 58, rich, and famous at the time of the opera’s premiere. He intended to spend the rest of his life tending to his large farm and estate outside of Busseto. He had 30 years more to live, During that span he produced three major works – the Requiem Mass in honor of writer Alessandro Manzoni and his two valedictory operas Otello and Falstaff, each a masterpiece of the highest order.
Sixteen years separated Aida from Otello. Aida is such a perfect work that it’s hard to imagine that Verdi could match it yet surpass it. It is simultaneously grand and intimate – contrast the Triumphal Scene with the Tomb Scene. Verdi’s mastery of intensity and sensitivity is unmatched. It’s easy to think that its composer had concluded he had reached the limit of his genius. Yet miraculously he hadn’t. Aida is a perfect opera; still, Verdi was able to produce two operas even more perfect.
Verdi always thought the audience was the only critic that counts. The local theater in which I watched this performance was fuller than I’ve seen it during the entirety of this series of HD telecasts. Some people even drove from Odessa to Lubbock to see the performance – 139 miles. After more than a century and a half the critic still delivers the same verdict of approval.
Aida……….Ange Blue
Radamès……….Piotr Beczala
Amneris……….Judit Kutasi
Amonasro……….Quinn Kelsey
Ramfis……….Morris Robinson
King………. Harold Wilson
Messenger……….Yongzhao Yu
Priestess……….Amanda Batista
Conductor……….Yannick Nézet-Séguin
Production……….Michael Mayer
Set Designre……….Christine Jones
Costume Designer……….Susan Hilferty
Lighting Designer……….Kevin Adams
Choreographer……….Oleg Glushkov .
Projection Design……….59 Productions
Production Consultant……….Stephen Pickover
Chorus Director……….Donald Palumbo
Video Director……….Gary Halvorson
Last night a performance of the Met’s new production of Aida was broadcast over the company’s Sirius channel. It’s always hazardous to make judgments based on a single listen, so I’ll make a fiew tentative comments. I’ll expand these after seeing the production on January 25th as part of this year’s HD series.
The vocal quality, which is all I can opine on, was below par. This was particularly true of Angel Blue’s performance in the title role. Her sound seemed more appropriate for Puccini’s Mimì than for Verdi’s voluptuously voiced Ethiopian princess. Aida is a role sung by the Met’s giants like Rosa Ponselle and Zinka Milanov. Blue was seriously miscast in the part. Her thin sound was unsteady and she was unable to produce a rich floating pianissimo. The paucity of applause after her two big arias was startling. The subdued audience reaction to all the opera’s big numbers was equally surprising. If this performance is typical she should rethink the future of the heavy Verdi roles in her repertoire.
Except for Quinn Kelsey as Amonasro the rest of the cast was what you would expect from an average provincial Italian opera company. Tenor SeokJong Baek had all the notes, many of which he held onto like a drowning man grasping a life preserver, but his sound is dry and unattractive. He can, however, sing softly while maintaining correct vocal posture. This ability was particularly welcome in the opera’s final scene.
Romania mezzo Judit Kutasi was effective as Amneris. She got through the Judgement Scene without mishap and deserved more than the spattering of applause that followed its conclusion. The rest of the cast, Kelsey excepted, were competent without standing out.
Yannick Nézet-Séguin led a competent effort from his outstanding musicians. He did not provide any exceptional insights to Verdi’s great score. In fact, the clear winner from last night’s performance was the composer. The breadth of his ability to command large forces while also depicting the most intimate and moving emotions is unequaled in opera. The applause that followed the Triumphal Scene was more for Verdi than for the performers.
More on this show later this month.
Jonas Kaufmann and Ludovic Tézier recorded nine tenor-baritone duets, released on a Sony Classics disc in June 2022. Insieme translates from Italian as together. The two singers are friends who have often performed together hence the title. The master of the tenor-baritone duet was Verdi. Accordingly, seven of the selections are by him.
The CD starts with the Act 4 duet from La bohème between Rodolfo and Marcello; it’s the only such duet Puccini ever wrote. He was much more interested in the interactions of his sopranos and tenors. The two men bemoan the sad state of their love life.
The second duet is from the first act of Ponchielli’s La Gioconda. The villainous Barnaba, a precursor to Iago, ostensibly offers to help the tenor, Enzo Grimaldo, elope with the wife of one of Venice’s inquisitors. When Enzo leaves Barnaba denounces him to the Inquisition.
The remaining seven duets are from Les vêpres siciliennes (2), Don Carlos, La forza del destino (3), and Otello. The Otello excerpt starts from ‘Ora per sempre addio’ and moves to ‘Era la notte’, concluding with the blood oath duet.
The level of performance is very high though some of the sheen has worn off from Kaufmann’s voice – he’s now on the downside of 50. When he sings in full voice the sound is not as rich as it was before the vocal crisis he had from a bleeding vein on one of his vocal chords in 2016. He also tends to shade his dynamic range more than is necessary. He’s very good at modulating his dynamics but does it more often than the music requires or than he did earlier in his career. Sometimes he gets close to crooning. See the example below.
Tézier has a beefy baritone which he uses to great effect. Though not as big a star as Kaufmann he’s good enough to add distinction to any performance in which he appears.
Antonio Pappano conducted the Orchestra of the Accademia di Santa Cecilia, Rome. His conducting was idiomatic and sensitive. He’s a maestro who is always aware and responsive to the singers’ needs.
Who is this disc for? If you’re a fan of Kaufmann’s singing you’ll likely want this recital. Also, it’s nice to have the great Verdi tenor-baritone duets available in one place. If you subscribe to a music streaming site like Spotify listening to this program is a no-brainer.
I wrote above that I thought Kaufmann was overusing his admitted skill at piano singing. This is mostly a matter of taste, but here’s Kaufmann singing ‘Che gelida manina’ from a 2021 performance. It’s followed by Giuseppe Di Stefano’s 1951 recording of the same aria. Di Stefano was a master of piano singing. I think Di Stefano’s soft singing is seamless and better integrated into the flow of the music. Listen to both and see if you find a meaningful difference between the two interpretations and if you agree or not with my criticism.
Kaufmann Che gelida manina
Di Stefano Che gelida manina
Verdi’s Macbeth was his 10th opera. It was his favorite of these 10 and the first of his three operas based on Shakespeare’s plays. It is clearly the masterpiece of his pre-Rigoletto works. The tenor role of Macduff is a minor part; he has little to do except sing the great aria that is the subject of this piece.
Verdi knew that the opera could never attract a star tenor, because of the brevity of the role, who could fully realize the beautiful aria he had created and said it would not make the great effect it should without a leading tenor. That problem still plagues the aria when it is part of a staged performance. On recordings, however, it is frequently sung by a leading tenor. An exception to this practice was the first run of the opera at the Met in 1959. The young Carlo Bergonzi sang Macduff.
The aria is Macduff’s lament over the murder by the Macbeths of his wife and children while he was in hiding. He vows revenge. Below are 12 recordings of the aria. The Italian text followed by an English translation is at the end of the article.
Enrico Caruso recorded the aria in 1916. His version is particularly good. His rich voice and dynamic shading realize the emotion contained in the number. It’s music that calls for finesse rather than tenorial athleticism. Caruso Ah, la paterna mano
As I mentioned above Carlo Bergonzi was the first Macduff at the Met. This recording is taken from a 1959 Met performance. The tenor was a Verdi specialist. His rendition is very good though it would get even better over the ensuing years. Bergonzi Ah, la paterna mano
Jose Carreras had one of the most beautiful lyric tenor voices of the last century until overuse and acute leukemia (from which he recovered after a bone marrow transplant) lessened his vocal power. His singing of the aria is very good. Carreras Ah, la paterna mano
Franco Corelli needs no introduction. He was one of the last century’s greatest tenors. His singing here is sensitive especially coming from a very big voice. Corelli Ah, la paterna mano
Dimitri Pittas is a lyric tenor who started out as if there was no limit to how high he could go. But while he sang at many of the world’s leading houses including the Met, his career was not what I thought he might achieve. I heard him as Nemorino in Santa Fe about 15 years ago. He was first-rate. He was Macduff in the Met’s 2008 telecast of Macbeth. Between 2005 and 2016 he sang 64 times with the company in both leading and secondary roles. He currently teaches in New York and is the Artistic Director of a company in Charleston SC. Pittas Ah, la paterna mano
Placido Domingo has recorded everything including the 1982 Mexico City telephone directory. His singing of the aria is at the highest level as expected. Domingo Ah, la paterna mano
Giuseppe Filianoti started his career as if the opera world were in his breast pocket. But after a few years, he was singing secondary roles. His website lists no performances after 2018. He did appear at the Met in 2019 in Macbeth but as Malcolm. In 2022 he was Don Basilio In Le Nozze di Figaro. His singing of the aria is from the start of his career and is very well done. Filianoti Ah, la paterna mano
The great Australian tenor Donald Smith was the subject of a previous article here. He was an outstanding singer who is not better known outside of his native country because he preferred to stay home rather than travel the world. All the major companies, including the Met, sought unsuccessfully to hire him. Smith Ah, la paterna mano
Jonas Kaufmann has been the world’s leading tenor for the past dozen years. He sings a wide variety of Italian, French, and German roles. His full throated yet nuanced reading is very effective. Kaufmann Ah, la paterna mano
Mario Del Monaco was a full fledged dramatic tenor. He was the definitive Otello of his era. This performance taken from a 1969 concert in Tokyo was relatively late in his career. Nevertheless, the huge voice is still intact. Del Monaco Ah, la paterna mano
Luciano Pavarotti would never have sung Macduff in a full performance. But as a recital piece, the aria fits his voice perfectly. Pavarotti Ah, la paterna mano
Salvatore Fisichella is a Sicilian tenor who now devotes his time to teaching. He had a superb voice that was especially noted for its acuti. Fisichella was a wonderful singer who for some opaque reason sang only five performances at the Met. Originally known as a bel canto tenor he added larger roles as his career progressed. His voice remained intact well into his 60s. This excerpt includes the duet with Malcolm and the chorus that follows the aria. Fisichella Ah, la paterna mano
MACDUFF:
O figli, o figli miei! da quel tiranno
Tutti uccisi voi foste, e insieme con voi
La madre sventurata! Ah, fra gli artigli
Di quel tigre io lasciai la madre e i figli?
Ah, la paterna mano
Non vi fu scudo, o cari,
Dai perfidi sicari
Che a morte vi ferir!
E me fuggiasco, occulto,
Voi chiamavate invano,
Coll’ultimo singulto,
Coll’ultimo respir.
Trammi al tiranno in faccia,
Signore! e s’ei mi sfugge,
Possa a colui le braccia
Del tuo perdono aprir.
MACDUFF:
Oh, my children! You have all been killed
by that tyrant, together with
your poor mother! Ah, did I
leave a mother and her children in the clutches of that beast?
Alas, a father’s hand was not there
to shield you, my dear ones,
from the treacherous assassins
who put you to death.
And in vain you called on me,
a fugitive, in hiding,
with your last gasp,
with your last breath.
Lord, bring me face to face
with this tyrant, and if he escapes me
let your merciful arms
open to him.
The Metropolitan Opera’s new staging of Verdi’s La Forza Del Destino has caused much comment about the performance of one of the composer’s great soprano roles by a singer (Lise Davidsen) best known for her performances of the heroic German roles. Many reviewers felt that her performance was an outstanding effort. Others, including me, thought that while she had a great instrument, it was not best suited for Verdi.
For the dramatic parts l heard in performance, the finest Verdi soprano was Zinka Milanov (1908-89). Her great strengths were threefold. She had the perfect timbre for Verdi. Her voice was smooth, without a hint of stridency, and was rich and lush. Second, she had the powerful high notes. required for Verdi’s depiction of moments of extreme emotional intensity. Lastly, she could float a pianissimo high note that though fully supported took on a life of its own as it seemed to come from all parts of the auditorium. I have heard many great sopranos who could sing high notes in alt with delicacy and beauty, but none who could match Milanov in this type of singing. Here she was unique. She worked very hard for a long time to reach the level of excellence that characterized her best years, which were from about age 45 to 50.
