"So that I can remember you in my prayers...

...tell me your name, unknown saviour." And with these words, La Gioconda assures that her lover Enzo will discover that his beloved Laura still lives and is indeed right before his eyes (for Laura has just saved La Gioconda's mother). Enzo will spend the rest of the opera hoping to get back with Laura (and he will succeed in this) and it is La Giconda who is marked for death and tragedy. The next words, about, and which figure in the clips to come are "Dearest Enzo! Oh, how much I love you" (Enzo adorato. Ah, come t'amo!). She addresses him in love but he is lost forever to her through the question asked in gratitude not 10 seconds earlier, as I have said. La Gioconda's mother may be La Cieca (the blind one) but she cannot see either. It is a trademark compelling moment of the kind Ponchielli excelled in. It is also a moment that only improves the better you know the opera, the more you have listened to it, the more you have seen it.

This scene also features a lovely B flat which the soprano holds as a truly beautiful melody materializes and commences its soaring course from underneath. In the excepts to come, I have focussed on the soprano's B flat. In the last clip, however, I give you more of the scene and include the truly gorgeous postlude to this little scene. This is writing in the grand manner and it is one of the glories of the Italian repertoire.

Callas first studio

Callas is always interesting. She does not deliver some of the cream that we will get from Zinka later but she is present, we are in the presence of the character, as always.

Urmana studio (recent)

Urmana sounds very nice indeed. The quality of the high note is muy nice. Gosh she makes a nice dramatic soprano.

Gencer (Venice 1971)

Gencer has delicacy and some glottal action here. The rough and the smooth. THE note starts off soft and then suddenly triples in volume. Wha?! Then the note starts to sound kind of scary toward the end. Things end up where they are supposed to, but gosh the journey has some weird moments. But this is par for the course with this important singer.

Rysanek (Berlin 1974)

Rysanek is perhaps not everyone's cup of tea in the Italian rep. This is fun to hear though. I always like her engagement.

Milanov (New York 1939)

The trademark Milanov (she sounds young!) is laying it down. "I own this role; I understand what an opportunity this moment is."

Milanov (New York 1946)

The trademark Milanov (she is aged to perfection!) is saying that what she said in 1939 still applies. Note how the orchestra takes it really slow--- she has plenty of air left... "What's the rush? There is no rush. I own this role."

Farrell (New York 1962)

Nice gleaming tone! Such authority! You should hear her elsewhere in this recording! She filled the house with clear-eyed phrasing and a powerful voice. If you see this recording available, you will want to grab it.

Tebaldi studio

Love Tebaldi. She is so there. I really enjoy her in her Indian-Summer forays into the dramatic repertoire.

Milanov studio

This is my fav. ZM is able to relax and do the note just so. Check out the glide down! Schuweet!! The yearning and loving nature of this character come out so nicely. There really is no other in this role.

The inspiration for this post is the local opera society's screening of a DVD of a recent performance of this opera from a production in Barcelona. Deborah Voigt will be in the lead. Also, a couple of days later at our house we are going to watch a VHS cassette I recently acquired featuring Grace Bumbry from 1988 (also Barcelona). We are watching them so close together because the second one is not subtitled in English (there are Spanish subtitles). If we see it soon enough, we will remember enough of what is going on so that we won't miss the subtitles too much. La Gioconda fever in our secluded glade down here in Wellington (where Fall is on its way).

One of the Great Tenor Arias [UPDATED]

And yet it is one that you are not going to be thinking of, usually. It from Lalo's opera Le Roi d'Ys. It is called "Vainement, ma bien­aimée". I think it is one of the most gorgeous things in the world. It can make my throat catch and my eyes water. When it is done well, it makes me feel unsteady in the way anything truly beautiful does. It is so sweet and the melody has some bittersweetness to it. Lalo's interesting and subtle use of harmony (People, he seamlessly moves from A-flat to A in just a couple of bars [don't try this at home-- leave it to the pros]!) makes for a sonic landscape that can be populated by my most treasured "what-if" memories and my melancholies for those who are gone.

Here is Nicolai Gedda's version complete.

Note the lovely high-note (an A) that he sings so high and sweet (twice) and also his masculine phrasing in other sections. This is quite my favorite version.

