The greatness of Giuseppe Verdi’s operatic music lies not only in the perfect balance between the instrumental dimension and the contribution of the text, which is almost permanently produced by Macbeth onwards, a prerogative that represents the macroscopic side, but also and above all in what it is the microscopic component, if one can say so, namely the arias, the duets, the recitatives, the cavatinas that make up the operatic work itself.
This means that the fascination and the involvement that causes listening to Verdi’s music is given by the stylistic and content perfection that is present in every operatic segment, effectively transforming every air into a “micro-work” in its own right, ideally made. Listening to Verdi means looking at a solid wall, observing brick by brick and knowing that every brick is practically indestructible.
Just listen to the eight operatic tracks of this program, which see protagonist Italian Roberto Scandiuzzi, one of the most well-known basses in the international scene, to realize this fact. Eight pieces covering a lapse of time of twenty-three years, from cavatina Infelice!… e tuo credevi from Ernani (1844) to aria Ella giammai m’amò from Don Carlos (1867), passing over aria Mentre gonfiarsi l’anima from Attila (1846), aria Come dal ciel precipita from Macbeth (1847), recitative Grâce! mon Dieu! from Jerusalem (1847), the scene Che mai narrasti!… from Luisa Miller (1849), aria E tu, Palermo from I vespri siciliani (1855) and recitative A te l’estremo addio, palagio altero from Simon Boccanegra (1857).
Cavatina taken from Ernani shows the arrival on the scene of Don Ruy Gomez de Silva, great of Spain, master of the castle where the operatic work is carried out for the most part. Verdi takes just over six minutes to outline the psychological dimension of this character who sees fiancée Elvira threatened by King Charles and in love instead of Ernani. On one hand Silva shows the strong side of his personality, of the one who is used commanding but, in the central part of the cavatina, without being heard by Charles and Ernani, he admits his own weakness, a disarming sensitivity (Ah! perché l’etade in seno/giovin core m’ha serbato!/Mi dovevan gli anni almeno/far di gelo ancora il cor). But the strong “mask” still has the upper hand and Silva returns to be a great of Spain, lord of himself and his castle.
Verdi was fascinated by human weakness, above all by that demonstrated by those who have authority and prestige and an operatic work like Attila is a very valid example in this sense and aria Mentre gonfiarsi l’anima a perfect evidence. The king of the Huns is about to destroy Rome, after having razed Aquileia, but in his tent he is the victim of a nightmare that tells the slave Uldino. Also here Verdi (with the faithful librettist Francesco Maria Piave) shows the two faces of man, with Attila who at first is terrified by the nightmare in which an old man appears who prevents him from going into Rome (In me tai detti suonano/cupi, fatali ancor, e l’alma in petto ad Attila/s’agghiaccia pe’l terror) and, soon after, as if reawakening (in the libretto there is the indication “rekindling”), the fear leaves space to the barbarian (Già più rapido del vento, Roma iniqua, volo a te).
Another topic often handled by Verdi in his works is that of man before death, of how he reacts, how he behaves, how he confronts it. And the scene of Banco, Come dal ciel precipita, who is going to fall victim to Macbeth’s assassins is typical. In notte ugual trafissero Duncano il mio signor, confides the man to his son Fleanzio, highlighting how the death of other people becomes an omen of his own death, mirror of an irreversible fate.
Master of human psychology and its many facets, Verdi has been able to outline like few other composers the dimension of remorse that is expressed here in recitative Grâce! mon Dieu! by Roger, brother of the Count of Toulouse, with whom the second act of Jerusalem opens. For Verdi the remorse is a test of bravery, a challenge with oneself, the worst guilt to expiate, as Roger recalls, now became a hermit, after having his brother killed by mistake: Ô jour fatal! Ô crime! Tombeau de ma victime, du fond de cet abîme, toujours je te revois.
Even the lack of understanding between fathers and sons takes centre stage of Verdi’s musical and psychological analysis (how can we forget the relationship between Alfredo Germont and his father Giorgio in Traviata?) and another example is the relationship between the count of Walter and his son Rodolfo in Luisa Miller, with the scene Che mai narrasti!… in which the parent is displeased knowing his son does not want to marry Duchess of Ostheim, but the most humble Luisa: Di dolcezze l’affetto paterno/a quest’alma sorgente non è…/Pena atroce, supplizio d’inferno dio sdegnato l’ha reso per me.
The role not only cultural, but also political of Verdi in the social mechanisms of Risorgimento are well known (the acronym VERDI, Viva Emanuele Re d’Italia, that means Long live Emmanuel King of Italy, written on Milan walls during Austrian occupation is famous) and among the different examples in the musical field there is aria E tu, Palermo, sung by the patriot Giovanni da Procida in I vespri siciliani, which condenses the poignant greeting of those who set foot back on their land in search of redemption and freedom: Chiesi aita a straniere nazioni,/Ramingai per castella e città:/ Ma, insensibili ai fervidi sproni,/Rispondeano con vana pietà!
Still the pain, the agony caused by the death of a loved one, as a father can prove it to whom his daughter dies; Verdi, as few ones, musically, supported by valid librettists (in this case Francesco Maria Piave) has been able to better describe this blinding suffering, as happens in Simon Boccanegra, when in the Prologue, the noble Jacopo Fiesco leaves his palace, shocked by death of the daughter Maria, in recitative A te l’estremo addio, palagio altero, with the painful instrumental accompaniment that if on one hand rises to a delicate funeral march (Il lacerato spirito/Del mesto genitore/Era serbato a strazio/D’infamia e di dolore), on the other it becomes a tormenting lullaby with which Fiesco seems to want to protect the eternal sleep of Maria, invoking her prayer (Resa al fulgor degli angeli/Prega, Maria, per me).
Finally, another peculiarity of the psychological aspects investigated by Verdi, that of unveiling, of giving rise to the human soul a trait previously concealed and that suddenly emerges from the inner folds. In this sense, one of the most involved characters is certainly Philip II in Don Carlo, initially described in a negative way because of his cynicism and ruthlessness to which he uses for “reason of state”. But in aria Ella giammai m’amò, which opens the fourth act, here is that the king shows all his bitterness in not having been returned of Elizabeth of Valois love (No, quel cor è chiuso a me,/Amor per me non ha…!), wishing to find at least peace and rest in the grave that awaits him at Escorial (Dormirò sol nel manto mio regal/Quando la mia giornata è giunta a sera;/Dormirò sol sotto la volta nera/Là, nell’avello dell’Escurial!). But it is only a moment, the entrance of the Grand Inquisitor will return him to his ruthlessness, trusting the old man his intention to put to death his son Charles.
Album notes by Andrea Bedetti
Giuseppe Verdi: Verdiana III