Davidsen’s voice is large and powerful. She can sing softly, but it’s not the strongest part of her vocal apparatus. She is reminiscent of Birgit Nilsson. Whether she’ll add the title role of Puccini’s Turandot to her repertory is uncertain, but it’s likely the Italian role that’s best suited for her voice.
I thought it would be of interest to compare the two singers’ rendition of the great aria ‘Pace, pace, mio Dio!’ from Forza’s final scene. I heard Milanov sing Forza in two performances in the 50s. Davidsen I have yet to hear in the theater.
Milanov: Pace, pace, mio Dio!
Davidsen: Pace, pace, mio Dio!
Verdi’s La Forza Del Destino returned to the Met this season after an absence of 18 years. It was staged in a new production supervised by the Polish director Mariusz Trelinski. He moved both the time and places from the middle of the 18th century in Spain and Italy to sometime in the second half of the 20th century in no particular country though the final scene appeared to be in a bombed-out New York City subway station.
The production is best described as an atrocity. It featured projections of all sorts of stuff ranging from spiritual to war helicopters. The opera was portrayed against a background of an unspecified conflict ending in something close to civilization’s collapse. Leonora’s father (the Marquis de Calatrava) also sang the role of Padre Guardiano who for a mysterious reason was blind in the last act. The glorious trio that closes the opera was sung by bass Soloman Howard in his Calatrava persona instead of Verdi’s setting of the piece for Padre Guardiano. The soprano and tenor parts were performed as written. Calatrava seemed to be some sort of Caudillo wearing a military uniform – the Army and country were again unspecified. Leonora seemed to be in a Freudian conflict between her father and lover. By the end of all the onstage mayhem, she was a bag lady in the subway which was even grimier than the real New York tube.
The Met unfortunately has a revolving stage. Trelinski had it moving so much that his players must have been on a max dose of Dramamine. There was so much activity going on during each bit of revolving that all that was missing were wooden horses going up and down.
Then there were the dancing bunnies – female dancers wearing white bunny masks in Act 2 and black ones in Act 3. The reason for their presence remains mysterious. This Forza differed so much from Verdi’s that the English translations of the Italian verses were altered to fit the action or censored to avoid currently unapproved words. For example, Don Carlo almost succeeds in getting Alvaro who is half Inca (mentioned only in Italian in his great third act aria) by changing “Sangue il tinge di mulatto” to describing his heritage as “tainted”. Mulatto is the same in both English and Italian. A true translation would be: “It is colored by your half-breed’s blood.” “Mulattto” could be substituted for “half-breed”.
I’ve wasted enough words on another operatic chimera. Forza works only when three or even four great voices are cast. So how was the singing? It’s hard for me to tell. The singers were all so closely miked and their sound so boosted that what was heard in the movie theater was almost certainly very different from what the in-person audience heard. Nevertheless, I’ll make my best guess as to what was going on live. Lise Davidsen’s soprano is a great instrument, almost in the same class as her fellow Norwegian Kirsten Flagsted and that of the Swedish wonder Birgit Nilsson. She’s worth a special trip to hear her perform. She was fine as Leonora (the third Verdi heroine with that name), but her voice is better suited for German opera like those of Wagner and Strauss. It has more than enough power for the explosive Verdi music, but is short on vocal velvet and the floated pianissimi that are in virtually all of Verdi’s great music for the soprano.
Tenor Brian Jagde has been singing a lot at the Met, mostly to good reviews. I’ve been put off by the harsh sound that characterizes his singing. He has all the notes, but they were not pleasant and lacked squillo. Today he sounded much better than I’ve heard him previously. He was a full-voiced spinto with ringing high notes. The audience reacted very favorably during his post-performance bows, so the better sound may have been real rather than the child of electronic manipulation. He suggested during an intermission interview that Otello was in his future. If he continues to sound as he did today, he could sing the role. This said he didn’t make much of the great Act 3 aria ‘La vita è inferno all’infelice … O tu che in seno agli angeli’ opera’s great monument to sell pity. This is one of the greatest tenor arias ever written and needs great expressive effort as well as powerful utterances. Jagde was fine but offered nothing memorable.
Don Carlo is another in a long line of great baritone parts written by Verdi who was the best friend any operatic baritone ever had. Igor Golovatenko was singing the role for the first time. He has a well formed voice that seems right for Verdi. Again fine, but not memorable.
Bass Soloman Howard, mentioned above, was adequate in his two roles melded into one. His voice is a little light for the Padre part. When not part of the action he appeared zombie-like at what Trelinski thought were critical moments in the story. I missed the significance of these apparitions.
Patrick Carfizzi was vocally at the top of his game as the annoying Fra Melitone. He was a little too angry and hostile for my taste and missed some of the comedy written into the part.
Mezzo Judit Kutasi was satisfying as the gypsy fortune teller Preziosilla. Her rendition of the Rataplan song in Act 3 gave reason for not cutting it as the Met did in the 20th century. The Met also used to scrap the scene at the Inn where the white bunnies cavorted. The rest of the cast did their best in the chaos of this benighted production.
Conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin was in better form than during the broadcast of the prima. The famous overture was played with more vigor and force today than during the first performance. His orchestra played, as usual, to perfection. They were lucky in that most of them couldn’t see the stage.
Gary Halvorson’s closeups had the value of preventing the viewer from seeing the onstage action. Virtue hides in many disguises.
In summary, a good performance of a great opera staged like a bad joke. The Met may not do Forza for another 18 years until they can afford a new production. The company has raised its top ticket to $480. You have to be crazy or a New Yorker to pay that much to see this theatrical monstrosity when you can listen to it on the radio for nothing and not have to watch it.
Leonora………Lise Davidsen
Don Alvaro………Brian Jagde
Don Carlo……..Igor Golovatenko
Preziosilla……..Judit Kutasi
Fra Melitone……..Patrick Carfizzi
Marquis de Calatrava/Padre Guardiano……..Soloman Howard
Curra………Stephanie Lauricella
Mayor………Christopher Job
Trabuco……..Carlo Bosi
Surgeon……..Paul Corona
Vendor……..Lee Steiner
Vendor……..Jeremy Little
Vendor………Ned Hanlon
Conductor……….Yannick Nézet-Séguin
Video Director………Gary Halvorson
Production……….Mariusz Trelinski
Set Designer……….Boris Kudlicka
Costume Designer……….Moritz Junge
Lighting Designer……….Marc Heinz
Lighting Designer………Bartek Macias
Lighting Designer………Macko Prusak
Last night the Met Opera presented its new production of Verdi’s La Forza Del Destino. Broadcast on its Sirius XM channel it will be telecast in HD on March 9. Staged as a vehicle for star soprano Lise Davidsen, the performance reached no higher than that encountered at a good provincial German or Italian theater. The production seems to be the latest in the Met’s attempt to annihilate the art form.
It was marred by two problems only one of which I can comment on now. The first was the lack of voices up to the standard needed to realize one of Verdi’d most difficult and inconsistent scores. Davidsen is a great singer, but her voice is made for Wagner and Strauss. It has none of the vocal velvet needed to realize Verdi’s doomed heroine. Power she has plenty, but golden tones are not in her armamentarium. This outing was her first foray into Verdi at the Met and it was not a success. She has the wrong sound and would do best to forget about Verdi. Her sound in this performance was dry and without a trace of Verdian richness.
The second problem was what sounded like another idiot staging from the Met. Since I could only listen to a description of it, I’ll wait for the telecast to dwell on it. It’s set in a modern wartorn city filled with the typical detritus of Eurotrash. When the production team took a bow after the performance there was silence.
The other singers were competent, but that’s all. Forza needs transcendence from its leads. My experience with the opera goes back to the primes of Zinkas Milanov, Richard Tucker, and Leonard Warren who set a standard that still shines like a supernova. Brian Jagde is from the Kurt Baum school of tenors. He has a gravelly unpleasant sound that hits all the notes, but which creates no excitement or charm. Igor Golovetenko gave no hint that his role was one of Verdi’s baritone gems.
Bass Soloman Howard sang both Leonora’s father and Padre Guardiano giving the already afflicted Leonora an excess of paternal fluidity.
Forza is an uneven opera with episodes of glory amid some dry spots. It needs, in addition to great voices, a conductor of vision and power. Yannick Nézet-Séguin seemed afflicted with spasms of somnolence. He slept through the famous overture, but at other times was fully awake at the baton. A strange outing for the usually reliable conductor. Perhaps he was distracted by the the extra-operatic stage business that was described the the broadcast’s announcers. When supported by the right cast and conductor this opera blazes with beauty and inspiration. When surrounded by a pedestrian production it seems endless. Most of the numbers were greeted with almost no applause. I can’t remember the last time the claque had to flog the audience so hard for so little result. They were relentless in their attempt to manufacture enthusiasm from an audience whose attention had lapsed sometime during the overture.
More to come after the upcoming telecast.
Today’s telecast of Verdi’s first masterpiece featured two of the singers who appeared the previous time Nabucco was broadcast in HD. Elijah Moshinsky’s 2001 production first appeared in the series seven years ago. Liudmyla Monastyrska was Abigaille then and now as was Dmitry Belosselskiy as Zaccaria. The title role today was performed by the Georgian bass George Gagnidze. The trio, conductor Danielle Callegari, and the remainder of the cast produced a thrilling performance.
Nabucco contains a raw energy unheard of in opera before Verdi’s appearance. His combination of melodic beauty, dramatic intensity, and insight into the core nature of humanity makes him supreme among opera composers. All of the characteristics that were molded into the masterpieces that flowed from him over his half-century career are present in Nabucco.
The work’s most difficult part is Abigaille. Ms Monastyrska was superb the last time around and was in equally fine vocal shape today. The role requires powerful high notes, large jumps in pitch, and great vocal stamina. The part was created by Giuseppina Strepponi who eventually became Verdi’s second wife. It may also have been responsible for her premature vocal decline. Monastyrska said during the intermission interview that it was one of her two favorite roles. Her voice seems to be holding its own against the strain of the part.
George Gagnidze has a fine Verdi style baritone voice. He sang with focus and sensitivity. He has a sonorous voice that lacked some heft during the more vigorous outbursts required of the Babylonian king who goes mad and loses his throne only to find religion and his crown at the opera’s conclusion.
Dmitry Belosselskiy was in much better voice today than during the first telecast of this opera. He started with a bit of a wobble but was fine thereafter. He has a lyric bass well suited for Verdi.
Tenor SeokJong Baek made his Met debut in the first performance of the current run of Nabucco. Ismaele is a small role that makes almost no demands on the singer who plays the role. Baek did well and seems to have a spinto voice that may be shown to better effect in larger roles. He’s due to sing Calaf in Turandot at the Met later this season. The listener will be able to get a better read on his potential when he’s heard in that part.
Mezzo-soprano Maria Barakova also made her Met debut as Fenena this season. She has a light mezzo that handled her undemanding part with grace.
Le Bu is a young bass-baritone who is just beginning his career. He seemed to have a formidable voice, though the High Priest’s part is so small that I can’t be certain.
As suggested above, Maestro Callegari conducted this most energetic of works with drive and elan. He got a great performance out of the Met’s superb band. His conducting was so good that the Met would be advised to give him more Verdi operas to lead.
Elijah Moshinsky’s 20+-year-old production has held up well. It is staged on a revolving platform that seamlessly lets the action flow from one scene to the next. Again, as in the last outing, the moving stage was silent and did not slow or stutter.
The opera was staged with only one intermission – between Act 2 and 3. Aside from the awesomely beautiful chorus ‘Va Pensiero’ that ends Act 3, the first half of the opera is noticeably better than the second. Callegari and his performers handled all the lyric and dramatic sequences with full artistry. They get an A. The audience, on the other hand, deserves an F. They could have been recruited from all the schools for the hearing impaired in the Greater New York area. Their response to all the great singing and playing suggested they were suffering from collective narcolepsy if their hearing were intact. They did stir a bit during the second half. The Met and it appears its audience as well, has not recovered from COVID and its attendant follies. These sequelae and the sequence of new operas with nothing to say other than virtue-signaling cliches should have been ameliorated by the appearance, at last, of a Verdi masterwork; but the damage to critical judgment may be permanent. The Met’s audience seems to be operating at the same level as its management.