Here are the words (I hope they are all correct! I cut and pasted this):

MYLIO
(paraît au milieu de ses compagnons)
Puisqu'on ne peut fléchir ces jalouses gardiennes,
Ah! laissez­moi
Conter mes peines
Et mon émoi.
Vainement, ma bien­aimée!
On croit me désespérer;
Près de ta porte fermée
Je veux encore demeurer.

JEUNES FILLES
Vainement près de sa porte
Il veut encor demeurer.

MYLIO
Les soleils pourront s'étendre.
Les nuits remplacer les jours.
Sans t'accuser et sans me plaindre
Là, je resterai toujours.

JEUNES FILLES
Toujours, toujours!

MYLIO
Je le sais, ton âme est douce,
Et l'heure bientôt viendra
Où la main qui me repousse
Vers la meinne se tendra.

JEUNES FILLES
Vrainement près de sa porte
Il veut encor demeurer!

MYLIO
Ne sois pas trop tardive
A te laisser attendrir,
Si Rozeen bientôt n'arrive,
Je vaix, hélas! mourir.

And here is a translation:

Since it is impossible to move these jealous guardians,
ah, let me tell you of my sorrows and my fears!

In vain, my love,
do they think to make me lose hope.
Near your locked gate
I will remain.

Suns may fade,
Night turn into day,
before I accuse you or complain;
there will I remain forever!

Well I know that your soul is kind;
and soon shall come the hour
when that hand, which pushes me away,
will be held out to mine!

But be not too slow
in allowing yourself to take pity.
If Rozenn comes not soon,
I shall die, alas.

For Classicists in the room, it's a sort of paraclausithyron [a serenade at the door of the beloved]. The tenor is awaiting his beloved and she does appear in just a moment.



I have some excerpts from other tenors for you. Here is part of the version from Roberto Alagna. (He you may recall stormed off the stage at La Scala not long ago). What do you think of this one?



Here is Alfredo Kraus in 1995 when he was really rather old. He sounds good and better than many a younger man.

Here is Edmond Clement from early in the 20th century. TRH is particularly fond of this one.



Alain Vanzo here shows it how it is done from a complete recording in the 70s. I really like him as a singer, period.



This is a real fav of mine, dating from the 20s I think. This guy, Rogatchewsky, really made me choke up with his high note and the way he had with the notes immediately after (and the lead-in too, come to think of it). Aw guy, you went and made me cry, whyawannagoanddothat, huh?

Here is reminder of Gedda

And to conclude, here of all people is the earstwhile Rossini tenor Bruce Ford coming up with a very nice version in English.
(Ford's version complete).

I hope you liked this and that some of the sense of wonder that this piece of music awakens in me has be brought across to you.

[It seems that Jose Aparicio could excel in this aria.]

O Tempora, O Laetitiam Maximam: Finalmente, I Lituani!!

[Poster advertising a 19th century production; all images from Wikipedia]

If you know La Gioconda well (and everyone should!—I am right about this), you will know the moment you hear I Lituani that Amilcare Ponchielli has written this opera too. There are all sorts of touches that identify the compositional fingerprints as none other than our own Amilcare’s. There is use of high woodwinds in rapid jagged figurations in thirds, for example. And on two occasions, he employs a particular chord progression that only he (and Mascagni, later, in Cav-- in my experience, at any rate) uses and which he uses to heighten the emotional tenor of a scene. Other composers will do something similar and the lead up to the chord will be the same. But the resultant chord, which dear reader your ear is expecting, is the one you get from other composers. From Ponchielli, you get this other chord and the effect is fresh and also the strongest sort of authorial fingerprint. You feel the emotional tide shift violently and so the plot is dramatized most effectively at the level of your emotional reaction cued by the music while you go all “meta” at the same time, seeing the composer’s hand, as it were, underlining the note and signing his masterpiece. It is so delicious and it is one of the many reasons I love Ponchielli. He makes use of this progression in La Gioconda and, as I have said, twice in I Lituani. (I could try to find these momnents, as I noted them in Greece while I was listening to the piece a lot. But I am not going to find them now. Is this bad service? Do you want to call the manager on my ass? Maybe you will be mollified by two sound clips below? I certainly hope so.)

