Giacomo Puccini

Giacomo Puccini (JAH-koh-moh poo-CHEE-nee, 1858–1924) came from a long line of Italian church musicians, and it was assumed he’d inherit the “family business” in Tuscany. But a fateful trek from Lucca to Pisa to see Verdi’s Aïda convinced Puccini to give up organ pedals for footlights, and he became the only real successor of Verdi in the realm of Italian opera. When he died of throat cancer the whole of Italy went into mourning, and no opera composer since has enjoyed the same kind of sustained international following that Puccini still has. Puccini is reckoned to be the most popular opera composer in America, with his Madama Butterfly (1904) and La bohème (The Bohemian, 1896) ranking as the two most-performed operas in the United States.

Gianni Schicchi: O mio babbino caro

The one act of Gianni Schicchi, Puccini’s only comic opera, was first performed in 1918 at New York’s Metropolitan Opera along with his two other one-act operas, Il tabarro and Suor Angelica. Together the three comprise Il trittico (The Triptych), and the composer insisted that they should only be performed as a group—but even during his lifetime this wish was ignored. Fleshed out from a few cryptic lines in Dante’s Inferno, Gianni Schicchi, the most popular of Il trittico, tells the tale of a crafty Florentine who helps a dishonest family fake a counterfeit will when the lately deceased head of their clan bequeaths his fortune to the local monastery rather than to his greedy distant relatives (and who could blame him?). Gianni’s plot ultimately benefits the reprobate heirs, but in his scheming he tricks them out of the deceased’s mansion and favorite mule for himself (and who could blame him?). At first Gianni is unwilling to assist the disagreeable bunch, but he finally relents at the behest of his daughter, “Lauretta,” who otherwise will be unable to marry the beloved nephew of the elderly cousin of the deceased. Of all Puccini’s soprano arias, Lauretta’s tuneful entreaty, O mio babbino caro, has become perhaps the most familiar (at least among non-opera goers), thanks in large part to its inclusion in the 1986 Academy Awarding®-winning film, A Room with a View. Who could deny a daughter who sings so beautifully?

--Intermezzo Sunday Concerts, November 18, 2007 (Bella Voce Cabaret)

La bohème

Italian libretto: Luigi Illica (1857-1919) and Giuseppe Giacosa (1847-1906)

The story of La bohème comes from the semi-autobiographical novel, Scènes de la vie de bohème (Scenes in the Life of a Bohemian), by Henri Murger (1822-1861), and it loosely serves as the model for the Broadway musical, Rent. The sad tale centers around the on-again, off-again romantic relationship between Rodolfo, a struggling writer, and the delicate Mimi, who ekes out a meager living making needlework flowers.

As the curtain opens it's Christmas Eve, and Rodolfo and his roommate are getting ready for a jolly night out with their friends. Rodolfo decides to finish a bit of work on his own first, but his solitude is interrupted by a neighbor, Mimi, whose candle has gone out on the stairway. Rodolfo is taken with her beauty, so, as his friends call for him from outside to hurry along, he hangs behind to get better acquainted with the distressed damsel. Alone, the pair share their life stories, with some of the most beautiful music ever written for the stage--so, really--how could they not fall in love? In their duet, O soave fanciulla, which ends the first of the operas four acts, Rodolfo begins his seduction routine, reciting lines he may well have used many times before. Only, this time, he realizes he actually means what he's saying.

English translation: Edward Lein, ©2012

Rodolfo:

O soave fanciulla, o dolce viso

di mite circonfuso alba lunar

in te, vivo ravviso il sogno

ch'io vorrei sempre sognar!

Mimì:

(Ah! tu sol comandi, amor!)

Fremon già nell'anima

le dolcezze estreme,

nel bacio freme amor!

(Oh! come dolci scendono le sue lusinghe al core...

Tu sol comandi, amore!)

No, per pietà!

Sei mia!

V'aspettan gli amici...

Già mi mandi via?

Vorrei dir ... ma non oso ...

Dì.

Se venissi con voi?

Che? Mimì?!

Sarebbe così dolce restar qui. C'è freddo fuori.

Vi starò vicina!

E al ritorno?

Curioso!

Dammi il braccio, mia piccina.

Obbedisco, signor!

Che m'ami di'!

Io t'amo!

Amore! Amor! Amor!

Rodolfo:

O loveliest of maidens, O sweetest vision,

Bathed in the soft glow of a moonbeam;

In you, I see a dream come to life--

A dream I pray always to dream!

Mimì:

(Ah! You alone command us, O Love!)

In the depth of my soul

I tremble with the height of passion.