Today’s telecast was directed by Habib Azar. He’s from the same school of sweaty closeups that characterizes Gary Halvorson’s work. There’s a minimum distance that should be enforced between the camera and the perspiring overweight singers pretending to be persons far younger and slimmer than an opera singer who has made it to the Met. Nevertheless, today’s outing was one of the best in the HD series. if you missed it and like Verdi, go to the encore show.
Nabucco………George Gagnidze
Abigaille………Liudmyla Monastyrska
Ismaele……….SeokJong Baek
Fenena……….Maria Barakova
Zaccaria………Dmitry Belosselskiy
Anna……….Brittany Olivia Logan
High Priest………Le Bu
Abdallo………Scott Scully
ConductorDaniele…….. Callegari
Video Director……..Habib Azar
Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra was first performed in 1857. It achieved a very modest success. Verdi thought about revising it for many years. With Arrigo Boito as his librettist, he finished a major overhaul of the work in 1881. Boito’s work on the revised libretto was a test drive for his suitability as Verdi’s collaborator on his last two operas, the Shakespeare-derived Otello and Falstaff. Obviously, Boito passed the test with honors.
Revising Boccanegra was a very hard test as despite first-rate music it has a plot that defies rational analysis. In the opera, Boccanegra is a corsair who is drafted into becoming Doge. In reality, he was an aristocrat who became Genoa’s first Doge – Simone Boccanegra (1301-63).
The most important addition in the revised version is the addition of the Council Chamber Scene. Verdi got the idea from two letters by Petrarch urging Genoa and Venice to cease fighting each other as they were sons of the same mother – Italy. In the scene, Boccanegra the Doge of Genoa, urges the patricians and plebians to cease hostilities after first urging peace with Venice. A description of the scene is below.
The Doge encourages his councilors to make peace with Venice. He is interrupted by the sounds of a mob calling for blood. Paolo (Simon’s councilor who was denied Amelia’s hand by the Doge) suspects that his kidnapping plot (Amelia was the target) has failed. Amelia is Boccanegra’s long lost daughter whose existence he has just discovered. The Doge prevents anyone from leaving the council chamber and orders the doors to be thrown open. A crowd bursts in, chasing Adorno (Amelia’s inamorata). Adorno confesses to killing Lorenzino, a plebeian, who had kidnapped Amelia, claiming to have done so at the order of a high-ranking official. Adorno incorrectly guesses the official is Boccanegra and is about to attack him when Amelia rushes in and stops him (Aria: Nell’ora soave – “At that sweet hour which invites ecstasy / I was walking alone by the sea”). She describes her abduction and escape. Before she can identify her kidnapper, fighting breaks out once more. Boccanegra establishes order and has Adorno arrested for the night (Aria: Plebe! Patrizi! Popolo! – “Plebeians! Patricians! Inheritors / Of a fierce history”). He orders the crowd to make peace and they praise his mercy. Realizing that Paolo is responsible for the kidnapping, Boccanegra places him in charge of finding the culprit. He then makes everyone, including Paolo, utter a curse on the kidnapper. Paolo is horrified at cursing himself. His reaction is much the same as Rigoletto’s response to being cursed by Monterone.
The scene is constructed so that one great moment is immediately followed by another. Its centerpiece is Simon’s great declamation, ‘Plebe! Patrizi! Popolo!’ Budden in his analysis of the opera calls it “Verdi’s finest monument to the baritone voice – a hymn to the ideal of universal brotherhood as uplifting as Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’.” This is really saying something given Verdi’s unique writing for that vocal range. The scene which began as an exciting political intrigue ends as a confrontation between good and evil. It is a high point of Verdi’s long career. He never wrote anything better
The recording of the scene below was made in 2015. It features the late and great Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostosky in the title role. This was the same year that the brain cancer which killed him in 2017 was diagnosed. I heard Hvorostovsky as the Doge in San Francisco in 2008. He was excellent, though I felt a little more vocal power would have helped. Barbara Fritoli was Amelia in that performance as she is in the recording. The baritone’s sound on the recording is a little huskier than was usual for him. For all its thematic inconsistencies, Boccanegra is a masterpiece worth visiting the theater when a first-rate cast and conductor have charge of it.
Simon Boccanegra Council Chamber Scene
Giuseppe Verdi was born October 9th (or 10th) 1813. Starting with the appearance of his third opera Nabucco in 1842 he has been the most popular of operatic composers. At first musical scholars were divided as to his artistic worth. Some thought him a popularizer who was not close to the artistic merit of Richard Wagner born the same year. The German composer’s declaration that he was creating the music of the future was taken seriously by otherwise sober observers. He stimulated a movement in art that went beyond music. Verdi on the other hand started no school and embarked on an operatic path that only he walked. He firmly believed that the only critic that counted was the audience and this critic has validated his work for nearly two centuries. Inevitably, the intellectuals were swept along by the popular tide and no serious commentator doubts Verdi’s position in art. He is to opera what Shakespeare is to the play.
His career is usually divided into thirds – the first one consisting of his initial 16 operas. While there is much interesting material in all these works only four are masterpieces. These are Nabucco, Ernani, Macbeth, and Luisa Miller.
Nabucco, his third opera and first success, shows all the characteristics from which all the subsequent great operas would be constructed. Consider the finale to Act 1 – Nabucco Act 1 finale. It demonstrates the extraordinary dramatic tension that Verdi was able to achieve to an intensity unmatched by any other composer for the lyric theater. That the same composer also possessed a melodic genius unsurpassed by any composer is a unique combination. Va Pensiero, the chorus of the Hebrew slaves in Act 3 has achieved an almost mythic status so beautiful and poignant is its expression of loss.
Verdi’s next opera I Lombardi is not on a par with its predecessor or successor Ernani. But it is worthy of an occasional revival. It does have a superb trio Qual volutta trascorrere that is often done as a concert piece. This 1912 recording features Enrico Caruso. The two interpolated high notes inserted by the tenor add to the excitement that the piece engenders in addition to its beauty.
Ernani is a glorious warmup for Il Trovatore that would appear almost a decade later. Verdi’s invention of and penchant for a new type of high baritone is demonstrated in both operas. Oh, de’ verd’anni miei is sung by Emperor Charles V just before his election is announced.
Verdi’s next masterpiece was Macbeth. Composed in 1847 it was revised in 1865. The opera is full of inspired writing. The finale of Act 1 depicts the discovery of King Duncan’s body and the horrified reaction of the Scottish court to Duncan’s murder. The duplicitous Macbeths joins in the general lamentation. Macbeth Act 1 finale Verdi’s great facility with the chorus as a dramatic instrument is fully expressed here. His version of The Sleepwalking Scene is at least equal to Shakespeare’s.
The fourth great opera of Verdi’s early period is Luisa Miller. In the Act 1 finale, the tenor Rodolfo threatens to reveal his father’s secret of how he became a count in order to save his lover Luisa and her father. The piece marks a new high in ensemble writing in which the drama is expressed without sacrificing beauty of expression.
The brilliant third act marks the transition to his middle period. The end of the final act starts with Piangi, piangi. Il tuo dolore. The emotional pallet moves from anger to remorse to resignation and finally vengeance. Note the explosion of 16 furious chords which punctuate Rodolfo’s realization of the enormity of what he’s done and what has been done to him. This is a device that Verdi uses with unequaled effectiveness when the emotional content becomes unbearable.
Verdi’s next three operas are miracles of beauty and expression. They made their composer world famous and continue to be the core of the standard operatic repertory. Rigoletto, La Traviata, and Il Trovatore contain music that is known to everyone including those who have never been or never will be in an opera house. The Quartet from Act 3 of Rigoletto is known to just about everyone and is a masterpiece of dramatic construction.
Similarly, the Anvil Chorus from Il Trovatore enjoys universal recognition. I published this aria here several times before, but Zinka Milanov’s 72-year-old recording of D’amor sull’ali rosee can’t be featured too often, so miraculous is it.
Here are the two preludes from La Traviata – Act 1 and then Act 3. They wonderfully encapsulate the fragile story. They’re part of the reason why this opera is the most often performed throughout the world. Before he had written his late masterpieces Verdi was asked what his best opera was. He said that as a musician he would say Rigoletto, but from the perspective of the audience La Traviata.
After the big three just mentioned, masterpiece followed masterpiece. I’ll just pick a few excerpts as representative of the totality of the inspired material that flowed like a monsoon from the master’s pen.
Quando al mio is a duet from I Vespri Siciliani. Monforte [baritone] reveals to Arrigo [tenor] that he is his son. Arrigo is torn three ways. First, he fears he will lose Elena [his fiance] because he promised her he would kill Monforte who now turns out to be his father. Then he doesn’t know how to treat his newfound father. And finally, he recalls how badly his mother was treated by his father. At the end of this duet, he’s an emotional chimera. The skill with which Verdi handles this situation is Olympian. The main theme first sung by the baritone and later by the tenor is part of the overture, which incidentally is probably the finest Verdi ever wrote. Equally impressive is the dramatic tension that builds throughout the duet. Verdi was the master of the tenor-baritone duet and even by his lofty standard, this number stands alone. A work of genius.
Un Ballo in Mashera is virtually a perfect opera. One of its most inspired moments comes at the end of Act 2. Riccardo has had a chaste rendezvous with Renato’s wife Amelia. They are in the midst of a passionate but unconsummated love affair. Renato shows up to warn Riccardo that conspirators, headed by the blandly named Samuel and Tom, are out to get him. His wife is veiled and Renato doesn’t recognize her. Riccardo asks him to take her back to town without obtaining her identity. He does so. They are confronted by the conspirators and Amelia removes her veil revealing that her husband has been escorting his own wife back from an assignation with another man – his best friend. Renato is horrified while the conspirators can’t contain their mirth and laugh their way through the rest of the scene while Renato seethes and vows revenge. This scene is of astonishing brilliance. There’s nothing like it in opera. Un Ballo in Maschera Act 2 finale
La Forza Del Destino was written for Russia and revised for its Italian premiere. It’s the revised version that is routinely performed. The tenor aria in Act 2 is one of the finest Verdi wrote. ‘La vita è inferno all’infelice…O tu che seno agli angeli’ requires dramatic thrust and nuanced singing. This version by Giuseppe Di Stefano meets all the aria’s demands though it’s a role the late tenor shouldn’t have sung. Taken from a live performance in Vienna the tenor is in great form even though he was well into his premature vocal decline. Di Stefano Forza
Don Carlo is one of Verdi’s grandest achievements. It explores both a dysfunctional royal family and the complex interaction between church and state. Ella gemmai m’amo is unquestionably the greatest bass opera in Italian opera. Boris Christoff’s interpretation plumbs the depth of the loneliness of the world’s most powerful ruler who can’t manage his own family. His wife doesn’t love him.
Aida is as grand as its predecessor. It’s also more popular. Its triumphal scene contains a march that is as well known as cornflakes. Verdi concludes the scene with a complex ensemble that concludes with a return to the march theme. It’s a theatric coup of genius. The Aida Act 2 finale starts with the entry of the Ethiopian prisoners.
After Aida Verdi announced his retirement. He was determined to live the life of a wealthy agrarian landowner. He interrupted his retirement to write the requiem mass to commemorate the first anniversary of the death of the novelist Alessandro Manzoni who was his literary hero. The Manzoni Mass is one of the greatest large-scale choral works. It is also the most performed. The Dies Irae section depicts the end of the world. To fully appreciate the power of this music you should hear it live before it’s too late.