I Lituani is a nationalistic opera a la William Tell or one of Verdi’s galley pieces (La Battaglia springs to mind). It concludes with a chorus which recalls the final chorus of the William Tell come to think of it. It is all about the struggle of the Lithuanians against the Germans in the later middle ages. This opera not surprisingly has been taken to heart by Lithuanians and it was put on in Chicago in the 90s where there is a sizable Lithuanian population. Here is the poster for that production:



The opera is in a prologue and three acts.

In a nutshell here is the plot:

Corrado Wallenrod, actually a Lithuanian named Walter who is impersonating a loyal Teutonic Knight, allows the Lithuanians to win against the Teutons by executing a long-planned misdirection. Aldona, his wife who has entered a convent, searches for her love Walter, and finds him right before he is sentenced to death for his deception.

In more detail, here is the plot (thanks to Wikipedia):

Prologue:
From the battlements of a castle in Lithuania, Albano--an old bard--moans that his country is being destroyed by the Teutons. Aldona, a Lithuanian princess, wonders about her brother, Arnoldo, and Walter, her husband, and invites everyone to pray. Arnoldo and Walter return and announce a heinous betrayal by Vitoldo, one of their leaders, which has led to the defeat of the Lithuanian army. Walter tells his wife about using his German education to defeat the Teutonic Knights, and swears his eternal love for her before leaving to avenge the Lithuanians.

[Here is a wonderful moment from the prologue. The melody here is the melody that starts the opera.]

[[One wants to take Ponchielli aside, “Ascolta [listen up], Amilcare---what is it with all the names beginning with “A.” Oh wait, I think I just answered my own question, "A"milcare. But all the same, As Ah was Assertin’ as to Aldona, Arnaldo, and Albano, I mean Verdi would never do this, put in so many names starting with "A," of course, take Aida, for example, there’s Aida, Amneris, Amonas… oh... never mind.]]

Act I
Ten years later, in the cathedral square of Marienburg, the Teutonic Knights celebrate the new Grand Master of the Teutonic Order, Corrado Wallenrod, who is actually Walter. Vitoldo is furious, because he believes he should be Grand Master. Ten Lithuanian prisoners in chains are brought to be sacrificed in Corrado's honor at the celebration; Arnoldo is one of them. Corrado unexpectedly frees them, and afterwards Arnoldo realizes that Corrado is actually Walter. Arnoldo runs into his sister, Aldonda, who has come to Marienburg after entering a convent, hoping to find Walter. Albano, Arnoldo, and Aldona set out to find Walter in the castle.

Act II
In a large hall of the castle where the celebration is being held, Corrado invites everyone to dance and to sing. Arnoldo and Aldona, disguised as bards, sing a song about the sad fate of Lithuania, which also predicts its imminent liberation. The Teutonic Knights object, and Corrado hurls himself towards Arnoldo, while Aldona tries to separate them. Corrado orders the knights to sheath their swords, and Albano tries to convince Corrado not to give his true identity away. Vitoldo recognizes Aldona, but Corrado orders the judgement against Aldona and Arnoldo be adjourned so that the celebration can continue.

Act III
Aldona comes out of the ruins of a cloister, where a battle between the Lithuanians and Teutonic Knights is taking place nearby. She meets Walter, and hopes for a happy future of love, but Walter has been betrayed for causing the defeat of the Teutonic Knights by the Lithuanians. Later, back in the castle, Albano tells Walter that a secret court has sentenced Walter to death. Rather than falling into enemy hands, Walter drinks some poison and exalts the victory of the Lithuanians, and asks Albano to give Aldona his last farewell. Aldona arrives, and Walter dies in her arms. The Willi, divine spirits of Lithuania, arrive to welcome the glorious warrior's soul.

[Hooray for heroic self-sacrificing manhood! Give it all up for Lithuania!!]

As far as the performance goes, Gavazzeni conducts so wonderfully. He is always so good. He also has a good band to work with (check out the care with which the lower strings play their intricate and rapid figurations on CD1 track 2. Gav asked for tight careful work and the orchestra is able to deliver). Ottavio Garaventa is a little crude, but he has a manly glamour in his voice and I like him even if I want just a bit more finesse at times. (You will have heard him foregrounded in the clip above.) The other performances are well-done. Yasuko Hayashi has a nice lyric soprano that has some spinto in it. She's good and to be found on many a pirate. I have liked her in the past, I like her even more now. The ensembles make their points and the passion in this piece is brought out well in an alert and all in all quite satisfying performance.