Your kisses thrill Love itself!

(Oh! How sweetly does his flattery fall upon my heart...

You alone command me, Beloved!)

No, I beg you!

Be mine!

You're expected by your friends ...

Already I'm sent away?

I'd rather say... but I dare not ...

Say ...

Might I go along with you?

What? Mimi?!

It would be so much sweeter to stay here. It's freezing outside.

I shall stay close to you!

And when we return?

You'd like to know!

Let me take your arm, my dear little one.

I shall oblige, kind sir!

Tell me you love me!

I love you!

My darling! My love! My love!

In Mimì’s 3rd Act aria, Donde lieta, the consumptive heroine resigns herself to the notion that it might be best if they separated amicably, alluding to souvenirs of happier times. (But by the end of the scene they decide not to part until spring—who could be sad then, when the world is in bloom?)

Donde lieta uscì

al tuo grido d'amore,

torna sola Mimì

al solitario nido.

Ritorna un'altra volta

a intesser finti fior.

Addio, senza rancor.

Ascolta, ascolta.

Le poche robe aduna

che lasciai sparse.

Nel mio cassetto stan chiusi

quel cerchietto d'or

e il libro di preghiere.

Involgi tutto quanto in un grembiale

e manderò il portiere...

Bada, sotto il guanciale

c'è la cuffietta rosa.

Se vuoi--se vuoi, serbarla

a ricordo d'amor!

Addio--addio, senza rancor.

From whence she joyously left

at the beckoning of your love,

all alone must Mimì now return

to that empty nest ...

Returning once again

to embroider make-believe flowers.

So farewell, but without bitterness.

Listen, listen.

Gather up the few things

that are still scattered about.

Tucked inside my drawer are

that golden bracelet ...

and my prayer book.

Bundle up everything in an apron

and I'll send someone to fetch it.

Only listen--under my pillow

you’ll find that pink bonnet ...

If you want--if you'd like to, you should keep it

as a memento of our love.

So goodbye--goodbye, with no bitterness.

--Translation c2009, E. Lein

--Music @ Main, February 10, 2009 (Mu Phi Epsilon Student Recital)

La rondine: Chi bel il sogno di Doretta

Puccini’s one foray into operetta has had less success, but for La rondine (“The Swallow”) Puccini created one of his most memorably soaring arias. In context, Chi bel il sogno di Doretta (“Doretta's beautiful dream”) is a newly composed song introduced at a cocktail party by “Prunier,” a poet and composer. But he has no ending for his song, so he invites “Magda,” a demimondaine who harbors her own romantic dreams, to join him at the piano to make up an ending. Magda’s contribution becomes one of those tunes you can’t get out of your head (despite being almost impossible to sing), so one might assume that the song became a hit!

Chi il bel sogno di Doretta

Potè indovinar?

Il suo mister

come mai

Come mai fini?

Ahimè! un giorno uno studente

In bocca la baciò

E fu quel bacio

Rivelazione:

Fu la passione!

Folle amore!

Folle ebbrezza!

Chi la sottil carezza

D'un bacio cosi ardente

Mai ridir potrà?

Ah! mio sogno!

Ah! mia vita!

Che importa la ricchezza

Se alfine è rifiorita

La felicità!

O sogno d'or,

Poter amar così!

Who can guess the lovely

dream Doretta had...

how its mystery

came to be,

came to be resolved?

Ah! One fine day a student

kissed her on the lips,

and with this first kiss

came epiphanies

ablaze with passion's fire!

Exquisite madness...

Delirious ecstasy...

How might one find a way

to express the soft caress

of such a burning kiss?

O my yearning!

O my life's dream!

How could one care for wealth

when at last the lovely dream

of happiness awakes?

O golden dream,

To hold a love like that!

--Translation c2009, E. Lein

--Music @ Main, February 10, 2009 (Mu Phi Epsilon Student Recital)

Turandot: Nessun dorma

Based on a folktale from The Arabian Nights, Puccini’s exotic final opera, Turandot, was left unfinished at his death, but that hasn’t stopped its 3rd-act aria, Nessun dorma (“None shall sleep”), from becoming the biggest-ever “crossover” hit, owing primarily to the international commercial success of Italian tenor Luciano Pavarotti (1935-2007). Although he rarely performed in stage productions of the entire opera, Nessun dorma became Pavarotti’s signature song, and when he was too sick to receive his Lifetime Achievement Award during the 1998 Emmy broadcast, the legendary Aretha Franklin (b. 1942) stepped in and provided a soulful live tribute performance of the aria (in the original key!), in a thrilling, non-operatic style uniquely her own.