Verdi at this stage (his third) was in complete control of every phase of composition. He had in the words of Benjamin Britten discovered the secret of perfection. Yet he remained silent. Finally, he was convinced by Arrigo Boito and his wife to write another opera to Boito’s libretto. Otello, given his passion for Shakespeare, proved irresistible. The opera is one of Western music’s greatest achievements. The conclusion of Act 3 is the scene in which Iago has driven Otello mad with jealousy to the point where he calls his wife a whore and then collapses insensate as Iago gloats over his success at manipulating the Moor. Otello Act 3 finale
Verdi’s final opera was written when he was almost 80, also to a Shakespeare-derived libretto by Boito. Falstaff is based on The Merry Wives of Windsor with excerpts from Henry IV. It’s a comedy. He said he had created enough operatic mayhem over the long decades of his operatic life. Verdi who had always made fun of learned composers, said he was experienced but not learned, concluded the opera and his career with the most learned of musical forms – a fugue to the word “All the world’s a joke.” Toscanini’s rendition of Tutto nel mondo e burla is appropriately muscular. It is to the conductor that we owe Falstaff’s survival. So quick and intricate are its melodies and construction that audiences were initially baffled by it. Toscanini kept programming it and eventually audiences caught up to the octagenarian composer. Today Falstaff is a regular part of the standard repertory.
In my opinion, Verdi stands at the summit of Italian art. A vantage point shared only with Dante and Michelangelo.
Verdi’s 14th opera is rarely done. Ten years ago, I reviewed Parma’s DVD of the work published as part of its cycle of all the composer’s operas. The Met has never done Battaglia while La Scala has only mounted it twice – in 1916 and in 1961. The latter show had an all-star cast with Antonietta Stella, Franco Corelli, and Ettore Bastianini in the leading roles. Gianandrea Gavazzeni conducted. Fortunately, it was recorded. Despite its neglect, the opera has interesting moments though it seems to be of more interest to musicologists than to audiences.
It’s a pièce d’occasion that was spawned in reaction to the Italian struggle to be free of Austrian domination in the north of the peninsula. The defeat of Frederick Barbarossa by the Lombard League in 1176 was used as a surrogate for the 19th century fight by Italians against another Germanic state. Any opera that proclaims “Viva Italia” more than once was bound to ignite the Roman audience at its first performance in 1849. Though its first run was successful, it drifted out of the repertoire into its current state of oblivion. It’s almost certain to remain there, but anything by Verdi is worth attention. The excerpts that follow are taken from the 1961 performance mentioned above. A synopsis of the story is at the very end of this article.
The opera’s overture is a fine one that surprisingly is not performed as a concert piece. It makes extensive use of the theme that is associated with the Lombard League throughout the work.
Arrigo, the tenor, appears in Milan as the Lombard League is about to fight the Germans. Thought dead from action in an earlier battle everyone is surprised to see him. The rest of the story makes sense only if he’s been away for a short while; but as his absence has been long enough for his lover Lida to marry his best friend Rolando and have a child who’s at least four years old, there’s a plot hole big enough for the entire Lombard League to march through it. In La pia materna mano Arrigo (Corelli) describes how his mother nursed him back to health after he was left for dead on the battlefield. His years long convalescence is a 12th century record. When Rolando (Bastianini) sees him he expresses his pleasure in a short aria – Ah m’abbraccia d’esultanza.
In scene 2 Lida (Stella) expresses her unhappiness over the loss of Arrigo but motherhood and duty compel her to keep a stiff upper lip – Quante Vole come un done. When she learns Arrigo is alive she displays her joy in the cabaletta A frentari o cor nel petto. It’s restrained as cabelettas go befitting her status as a married woman and a mother. After Rolando is called away, Arrigo berates Lida for her faithlessness in not waiting for him. How many years was she to remain celibate? E ver? sei d’altri? She can’t satisfy him and he rushes away determined to die in battle. In truth, he’s an hysterical jerk. The duet marks Verdi’s first departure from the standard duet format used by Donizetti and Bellini. It’s entirely built around the action it depicts.
The finale of Act 2 is set in Como where Barbarossa is encamped. It’s the first time Verdi had composed a finale of this magnitude without a female voice. It’s appropriately vigorous as it’s a prelude to war. Act 2 finale
Act 3 scene 1 is set in a subterranean vault. Arrigo joins the Knights of Death. The chorus Giuriam d’Italia por fine ai danni that welcomes him to the order is appropriately grave and somber.
The second scene is in Roland’s castle. He bids farewell to Lida and asks her to raise their son to love their country and remind him that he is Italian. The duet is a lovely piece of gentle emotion. Digli ch’è sangue italico. Arrigo arrives and Rolando asks him to care for his family should he (Rolando) fall in battle – Se al nuovo di pugnando. He’s unaware that Arrigo has joined the Knights of Death.
The final scene of the act contains one of my favorite moments in opera. Rolando has discovered the past relationship of his wife and Arrigo. He thinks it resumed and suspects the worst. He also now knows that Arrigo has joined the Knights of Death. To punish Arrigo he locks him in a room with Lida so he can’t fight with the Knights. What does the ardent lover do? He’s alone with the love of his life and chooses to jump out the window of a high tower into a moat so he can join the battle where he’s mortally wounded. His dive into the moat left him unscathed. Act 3 finale
Act 4 is very short. Barbarossa has been defeated. The Lombards return victorious. Everybody forgives everybody else. Arrigo with his last breath proclaims Italy saved – curtain. Act 4 finale
Verdi composed 15 operas before Rigoletto – Battaglia is not one of them. But even on an off day, Verdi could come up with interesting material. Battaglia has its moments and on the unlikely chance that a performance was nearby, I’d recommend you attend.
Act 1 – “He is Alive!”Scene 1: Milan, not far from the city walls
Outside the city walls, people have gathered in support of the Lombard League whose troops are about to go into battle against the occupying German Emperor Federico Barbarossa. Among them is Arrigo, a young soldier whom all had thought dead, but he has now re-joined the army and he recounts how his mother had nursed his wounds after he was left for dead. Having recovered and before leaving again, he wants to see Lida, his sweetheart. Rolando, Arrigo’s friend and leader of the troops from Milan, arrives and he is amazed to see Arrigo alive. Joyously, he embraces his friend. The gathered troops and the consuls of Milan all swear to defend the city against tyranny.
Scene 2: Beside the ramparts of the city
Rolando’s wife Lida, who has lost her parents and brothers and who is downcast at the prospect of further war, also mourns the loss of her former love, Arrigo. She is unable to share in the general excitement of the upcoming battles. A German prisoner, Marcovaldo, who has been given some degree of freedom by Rolando, declares his love for Lida, but she is outraged and refuses him.
As Rolando returns home, bringing with him Arrigo, Lida is angry When Arrigo arrives, he is clearly upset to see Lida married to his best friend. But with Rolando suddenly called away to the Senate by the news that Barbarossa’s troops are on the move, Arrigo and Lida are left alone. She tries to explain that her father encouraged her to marry Rolando after all believed that Arrigo had been killed in battle. But Arrigo will not listen and does not believe her. He declares her a “faithless one”, and hurries away, wishing only to die in the forthcoming battle.
Act 2 – “Barbarossa!”The town hall of Como
The city fathers of Como have gathered to await the arrival of Rolando and Arrigo as ambassadors of the League from Milan. Como has been forced to come to terms with the invaders, and when the two men arrive, they announce that a new army has invaded from the north, that Barbarossa is having problems in Padua, and they seek Como’s help, pointing out that the city lies between Milan and the invaders. They hope that Como will intervene to help the Italian cause. Suddenly, Barbarossa himself appears, proclaiming that “I am Italy’s great destiny”. His troops have surrounded Como and now further threaten Milan. He demands that Arrigo and Rolando return to Milan and seek its submission.
Act 3 – “Infamy!”Scene 1: The Basilica of Sant’ Ambrogio
In the subterranean vaults of the Basilica, Arrigo is inducted into the Knights of Death, warriors who have pledged to fight to the death rather than suffer defeat or imprisonment. All unite to swear an oath to support the cause of Italy and to drive the foreign forces back across the Alps.
Scene 2: Rolando’s castle
Lida has heard that Arrigo has joined the Knights of Death, and desperately tries to contact him via a note to be conveyed by her maid, Imelda. As Imelda is about to leave, Rolando suddenly enters to say farewell to Lida and to their son, whom he has brought to him. Imelda hides the note, then quickly leaves. Rolando tells Lida to convey his love of country to their son, and to bring the boy up to love the fatherland.
Arrigo enters, summoned by Rolando, who does not know that his friend has joined the Knights of Death. Thinking that Arrigo has been ordered to remain to guard Milan, Rolando begs him to take care of his wife and son in the event of his death (Se al nuovo dì pugnando /”If when we fight on the morrow”). The two men part company, Rolando moved by grief, Arrigo with embarrassment. Just as Rolando is about to leave, Marcovaldo delays him, telling him that his honor has been betrayed and presents him with Lida’s note to Arrigo, which he has intercepted. Rolando is enraged and proclaims that he will obtain double vengeance on his wife and his friend .
Scene 3: A room in the tower
Having received no response to her note, Lida goes to see Arrigo in his room in the tower, where he is writing a farewell letter to his mother. Although they declare their love for each other, he tells her that he has not received any note. Lida tries to persuade him to abandon his suicidal quest while he distraughtly recounts his dismay at finding her married. Finally, Lida says that they must separate for the sake of her husband and child. Then Rolando is heard at the door and, before he enters, Lida hides on the balcony.
Rolando confronts Arrigo, telling him that he now knows about his vow to the Knights of Death and encourages him to depart. Then he opens the balcony door and discovers Lida. Rolando is in a rage while Arrigo confesses his love for Lida but asks for death. Lida then declares that she is the guilty one. Still raging, Rolando storms out to lead the Milanese troops into battle, but as he leaves, he locks the tower door on Arrigo and Lida, declaring that Arrigo will suffer a fate worse than death: the infamy of being absent from the battle in which he had promised to fight, and so will lose his honor. As trumpets signal the beginning of the battle, Arrigo, in desperation, leaps from the tower into the moat, shouting “Long Live Italy!”. Lida remains in anguish.
Act 4 – “To Die For the Fatherland!”A square in Milan
The assembled people sing a prayer for victory. Imelda assures Lida that Arrigo survived his leap from the tower and Lida prays for the safety of both Arrigo and her husband. As the people begin a hymn of victory, city officials enter the church to confirm the defeat of Barbarossa’s troops by the Lombard League, declaring that Barbarossa was wounded by Arrigo. But, in the middle of the victory celebrations, a group of Knights of Death enter bearing the mortally wounded Arrigo. Rolando receives Arrigo’s assurance that Lida is innocent and that she had always acted honorably. Reconciling with Lida, he forgives Arrigo, who with his last breath, proclaims that “Italy is saved!”
“On The Knocking at the Gate” (1823) is the title of a celebrated essay (it’s below) by Thomas De Quincy (1785-1859) about an event that happens in Act 2 scene 2 of Macbeth. The Macbeths have just murdered King Duncan. Macbeth is horrified by what he has done, his wife less so. Lady Macbeth takes the daggers which he has neglected to leave at the scene of the crime to “gild the faces of the grooms” so as to make them seem responsible for the murder. She leaves and a knocking is heard. She returns and more knocking is heard. Just before the scene ends still more knocking. The next scene moves to the drunken Porter complaining about the knocking. After a succession of knockings at the gate he opens it and admits Macduff and Lennox.
De Quincy essay refers to two groups of murders (The Ratcliff Highway murders of 1812) allegedly committed by John Williams which was said to include a knocking at the door which made him think about Shakespeare’s knocking. He considers the murderer’s feelings during the commission of his awful deed.
But in the murderer, such a murderer as a poet will condescend to, there must be raging some great storm of passion jealousy, ambition, vengeance, hatred which will create a hell within him; and into this hell we are to look.
We were to be made to feel that the human nature, i.e., the divine nature of love and mercy, spread through the hearts of all creatures, and seldom utterly withdrawn from man was gone, vanished, extinct? and that the fiendish nature had taken its place.
Hence it is, that, when the deed is done, when the work of darkness is perfect, then the world of darkness passes away like a pageantry in the clouds: the knocking at the gate is heard; and it makes known audibly that the reaction has commenced: the human has made its reflux upon the fiendish; the pulses of life are beginning to beat again; and the re-establishment of the goings-on of the world in which we live, first makes us profoundly sensible of the awful parenthesis that had suspended them.