The prelude is very nice, starting off interestingly with a sort of passionate moderato. The melody I refer to here is the same as the one in the clip up above. This prelude is as nice a thing as the prelude to La Gioconda, and that is saying something.

To conclude, here a delightful bit of music (from Act 2) that is well so so so Ponchielli (and, kids, that is reason enough to go to the opera). Here it is. I have played this one a bunch of times; it is the kind of music that puts a smile on my face and I am altogether pleased that I am AT THE OPERA.


[A page from the autograph score of I Lituani]

Netrbko Fever not Abated

Courtesy of one of my guilty, I plead guilty, your honour, pleasures: Opera Chic

My sister Barbara (or as Hyacinth "Bouquet" might put it, me'sister Barbara) will get this site cuz she reads People Magazine. This site is a somewhat like People Magazine for opera- and classical musico-philes; though to say the site is only that would be unfair, I have noted some excellent judgments and she has got a most interesting discourse range going--- one second the basis of judgment is coming right out highly intellectualized musical criticism, the next second it is the judgment of a listener who is keen and has heard many many performances, and then the next it is a basis of utter frivolous absurdity (and when she is here, she winks!) It is fun stuff if a little over the top. The piece on dontdatehimgirl.com was pretty damn funny. Furtwangler's jilted lover spreading the word on that two-timeing Willis, don't date him Fraulein!

Id sum nunc, populi!, sed alii erunt ea mox. Ita vero.

Chalkenteros has tagged me. I go now to page 123 of, wait for it... wait for it... volume 2 of the Loeb classical library... wait for it... PLOTINUS! O Gioia Inexprimabile!!

HERE IT IS (and good thing that the Loebs have English on the odd pages):

[Plotinus, Enneads 2.5]:
"Now if this is so, then besides the other qualities, colours and degrees of heat and cold, we must not attribute to it lightness or heaviness, density or rarity, and indeed not even shape: and so not size either. For it is one thing to be size and another to be given a size, one thing to be a shape, another to be given shape." [Well of course, I was telling Nelson, our terrier, this this morning!] "And matter must not be composite, but simple and one thing in its own nature; for so it will be destitute of all qualities." [Yeah yeah, been there and done that at least since Plato laid this groove down in the Timaeus.] I tag AS/Mashugenah and Stephanie-- and let them go to page 123 of the nearest book and transcribe sentences 5, 6, and 7 onto their blogs. And may they too tag others.

Back!

Well we did have a lovely trip. I have drawn you up a little map here (it is more than a little crude--- the red is our general motion and the green is a special trip we took one day to this totally deserted and gorgeous beach on the west coast):



We first went down to Christchurch which was flat, boring, and rather rainy. Will not visit there except for business in the future. We did howver take a trip to Akaroa which is out on the coast. I have crudely labelled it on the above map for you. It was beautiful and below are some picture that will prove it. After 2 days of fairly poor weather, like I have said (with some nice clearing for that day trip), we called the place where we stay in Takaka on Golden Bay to see if we could come a day early. We could! So it was good-bye to boring Christchurch and back up the island. It was a lovely six-hour drive on which we saw a lot of beautiful. country in the interior of the island that we had not seen before. Takaka is where we spent a little over a week. It was chill-time. Watching movies. I wrote up the bulk of Chapter Four of my book--- the muse was most cooperative. I have this book review I am supposed to write but as long as the muse gives me unfettered access to my brain (or something like that), the book review can f!@#ing wait, yaknow? Dinners, all made by me in house, went well. Brekafasts too. Dessert, usually a strong point, was another story. I made a terrible pie [can't use already-made pie crust, I know I know, I was looking for the easy way out faced as I was by a primitive kitchen, yeah yeah I know) and some lame cookies. Two for two!! Score!! People!!! We listened to a lot of opera from all periods (things by Fibich, Lalo, and Strauss, inter alios). One day we made our way to a really deserted beach, as I said above. New Zealand is great for that. Now Pictures.

Next two are from the road above Akaroa:





Here is the view from the front of the little house we rent in Takaka. (Just behind you, you can hear Timmy making excuses as to why he might not want to have a cookie just right now):



Various other shots from around Takaka:









The remaining shots are from that deserted beach (nice huh?):