To De Quincy, the knocking signifies the return from the dark world of evil to normality. He provides an explanation for the knocking that ends the murder scene and the mundane knocking that irritates the Porter, in the following scene, that goes beyond the matter of fact. His insight into the dramaturgy is believed to be the first, or one of the first, psychological interpretations of Shakespeare’s unique depiction of human behavior and motivations.
Now consider Verdi’s use of the knocking after Duncan’s murder. The knocking occurs just twice, first in triplicate and then in two pairs. They initiate the end of the first act rather than being in the second as in the play. There is no scene with the Porter who does not appear in the opera. Thus, there is no explanation for the knocking other than its dramatic effect as there is no one at the gate. Banquo and Macduff enter after the Macbeths have left. The former discovers Duncan’s corpse. The Macbeths return and feign horror at the bloody deed along with the chorus. The act ends in a glorious ensemble which captures the impact of the murder on the Scottish court and the cynicism of the evil duo responsible for the crime. Here the knocking is not a relief from murder, but rather an awful comment on it. Its effect is like a sledgehammer of doom. Too bad De Quincy never commented on the opera. He lived long enough to have attended a performance of the first version of the opera which like the second depicts the knocking.
The knocking and the finale to Act 1 powerfully conducted by Riccardo Muti are linked below. The pertinent text follows the link.
Macbeth Knocking at the gate and Act1 finale
LADY MACBETH
His spirit is trembling, struggling and raving.
Who would ever call him the unconquered man he was?
Take the knife back there.
Smear his guards with blood
so that they will be accused.
MACBETH
I go there? I cannot go back in!
LADY MACBETH
Give me the knife.
She takes the knife from Macbeth’s hands and goes into the King’s chambers. There is loud knocking at the castle gate.
MACBETH
Every noise alarms me!
Oh, this hand!
The ocean could not
wash my hands clean!
LADY MACBETH
returning
See! My hands are stained too.
A sprinkle of water and they will be c1ean again.
The deed too will pass into oblivion.
There is more knocking
MACBETH
Do you hear? They’re knocking louder.
LADY MACBETH
Come away! We must remove
all suspicion from the murderer.
Be yourself, Macbeth. Have courage!
Don’t be defeated by fear.
MACBETH
Oh, if only I could wipe my crime
from my mind!
O murdered King, if only I could
rouse you from your deep sleep.
*Lady Macbeth drags him off.
Macduff and Banquo.*
MACDUFF
The King ordered me to waken him early,
and it is already late.
Wait here for me, Banquo.
He goes into the King’s chamber.
BANQUO
Oh what an awful night!
Mourning voices were heard
in the blind air, voices of death.
The bird of ill omen moaned gloomily
and the earth was felt to shake.
MACDUFF
coming back appalled
Horror! Horror! Horror!
BANQUO
What has happened?
MACDUFF
In there,
see for yourself.
I cannot say it!
Banquo rushes into the King’s chamber
Hurry! Ho there!
Everyone come here!
Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, her Gentlewoman, Malcolm and servants all enter.
Murder! Murder!
Treason!
MACBETH and LADY MACBETH
What sudden confusion!
BANQUO
coming back, stunned
We are lost!
ALL
What is it? Speak!
What has happened?
BANQUO
King Duncan has been murdered!
ALL
Open your mouth, hell
and swallow all creation in your womb.
Heaven, let your flames fall
on the unknown, detestable murderer.
God, you can look into our hearts,
aid us, we trust in you alone.
We look to you for light and counsel
to tear through the veil of darkness.
Deadly castigator let your formidable,
ready anger take the villain
and mark his head as you marked
that of the first murderer.
De Quincy On the Knocking at the GateDownload
Verdi’s last opera Falstaff, written when he was almost 80, is opera’s greatest sport. It is unlike anything else by the composer or by anyone else, for that matter. Verdi had written all his previous with the expectation of pleasing his audiences while observing the highest artistic standards. But near the end of his life, rich, famous, and revered he decided to write one opera just for himself. Falstaff moves with the speed of a diving falcon. With one exception, it has none of the great set pieces that characterized all of Verdi’s previous works. It is this exception that is the subject of this article.
‘È sogno o realtà?’ occurs in un Act 2 scene 1. In a comedy that sparkles with wit, this monologue is darkly serious. It harkens back to the Verdi who wrote Rigoletto. Stylistically, it is in the same manner of ‘Pari siamo’ from that opera’s Act 1 scene 2. Here is the late Dmitri Hvorostovsky singing the aria. Hvorostovsky Pari siamo.
The differences between the two monologues, separated by more than 40 years, are that Rigoletto is a tragic opera while Falstaff is a broad comedy and that the older aria is sung by the title character. It’s the second baritone (Ford) who sings ‘È sogno’. If he’s good enough, he can steal the show from Falstaff. Such grand larceny happened at the Metropolitan Opera almost a century ago.
Ford is deadly serious at this juncture in the opera. He is convinced that his wife is about to make a cuckhold of him. This is no longer a comedy – at least for Ford. The only difference between the Verdi of 40 years earlier and the composer of Falstaff is that he does not allow a pause in the action such that the audience can applaud. Otherwise, the music is what you would expect from the composer of some of the greatest dramatic baritone parts in opera.
In 1925, the young American baritone, Lawrence Tibbett (1896-1960), who was only in his second season at the Met and who had never sung a role bigger than Valentin in Faust with the company was Ford opposite the Falstaff of Antonio Scotti (1866-1936). Tibbett was so good that the audience demanded he take a solo bow before they would allow the show to continue. Scotti was one of the Met’s greatest baritones. He sang with the company from 1899 to 1933. During that span he appeared in 1213 performances, the most by a leading singer of any vocal type in Met history. He was also a very generous colleague. He allowed Tibbett to sing 21 more performances as Ford with him (Scotti) in the title role. When Leonard Warren came along, Tibbett had moved up to the title role. He refused to appear with Warren saying: “I’m not going to allow him to do to me what I did to Scotti.”
Below is a photo with the two baritones shaking hands after Scotti’s farewell performance at the Met. Below the photo is an excerpt from Olin Downes review of Falstaff detailing Tibbett’s triumph as Ford. As you can see they both seem very friendly. The cigarette in Scotti mouth may explain why his retirement was brief. He died three years later.
Review from The New York Times, 1/3/1925:
AMERICAN BARITONE STIRS OPERA HOUSE
Unprecedented Scene When Lawrence Tibbett Fails to Realize He’s Made a Hit.Gets Roars of Applause
“Falstaff” Audience Demands His Appearance After His Bow With Scotti, Singing Title Role.
By Olin Downes.
The revival of Verdi’s “Falstaff,” last night in the Metropolitan Opera House, occasioned considerable excitement and was quite without precedent in the annals of the organization. The evening also produced the most brilliant performance that has been given in the opera house this season.
The Falstaff was Antonio Scotti, whose art requires no description or laurels today. The Ford was the young American Lawrence Tibbett, who last season became a member of the Metropolitan Opera Company, and who has since advanced very rapidly as a singer and dramatic interpreter. At the end of the second act comes the scene between Ford and Falstaff, in which Ford becomes convinced that his spouse is actually plotting infidelity, and alone on stage, intones his monologue of suspicion and jealousy, “E sogno.”
This scene Mr. Tibbett delivered with a quality of vocalism and interpretation which constituted one of the highest points, and one of the strongest individual performances of the evening. As the curtain fell the house burst into prolonged applause. In response to the applause, which kept up and increased in volume for many minutes, various of the principals appeared. Then Mr. Tibbett and Mr. Scotti appeared together and received ovations.
Audience Demands Tibbett Alone.
At last it was evident that the audience wished Mr. Tibbett and none other for its attentions. But this singer did not come before the curtain alone.
The commotion in the theatre increased. Some began to stamp, whistle and catcall. Cries of “Tibbett” came from various parts of the house. There was no response. For a while no one appeared before the curtain; the lights were lowered and Mr. Serafin, the conductor, raised his baton for the next scene to begin.
He found it impossible to proceed. Pandemonium grew. Even the elect in the boxes began to take more than a polite interest in the proceedings. The audience, justly or unjustly, had gained the impression that Mr. Tibbett was not allowed to come before them and receive their appreciation and had determined that the performance should go further until he had done so.
It was Mr. Serafin who ended the business. He sent one of the orchestra players backstage to request that Mr. Tibbett be allowed to appear. The curtains parted, the young singer stepped to the front of the stage, bowed low and repeatedly to the excited assembly, and the performance proceeded. An American audience had decided that one of its own nationality should be properly recognized for his talent, and that ended the incident.
The text of the monologue is below followed by and English translation. Boito’s archaic Italian is hard to translate. I’ve done the best I can to make some, but not all, of the obscure words recognizable in English.
I’ll, start with Tibbett’s famous rendition. It’s very good and one can easily understand why the Met’s audience was so impressed. Tibbett È sogno
Next Leonard Warren’s (1911-60) interpretation of the monologue. It’s also very god. One can also understand why Tibbett didn’t want to appear with him. Warren never did sing Ford at the Met. He did sing Falstaff with the company. Warren È sogno
Robert Merrill (1917-2004) had the perfect voice for Ford, but while he recorded the role, he never sang it onstage. His Ford from the complete recording of the opera under Georg Solti’s direction is wonderful. Merrill È sogno
George London (1920-85) was Scarpia in Tosca at the first performance I ever heard at the old Met. He was far and away the best performer of the evening. He was outstanding at everything he did – a true artist. I’m pretty sure he never sang Ford, but his recording of the aria is among the best extant. His career was cut short by vocal cord paralysis and his life by cardiovascular disease. London È sogno
Renato Capecchi ((1923-98) was an Italian baritone and opera director. He sang leading roles at the Met from 1951 to 1954. He then left the company until 1975 whereupon he sang frequently until 1994. During this second phase of his New York career he specialized in smaller roles alongside the leading roles in comic operas like Don Pasquale and The Barber. All told, he appeared 305 times at the Met. His rendition of the monologue is very effective. The Italian audience tries to applaud, but the flow of the music stiffles their efforts. Capecchi È sogno
Leo Nucci (b 1942) started out as a chorister at La Scala. He moved up to leading baritone roles a few years later. He has sung at every major house in the world. He was singing leading Verdi roles with major companies well into his 70s. Nucci È sogno
Sir Simon Keenlyside (b 1959) is a great baritone with an exceptional stage presence. This excerpt is taken from a 2018 run of the opera at the Royal Opera House in which Keenlyside was Ford opposite Bryn Terfel’s Falstaff. By comparison to some other Fords presented here, his performance is on the mild side. Nicola Luisotti’s orchestra is a bit overpowering. Keenlyside È sogno
Ludovic Tézier (b 1968) has sung at many of the world’s leading houses. He has appeared 34 times at the Met, but nothing since 2011. He was Marcello in an HD telecast of La Bohème and and Enrico in an HD Lucia. Both times I thought him ready for some of the big Verdi roles which he has performed in Europe. It appears that his Met days are over. His singing here is quite good, though a darker tone would have helped. Tézier È sogno
Quinn Kelsey (b 1978) is an American baritone who has recently assumed the big Verdi roles. I heard him as Rigoletto in Santa Fe. He was fully up to the great challenge of Verdi’s buffone. His singing of the great monologue is on the mark. Kelsey È sogno
È sogno o realtà?… Due rami enormi
Crescon sulla mia testa.
E’ un sogno? Mastro Ford!
Mastro Ford! Dormi?
Svegliati! Su! Ti desta!
Tua moglie sgarra
e mette in mal assetto
L’onore tuo, la casa ed il tuo letto!
L’ora é fissata, tramato l’inganno;
Sei gabbato e truffato!…
E poi diranno
Che un marito geloso é un insensato!
Già dietro a me nomi d’infame conio
Fischian passando;
mormora lo scherno.
O matrimonio, inferno!
Donna: Demonio!
Nella lor moglie abbian fede i babbei!
Affiderei
La mia birra a un Tedesco,
Tutto il mio desco
A un Olandese lurco,
La mia bottiglia di acquavite
a un Turco,
Non mia moglie a se stessa.
O laida sorte!
Quella brutta parola in cor mi torna:
Le corna! Bue! Capron! le fusa torte!
Ah! le corna! le corna!
Ma non mi sfuggirai! no! sozzo, reo,
Dannato epicureo!
Prima li accoppio
E poi lo colgo. Io scoppio!
Vendicherï l’affronto!
Laudata sempre sia
Nel fondo del mio cor la gelosia.
Is it dream or reality? … Two huge branches
Are spouting on my head.
Is it a dream? Master Ford!
Master Ford! Are you asleep?
Wake up! On! It awakens you!
Your wife sins
and puts up badly
Your honor, your home and your bed!
The hour is fixed, the deception is plotted;
You’re fooled and cheated! …
And then they will say
That a jealous husband is a fool!
Already behind me names of infamous coinage
Whistling;
the murmurs of mockery.
O marriage, hell!
Woman: Demon!
The suckers have faith in their wives!
I would trust
My beer to a German,
All my table
To a dirty Dutchman,
My bottle of brandy
to a Turk,
Not my wife to herself.
Or bad luck!
That ugly word in my heart comes back to me:
The horns! Ox! Capron! purred cakes!
Ah! the horns! the horns!
But you will not escape me! no! dirty, guilty,
Damned epicure!
First I’ll match them
And then I take it. I burst!
I will avenge the affront!
Praised always be
In the depths of my heart, jealousy.
Robert Carsen’s production of Verdi’s valedictory masterpiece Falstaff was first telecast by the Met in December 2013. It returned today with a new cast. Verdi’s last work for the stage is an operatic sport. There is no work in the canon like it. Its melodic fecundity, mercury-like pace, vocal ingenuity, and its deep insight into human behavior make it unique. Verdi’s other operas are lush and couched in primary colors. Falstaff is made of icy steel and needs a razor’s edge to make its impact.
Carsen chose to set the action in 1950 instead of Elizabethan England. This unnecessary temporal shift did not detract from the show save that it deprived Falstaff of the outrageous outfit he typically wears when he sets out with Ford, disguised as Fontana, to woo Alicia in Act 2. In this production he wears red hunting apparel.
The renowned German baritone Michael Volle portrayed the titular aging knight with ample voice and a gentle mien. The 63 year old baritone’s voice is still strong and up to any vocal challenge. If Ambrogio Maestri’s impersonation of Shakespeare/Verdi’s archetypical comic hero is not imbedded in your memory, Volle’s interpretation would seem quite good. Though comparisons can be unfair, Volle’s depiction alongside that of his Italian colleague seems a sketch. Falstaff says that it is he who drives the action of all around him. So it was in this performance which, like its protagonist, was good without being memorable.
Falstaff is an ensemble opera; each of it roles has substance and accordingly requires considerable musical and dramatic quality from its protagonists. The two Windsor wives – Ailyn Pérez as Alicia and Jennifer Johnson Cano as Meg were fine, though Ms Pérez’s sound was a little shrill in Act 1.
Dame Quickly is a great character role for a mezzo. Marie-Nicole Lemieux camped the role a little more than I cared for, though the audience seemed taken by her performance. She seemed to me more interested in show than depth of character.
Christopher Maltman was Ford, one of opera’s juiciest secondary baritone roles. ‘È sogno o realtà?’, Ford’ monologue in Act 2 drops all comedic trappings and lets Verdi, just for a few minutes, be the composer of Rigoletto. Maltman sang the aria well save a few strained top notes. This is such a powerful number that the baritone who sings it can steal the show from Falstaff as Lawrence Tibbett did to Antonio Scotti almost a century ago.
The two lovers, Fenton and Nannetta were very well sung by tenor Bogdan Volkov and soprano Hera Hyesang Park. Both were particularly effective in the opera’s last scene. Volkov has a firm lyric tenor that he used with grace in a part that is very hard to fully realize. Park’s voice is lovely and was particularly fine when she was pretending to be the Fairy Queen.
Chauncey Packer and Richard Bernstein were appropriately antic as Falstaff’s longtime sidekicks, though they were too young to have been with the fat knight for 30 years as specified by Falstaff himself.
Falstaff is a conductor’s opera. The intricate ensemble passages for as many as nine voices did not come off with the elan that is built into them. Maestro Daniele Rustioni got the usual fine playing from the Met’s orchestra, but the excitement and force that is built into the score were not fully realized. Still a good go at a great opera.
The video director was Habib Azar. I think this was the first telecast from the Met directed by him. His work was unobtrusive, which means it was very good. He’s not given to microscopic closeups.
In summary, this was a good performance of an opera that requires a lot from cast and conductor. It’s a work that gains from frequent hearings as Verdi put so much into it that only repeated exposure uncovers all its wonderful inventions. Good enough to warrant a visit to the encore broadcast if you missed the live performance.
Metropolitan Opera House
April 1, 2023
*FALSTAFF*
Giuseppe Verdi–Arrigo Boito
Sir John Falstaff…….Michael Volle
Alice Ford…………..Ailyn Pérez
Ford………………..Christopher Maltman
Dame Quickly…………Marie-Nicole Lemieux
Nannetta…………….Hera Hyesang Park
Fenton………………Bogdan Volkov
Meg Page…………….Jennifer Johnson Cano
Dr. Caius……………Carlo Bosi
Bardolfo…………….Chauncey Packer
Pistola……………..Richard Bernstein
Conductor……………Daniele Rustioni
Production…………..Robert Carsen
Set Designer…………Paul Steinberg
Costume Designer……..Brigitte Reiffenstuel
Lighting Designer…….Robert Carsen
Lighting Designer…….Peter Van Praet
Stage Director……….Gina Lapinski
Video Director………..Habib Azar
Verdi’s requiem mass written to commemorate the first year anniversary of the death of the novelist Alessandro Manzoni is one of the peaks of Western Civilization. The video below was made more than forty years ago. It features Sopranos Jessye Norman and Margaret Price, tenor Jose Carreras, and bass Ruggero Raimondi. The London Symphony Orchestra and and Edinburgh Festival Chorus were under the direction of Claudio Abbado. Price was a renowned Verdi soprano who sang the mezzo part during this outing.
The performance is outstanding, rising to the standard set by Arturo Toscanini and Georg Solti. Luckily, it was preserved in pristine condition. All concerned were at the top of their game.
If you do a search for universal genius a variety of definitions will appear. Often they equate the term with polymath. Polymaths are quite numerous, though a very small proportion of the total population. The definition used here is a person whose accomplishment is either so far above any other person of genius in the same field or one whose mastery of different fields is so extraordinary as to set him apart from everyone else who labored in the same arena. He has an impact that goes beyond his field and which touches the entire world.
My selections are quite arbitrary and represent nothing more than a personal opinion. Feel free to disagree and to amend the list or offer a completely different one. The subjects are listed by year of birth as there is no order among great masters.
I will not give much biographical information as so much of it is readily available. My purpose is to delineate why I think each of the men discussed here deserves the appellation of the title of this piece. I use the currently unpopular masculine noun as I can think of no woman, transgender or otherwise, who meets the requirement for this rare class of humans. There are many female geniuses and polymaths, but no universal genius.
If Aristotle (384–322 BC) is not a universal genius, then no one is. In just 62 years he touched on virtually every subject of thought. His writings cover many topics, including physics, biology, metaphysics, logic, ethics, aesthetics, poetry, theatre, music, rhetoric, psychology, linguistics, economics, politics, meteorology, geology, and government. Even more amazing is that two thirds of his writings are lost. So great was his influence that it took two millennia to catch up to him. It matters little that much of his speculations were wrong. He went further than any other thinker could go based on the state of knowledge available during his lifetime. A lot of his ideas turned out to be correct. He has been called the father of logic, biology, political science, zoology, embryology, natural law, scientific method, rhetoric, psychology, realism, criticism, individualism, teleology, and meteorology. Even in the 21st century one cannot delve into virtually any area of thought without confronting Aristotle. He sets the standard for the universal genius.
Archimedes (287-212 BC) was a Sicilian Greek who was born and died in Sicily. His achievements as mathematician, physicist, engineer, astronomer, and inventor are without parallel until Newton arrived. He anticipated calculus by combining the method of exhaustion with with a concept of the indivisibles to solve several problems now handled by integral calculus. He determined that an object displaced it volume when placed in water. By combining its weight and volume, density could measured. This allowed, among other uses, to tell if coins had been cheapened by adding a lesser metal. An example would be a supposedly pure gold coin partly made of silver. His engineering accomplishments are breathtaking. His combination of mathematical, theoretical, and applied physics and engineering is unsurpassed. An epochal figure.
Abu Rayhan Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-Biruni (973-c1050), usually known as al-Biruni was an Iranian scholar. He was a physicist, mathematician, astronomer, chronologist, linguist, geographer, a student of geodesy, and a natural scientist. He wrote a pharmacopeia and used a hydrostatic balance to determine the density and purity of metals and precious stones As a philosopher he made great use of his Greek forbearers. He was fluent in Khwarezmian, Persian, Arabic, Sanskrit, Greek, Hebrew, and Syriac. In 1017 he travelled to India. The journey led to his History of India that described Indian culture, language, and religion. He was the author of 145 books. He even pointed out logical errors Aristotle had made. His extraordinary knowledge of this vast array of subjects earned him the title of The Master.
Dante Alighieri (c 1265-1321) is the founder of the Italian language. His Divine Comedy was written in the Florentine dialect rather than the customary Latin. This dialect eventually became Italian which is why the dialect of his native Florence differs only slightly from standard Italian. The ultimate compliment to a speaker’s Italian pronunciation is to say he sounds like a Florentine. Dante’s long poem takes place in Hell (Inferno), Purgatory (Purgatorio), and Heaven (Paradiso); it is considered by virtually all scholars of Italian literature to be the language’s greatest work. Dante’s influence went beyond Italy to include all of Western Europe. Chaucer and Milton were greatly influenced by him.
Leonardo Da Vinci (1452-1519) was the archetypal Renaissance Man. He was a painter, draughtsman, engineer, scientist, theorist, sculptor, and architect. His notebooks showed his deep interest in anatomy, astronomy, botany, cartography, painting, and paleontology. His thinking was so original and rapid that he left much of his greatest works unfinished. When he depicted the Last Supper on a wall in Milan he used an untested fresco technique of his own invention that turned out to be inferior to the standard then used. This technique explains why the frescoe soon began to deteriorate and had to be repaired. There has never been anyone like him except for the younger guy down the street.
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni (1475-1564) was an artist of awe inspiring breadth and depth. He was a sculptor, painter, architect, and poet. Every one of his contemporaries acknowledged his artistic superiority. He considered himself a sculptor, but his frescoes in the Sistine Chapel both the ceiling and behind the altar are the wonders of the world. As an architect he designed the Laurentian Library and the dome of Saint Peter’s Basilica. A poet, he wrote over 300 sonnets and madrigals. His name, Michelangelo, is synonymous with art in excelsis. He was productive to the end of his long life.
William Shakespeare (1554-1616) dominantes literature the world over. His 39 plays,154 sonnets, and three long narrative poems were written in a span of less than 25 years. His achievement is so remarkable that many have ascribed it to someone else. If someone else had written the world’s greatest plays and poems the achievement would be no less amazing. Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare’s plays and the result is beyond comprehension. The beauty of his language and his depiction of humanity in all its glory and wickedness as well as every characteristic in between is miraculous irrespective of attribution.
Isaac Newton (1643-1727) was arguably the greatest scientist and mathematician since the exit from Eden. He was also the strangest (perhaps second to Paul Dirac) and likely the nastiest as well. He was a heretic who did not believe in the Trinity. He engaged in a vicious priority dispute with Leibniz as to who first invented the calculus. His Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica is a scientific landmark without equal. The mechanical Newtonian universe prevailed for more than two centuries until Einstein modified it. It still works for most earthly and celestial problems. He designed and built the first catadioptric (reflecting) telescope. His work on light, color, and optics was beyond anything previously done. His intellect was unique. He also wrote a million words on alchemy. He was the second Lucasian Professor of Mathematics at Cambridge. He spent the last 30 years of his life in London. There, he was the Warden and then the Master of the Royal Mint. As such, he was a relentless scourge of counterfeiters. Simultaneously, he was president of the Royal Society. There has never been anyone like him. His position in British and worldwide science is equivalent to that of Shakespeare in letters.
Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716) was a mathematician, philosopher, scientist, and diplomat. He developed the calculus independent of Newton, though probably after the secretive Englishman. His system of notation formed the basis for that now used. He made important contributions to philosophy, theology ethics, politics, law, history, philology physics, and technology. His work led to later advances in probability theory, biology, medicine, geology, psychology, linguistics, and computer science. Fluent in many languages he wrote in Latin, French and German, English, Italian, and Dutch. He was a pioneer in the field of mechanical calculators. He refined the binary number system that is the basis for all modern computers.
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) needs little explanatory information as his fame, ubiquity, and stature are everywhere acknowledged. There are a few composers who are his equal – Bach, Mozart, and Schubert. But no composer of supreme genius has the worldwide impact that Beethoven’s music evokes. Its power and unique creativity place him at a special locus. You personally may favor another composer, nevertheless when intensity and a direct route to the center of human existence is needed from music, Beethoven stands supreme. He is the quintessential universal genius.
Opera is a surreal amalgam of music and theater. To succeed it requires a composer to overcome the very high bar at which the suspension of disbelief is set. This hurdle is why there are so few operas that have captured and retained the attention of the public. Of the very small number of masters of this artform, Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901) stands at its summit. His 26 operas and Requiem Mass depict those characteristics and sentiments common to humanity with music that is both beautiful and dramatically apt. His combination of melody and intensity over a range that the spans the diameter of human emotions is unmatched. He is to the lyric theater what Shakespeare is to the play.
Albert Einstein (1879-1955) made epochal contributions to the two foundations of modern physics – relativity and quantum mechanics. His name is a synonym for genius. While quantum mechanics is the work of many great scientists, relativity is Einstein’s alone. In his miracle year of 1905 he outlined the theory of the photoelectric effect, explained Brownian motion, introduced special relativity, and demonstrated mass-energy equivalence, E = mc2 – the most famous equation in scientific history. It laid the groundwork for nuclear energy and nuclear bombs. He extended his work on relativity to gravitational fields, publishing his general theory of relativity in 1916. As big an intellectual giant as Richard Feynman said that as impressed by the theory as he was, he couldn’t understand how Einstein had thought it up in the first place.
Charlie Chaplin (1989-1977) at the peak of his career was the most famous person in the world. Chaplin wrote, directed, produced, edited, starred in, and composed the music for most of his films. His effect on today’s dominant artform, the movies, is incalculable. Since the invention of motion pictures, no one has achieved to artistry and prominence that Chaplin did.
It may seem strange to include an athlete on a list of universal geniuses – but so compelling, dominating, and 10 standard deviations from the athletic norm that prevailed when he entered baseball was Babe Ruth (1984-1948) that he deserves a spot on the list. He was an athletic genius whose performance level defied all the behavior rules supposedly required to achieve and sustain athletic prowess. Many sports observers questioned the wisdom of offering the 30 year old Aaron Judge a 9 year contract for $360 million. The Babe hit more home runs after 30 than he did before. Starting at age 31 he hit 47 HRs, then 60, 54, 46, 49, 46, and 41 when he was 37. This from a guy who trained on booze, beer, broads, hot dogs, and cigars. And of course he was the greatest left handed pitcher of his time before he decided he wanted to play every day. Before he became very overweight he was a great fielder and base runner. In the history of athletics he was a once in a species figure.
I’ve ended my list at 14. Here are a few more names that might have made the cut had I decided to keep going. I’ve Included no soldiers, but if I did Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan would be prime candidates. The latter if no other reason than there are 16 million men who carry his Y chromosome.
Moses, depicted in the first five books of the Hebrew bible, was the greatest leader ever. And he talked to God and even more remarkably God responded.
Avicenna (Ibn Sina) was a Persian contemporary of al-Biruni. They corresponded. His (Avicenna’s) accomplishments are comparable to his coeval’s.
Benjamin Franklin is the only politician that might make my list. His accomplishments are so vast and varied that no other American comes close. He was interested in virtually everything and made more contributions to more fields than any of his countrymen before or since his time. He was a writer, scientist, inventor, statesman, diplomat, printer, publisher, and political philosopher. He was even a chess expert. He founded schools, libraries, hospitals, fire departments, and on and on. His horizon was the world.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe is often called “the German Shakespeare,” though in many ways he was more of a Leonardo. In addition to writing literary masterpieces in every genre, he made scientific contributions to the fields of geology, anatomy, optics, and botany. He was also a painter, diplomat, and government administrator. It is mostly for his literary accomplishments that he is remembered today. To put his work in perspective, however, no on calls Shakespeare the English Goethe.
Enrico Fermi, the Italian-American physicist, was called the last man who knew everything – at least about physics. Both a brilliant theoretical and applied scientist, he was a full professor at the University of Rome when he was 26 and a Nobel prize winner at 37. He built the first atomic reactor and is considered designer of the nuclear age. At the University of Chicago where he worked after emigrating to the US, his teaching abilities are still legendary. He was as inspiring in the classroom as he was in the laboratory. His knowledge of physics was so extensive that he was called The Pope – he was infallible.
Verdi’s “poor sinner” was on the Met’s HD roster for an unprecedented fourth time today. Michael Mayer’s overstuffed production remains a motley melange of confused early to mid 19th century costumes speckled across a unitary set. But nobody goes to La Traviata because of the sets and costumes. It’s Verdi’s glorious and emotionally apposite music...
Celestina Boninsegna (1877-1947) was an Italian soprano best known for her facility with Verdi’s great soprano parts. Born in Reggio Emilia she was something of a vocal prodigy. Her first appearance on stage was as Norina in Donizetti’s Don Pasquale; she was 15. Following the completion of her vocal studies at the Conservatorio Gioachino Rossini in...
I’ll start this one with the beginning rather than the end. Verdi’s 9th opera is one of his roughest. There’s a lot coarse music that nevertheless has a certain grainy impact. The title role is what keeps the opera around. Sam Ramey sang the role with astounding regularity. The work begins with a short prelude...
Giuseppe Verdi as was typical of 19th century liberal intellectuals was distinctively and typically anti clerical. Accordingly, the priests in his operas are not usually sympathetically portrayed. Here are a few depicted in different ways. Verdi’s first success, Nabucco, was about the Babylonian Captivity of the Hebrews. It starts in the Temple of Solomon. The...
No Verdi opera has as many versions as Don Carlos. There are at least eight. Alas, the composer never designated any of them as definitive. The Met has done both four and five act Italian versions, but never until this season the five act French original. Well, not really the original. The Met’s current go...
Verdi’s The Sicilian Vespers was written to a French text by Eugene Scribe – Les vêpres siciliennes. It first appeared at the Paris Opera in 1855. Its French iteration was unsuccessful and it disappeared from France, and most of the rest of the operatic world, until fairly recently. In its Italian form is was more...
The Met seems to have a problem finding the locale of Verdi’s dark masterpiece. They moved it from Mantua to Las Vegas in 2013. That production didn’t last long; it was replaced this year by one set in the capital city of the Weimar Republic. Why? Who knows? Which site is weirder? Hard to tell....
Luisa Miller was first performed at the Teatro San Carlo, Naples in 1849. It was Verdi’s 15th opera (if you count Jérusalem the rewrite of I Lombardi for Paris as a separate work). It didn’t reach the Met until 1929 when it had six performances extending into 1930. The cast was a grand one. It...
La Traviata is an opera full of highlights. Much of its music its familiar to listeners who are not opera enthusiasts. But popular as it is, the finale to the second act is rarely heard apart from a complete performance. Nevertheless, this ensemble is one of Verdi’s grandest achievements. The world’s most popular opera, Traviata...
Writing for nine distinct voices in opera is rare. I can only think of two examples without a deep dive into opera arcana [If there are other examples, let me know]. First, Act 1 scene 2 of Verdi’s Falstaff. And if that’s not enough Verdi goes on to write for 10. This complex writing occurs...
Verdi wrote soprano parts for a variety of vocal types. The roles of Abigaille (Nabucco), Violetta (Traviata), and Leonora (Trovatore and Forza) have quite different requirements. The first asks for a spinto capable of both forceful declamation and great agility, but floated high notes and a velvet tone are not needed. Traviata seems as though...
Verdi started to threaten to retire before he was 50. After composing Un Ballo in Maschera he said he was done and that the life of a gentleman farmer was to be his for the remainder of his life. In 1861 he was approached by the great tenor Enrico Tamberlick, acting as an agent for...
Jonas Kaufmann sang the title role Otello for the first time in 2017. The venue was London’s Royal Opera House. Antonio Pappano conducted then as he does on the CD of Verdi’s masterpiece issued earlier this year by Sony . Both tenor and conductor seemed to have a slightly tenuous grasp of Verdi’s penultimate opera...
I’ve previously written about this finale, but it’s so good that I thought I’d post another version of it to compliment the three posted in June 2018. The great concertatos that fill Verdi’s operas return in a spectacular conclusion to Act 3 of Verdi’s Otello. Though Verdi’s great ensembles are glorious and unsurpassed, they had...
Embalming fluid – the only cure for presidential fever*
Forced retirement is now imposed on much of the world, I thought it of interest to comment on the retirement of four great figures, three of whom are not usually thought of as ever being retired. The fourth is a strange case of premature retirement.
The cessation of work most relevant to our current state of semi-house arrest is that of William Shakespeare (1564-1616). We know so little about him that wild speculation has followed his ghost. The claim that someone else wrote the plays and poetry was best encapsulated by Mark Twain. “If Shakespeare didn’t write Shakespeare’s plays, some other guy named Shakespeare did.”
He, or some other guy with the same name, seems to have left London in 1609 to escape a plague – plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. Playhouses were routinely closed during the span of the epidemic – 1603 to 1610. He did return to London, but there are no plays solely attributable to him from 1610 until his death at age 52 in 1616. His death seems to have been sudden and unexpected. His best known writing after retirement are in his will and on his tombstone. He left his wife “my second best bed” and had his headstone inscribed: “Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbear, / To dig the dust enclosed here. / Blessed be the man that spares these stones, / And cursed be he that moves my bones.” I’ve used the modern spelling of the blessing/curse. It worked because his mortal remains are still there. Nevertheless, not the most successful of retirements.
A more spectacular example of early retirement was that of Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790). After his move to Philadelphia from Boston he got rich as a printer and a writer, allowing him to retire in 1747. He then had enough leisure time to pursue other interests. So prodigious were these interests that one can get writer’s cramps from just listing them. Here are just a few. He invented the lightening rod, the Franklin stove, bifocal glasses, and the glass harmonica. Opera’s most famous mad scene is in Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor. The composer wrote it with a glass harmonica accompaniment. It’s usually done with a flute, but recently several companies including The Met have gone back to the glass harmonica as originally intended. The young American soprano Nadine Sierra and and an unnamed harmonica player performed the scene at Venice’s La Fenice. As she’s going bonkers Sierra both sings and mimes playing the glass harmonica.
When he was not inventing stuff, Franklin founded America’s first hospital, the American Philosophical Society, and the University of Pennsylvania. He was America’s first authority on chess. He also organized the future country’s first fire department and started the first public library. So protean were his gifts and accomplishments that he stands comparison with Leonardo, but Franklin unlike the Italian master usually finished what he started. And then there’s the founding of The United States of America and the $100 bill – but you know all about that.
The most enigmatic early retirement, and I mean really early, was that of Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868). Born on February 29th, a date that occurs a little bit more than every four years (1800 was not a leap year, nor were 1700 and 1900) he was rarer than his birthday, a success from the start. He literally grew up in the opera house. His father was a musician and his mother a singer.
He is the only composer to write multiple great operas before he was 25. Nobody else could do it – not Mozart, Wagner, or Verdi. His 40 or so operas all written in the 20 years from age 17 to 37 include some of the genre’s greatest works; and then he retired. Why is the cause of endless speculation. Over the remaining four decades of his life he devoted himself to food, wine, soirées, wit, and an occasional non-operatic composition.When the tenor Gilbert Duprez (the first of his kind to hit high C from the chest) asked to be received by Rossini, he was told to come upstairs but only if he left his high C below. Rossini hated this new style of singing.
The Stabat Mater, Petite messe solennelle, and the Péchés de vieillesse (Sins of old age – 150 vocal, chamber and solo piano pieces published after his death) are the products of his retirement years. Even though his last opera, Guillaume Tell, is universally regarded as a masterpiece, he could not be induced to write another. His will funded a home in Paris for retired opera singers.
In the operatic canon, I would rank Rossini second only to Verdi (see below). Verdi, whose austere temperament was more like that of a Roman of the Republic rather than a 19th century Italian, had two artistic heroes – Alessandro Manzoni (1785-1873) the author of the greatest Italian novel of the 19th century (I promessi sposi). Manzoni, a Lombard wrote in Florentine and finalized that dialect as Italian, finishing the process started by Dante. Verdi’s other hero was Rossini.
When Rossini died Verdi came up with the wildly impractical idea of writing a requiem mass for the late composer to be written by him and 12 other composers. The project failed. When Manzoni died five years later Verdi decided to assign the task of writing a commemorative solely to himself – The result was the Manzoni Mass, now called the Verdi Requiem.
If the facts of Giuseppe Verdi’s life (1813-1901) were not so well known, scholars with time on their hands would say someone else had written his operas. He was born in an obscure hamlet (Le Roncole) in the province of Parma. His father was a tavern keeper and his mother a spinner. He was informally adopted when he was 10 by the richest man in neighboring Busseto – Antonio Barezzi. Barezzi was such a supporter that he paid for private musical lessons in Milan after Verdi had been rejected by the city’s conservatory. Its now the Verdi Conservatory. The name was changed while the composer was still alive. He hated the name change. He was so angry about the rejection that he kept the letter informing him of this action all his life. It still exists. On it he wrote, “I was rejected.” Verdi also married Barezzi’s daughter. Alas, she and their two children died over a two year span.
After a rocky start, Verdi dominated Italian opera for more than half a century. His first opera (Oberto) was performed at La Scala in 1839, his last (Falstaff) at the same theater in 1893. His operas made him a very rich man. After writing Aida for the opening of the Cairo Opera House in 1871 he retired. He had earlier bought a large estate in Sant’Agata just outside of Busseto. He lived there with his second wife Giusepina, a retired opera singer. He gradually acquired more land as the royalties from his operas continued to increase. He built a hospital and school for his tenant farmers. He spent most of his time supervising the farmland and buildings accompanied by his workers and dogs. He was a tough, but fair boss.
Though seemingly retired from composition, he took his requiem mass on tour and made a lot of money conducting it. It was at the Comédie-Française the same time Bizet’s Carmen was having its unsuccessful premiere there.
Beginning in 1881 Giulio Ricordi (Verdi’ publisher), Giusepina, and Arrigo Boito began a long campaign to get Verdi back to composition. Boito, a musician, librettist, and public intellectual was to write a libretto based on Othello. Though Verdi spoke no English he was a lifelong admirer of Shakespeare. He had previously set Macbeth to music. It took the Met more than a century to mount the opera; it has frequently been staged there since its 1959 house premiere (111 times as of last year) and is universally regarded as a masterpiece.
Verdi and Boito in their letters referred to the opera undergoing construction as the ‘chocolate project’. Until very recently Otello has been portrayed as a black man. Political correctness has abolished the blackened face. The opera suffers from this concession to wokeness. Otello is an outsider, the libretto specifically describes him as a black man. Boito’s libretto omits the plays first act set in Venice and hence Brabantio’s fury at his daughter’s elopement with Othello as well has his warning that if she betrayed me (Brabantio) she may well betray you (Othello). The powers that be at the world’s opera houses have no problem with a black person portraying a white; it’s the other way around that’s verboten. Otello’s blackness in a white world helps explain his insecurity and the ease with which Iago convinces him that Desdemona is unfaithful. The opera suffers when Otello is white.
After six years of coaxing, Verdi likely enjoyed the attention, the opera was completed. In 1887 Otello was staged to great acclaim at La Scala. Boito’s libretto is one of the best in all opera and Verdi’s setting is thought by many, including me, as the greatest of all tragic operas.
George Bernard Shaw was a music critic at the time; he wrote under the nom de plume of Corno di Bassetto. He refused to go to the premiere of Verdi’s new opera saying he didn’t wish to be part of a grand old an demonstration. He was an ardent Wagnerian at the time; later in life he repented. He reviewed the opera from the score and declared that it wasn’t as if Verdi had written an opera in the style of Shakespeare, rather Shakespeare had written a play in the style of an Italian opera. Shaw was always entertaining if rarely wise.
Following the triumph of Otello, Verdi was sure that he was now finally retired. Nearing 80 he was induced by the same triumvirate to do another Shakespeare opera, a comedy based on The Merry Wives of Windsor. Boito produced another masterful libretto, Falstaff. In addition to The Merry Wives, he took scenes from both parts of Henry IV. Of his 27 previous operas, only one had been a comedy and it was such a fiasco that Verdi who had just lost his entire family almost gave up composition.
He set to work complaining that he could only work four hours a day compared to the 12 hours that had been his typical pace when he was younger. He also decided to write this opera for himself. His previous dictum had been that the only critic who counted was the box office. The theater was meant to be be full, he declared. Advice that should be considered anew.
Falstaff was premiered at La Scala in 1893. Everyone knew this was really the end of Verdi’s operas. It was a huge success. But something was off. The opera moves at such a pace that its initial audiences were left breathless and confused. Verdi’s music has the energy of a 25 year old combined with the wisdom of old age. Toscanini who was already a famous conductor returned to the orchestra playing the cello at the world premiere.
As interest in Falstaff waned Toscanini kept the opera alive by programming it at La Scala and The Met when he was the chief conductor at both houses. He thought it was Verdi’s greatest opera. Interest gradually revived and today is is part of the standard operatic repertory. The critic Richard Osborne wrote, “Falstaff is comedy’s musical apogee: the finest opera, inspired by the finest dramatist, by the finest opera composer the world has known”. Not bad for a retired guy.
The last years of Verdi’s life were spent overseeing the construction of a home for retired opera singers. He called it his best opera. An Italian pun as opera also means work in that language. He called it the Casa di Riposo per Musicisti (Rest Home for Musicians), but everyone one calls it the Casa Verdi. He left the home all of his future royalties. They lasted until 1951. Both he and Giusepina are buried there.
“Predictions are difficult, especially when they concern the future,” said Yogi Berra. Yogi, as always was on target especially when it came to the COVID-19 epidemic. We were told to flatten the curve so as to protect our hospitals from being overwhelmed. We did this so successfully that doctors, nurses, and other medical personnel are now forced into early retirement because hospitals and clinics are almost empty. Mice and men and all that goes with it.
I’ll conclude with a happy example of retirement. Rossini’s The Barber of Seville written when he was 23; it is his 15th and most popular opera. Dr Bartolo, a medical doctor, is the work’s main comic foil. He isn’t specified as retired, but there’s no evidence that he practices or does anything except chase after a much younger woman. His wonderful patter song describes what an important doctor is he is. The great basso buffo of the last century, Fernando Corena is the singer. A un dottor della mia sorte
A footnote. Politicians can’t retire as the minimum age of eligibility for election as US president has been raised to 70. And every office holder from dog catcher to senator see a president when he looks in the mirror.*
I recently wrote about the last few minutes of the first act of Tosca, which is set in a church – Sant’Andrea della Valle. There are other operas which have scenes in a church or houses of worship, five are presented below.
Giacomo Meyerbeer was a German composer who tried to follow the style of Rossini. He came close to achieving this goal with Il crociato in Egitto (1824). He moved to Paris where he became the personification French Grand Opera. Robert le diable and Les Huguenots were spectacular successes. Le prophète which came next was also a hit.
The prophet is a fictionalized account of John of Leiden who led an Anabaptist rebellion which gained control over the German city of Münster. After his rebellion was suppressed he died a grisly death preceded by prolonged torture. In the opera he blows up the local palace killing everyone, including himself; not even a super survives. The orchestra is lucky to get out of the theater intact. Eugene Scribe’s libretto takes Jean (John) from peasant to would be emperor over five long acts.
The second scene of Act 4 takes place in the Münster Cathedral. It starts with the well known Coronation March. Jean has decided to make himself Emperor. His followers think him divine. When his mother, Fidès, recognizes him and calls out to him he realizes that he’s in danger of being revealed as an ordinary mortal, so he denies any relationship to her. He asks his followers to stab him if she repeats the claim. She understands what’s happening and withdraws the claim of kinship. Just below is a link to the entire scene. Marilyn Horne and Nicolai Gedda are the principals.
Le prophète Act 4 scene 2
Gounod’s Faust was the first work performed by the Metropolitan Opera when it opened in 1883. It was so popular the Met was dubbed the Faustspielhaus. Loosely based on Goethe’s play it has been criticized for being loosely based on Goethe’s play. A kind of learned idiocy particularly prevalent today. It’s an opera with a simple story that when well cast works very well – Goethe Smerthe. It’s got great tunes and one scene that dramatically works as well as any in opera. The last scene of Act 4 is in a church where poor Marguerite, her life ruined, goes to pray. Mephistopheles and a choir of devils intervene; the stricken girl faints when the head devil curses her. The Church Scene is a theatrical wallop. Victoria de los Ángeles and Boris Christoff are perfection in this 62 year old recording.
Act 3 scene 2 of Massenet’s Manon takes place in the Church of Saint-Sulpice in Paris. Des Grieux, the testosterone addled tenor, has decided to take the collar after Manon dumped him for a rich man. He is now an abbé. He can’t get her out of his hormone possessed head. She appears after he’s given a sermon and sung a big aria and seduces him right there in church in front of man and God. Anna Netrebko and Jonas Kaufmann are the lovers. N’est-ce plus ma main?
Religion figures prominently in many of Giuseppe Verdi’s operas. He also wrote what is likely the greatest requiem mass yet conceived. All this from a non-believer who might even have been an atheist. He was a master student of the human condition and thus had to be interested in mankind’s spiritual dimension.
Verdi’s priests are never favorably depicted. Their behaviors are quite different, but never wise and effective. The enlightened intellectual of 19th century Italy was anti-clerical. Padre Guardiano in La Forza Del Destino is well meaning and ultimately ineffective. He’s part of a cast that gets everything wrong throughout the opera. In Act 2 scene 2 the soprano, Leonora di Vargas, seeks refuge in a monastery headed by the above padre. Why not a convent? Because Forza is an opera about people with really bad luck – destiny if you will. The scene ends with one of Verdi’s most wonderful inventions – a duet with men’s chorus. There aren’t many duets for soprano and bass. This one is at the top of the small list. Zinka Milanov is Leonora, Cesare Siepi is Padre Guardiano – from a 1958 Met performance. Or siam soli
Non-Christian priests don’t fare any better with Verdi than do their Christian successors. Ramfis in Aida is not a well of kindness. The second scene of the first act is in the Temple of Vulcan in Memphis. How Vulcan got to ancient Egypt thousands of years before the Romans conjured him has yet to be explained. After some dancing and chorale singing Ramfis (bass) installs Radames (tenor) as commander-in-chief of the Egyptian Army – Egypt is at war with Ethiopia. Radames wins the war and falls in love with the wrong woman, at least from a political perspective. They both die, but only after a beautiful duet. This clip is the end of the temple scene of Act one. Jussi Björling and Boris Christoff are the soloists. Mortal, diletto