THE SONG OF TRIUMPHANT LOVE
Love and pathos, heart-wrenching passions and violent tensions. These are some of the elements present in “The Song of Triumphant Love” by the great Russian writer Ivan S. Turgenev. It is a tale in 14 parts written in 1881 in the form of Italian Renaissance novellas. The content itself is inspired by life in Italy. Set in 16th-century Ferrara, at the time of Ariosto, the novella tells the story of love and magic that binds the three protagonists: two inseparable friends who fall in love with the same girl, in a fantastical context, a constant element in much of Turgenev’s work. The supernatural or at least magical motif of the story prompted me to take both the writing and staging to a decidedly fantastical level. This work was first performed at the Teatro Coccia in Novara on December 12, 2014.
The score brings together a cantabile of dodecaphonic matrix with true borrowings from nineteenth and early twentieth-century musical theater: arias and, generally, closed numbers that emerge in the score like monoliths in the boundless desert of tonality absence. Moreover, the choice to adapt Ivan S. Turgenev’s “The Song of Triumphant Love” into an opera stemmed primarily from the temporal and spatial displacement of the story, set in Ferrara in 1542, despite the author being Russian and living and operating in the nineteenth century. This obliquity is the main criterion that favored the translation of the story into opera and which – I believe – continues to represent the founding characteristic even in the recent version in the form of a sung ballet recently staged in Cuba, for the Habana XXI ensemble, in collaboration with Danza Contemporánea de Cuba, on the initiative of Nathalie Marin.
While refraining from the temptation to reconstruct the atmosphere of the sixteenth-century courts in Italy, and striving not to betray a rigorous historical-musical perspective, the score aims to interpret in the present the complexity of musical influences, emblematic of that period. I have thus diversified compositional languages, starting from the melodic and vocal heritage of the Renaissance period, managing to bring together a series of seemingly distant worlds, but which — thanks to cinema (and therefore film music) — become decidedly reconcilable through the use of the “genre”.
So, with swift leaps, when the story takes on the dark hues of noir and tragedy, thinking of Hitchcock — a great master of genre storytelling — becomes inevitable. In this case, the music of Bernard Herrmann (his unmistakable sound, a certain convulsive use of strings) is capable of summarizing an entire poetics of thriller and suspense. The smallest sample of such material is capable of germinating meaning in any other context, even the most distant.
However, without the expert guidance and patient, tenacious care of Nathalie Marin, this work would likely have floundered the day after its Italian debut. Instead, it has been traveling and being heard around the world for years thanks to her orchestral direction.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Nath.
Paolo Coletta © 2024
SYNOPSIS
In 1542 Ferrara, Valeria, a young woman, finds herself entangled in a love triangle between two friends: Fabio and Muzio. Fabio offers her pure and radiant love, while Muzio tempts her with turbulent and sensual affection.
After marrying Fabio, Valeria seems to have found marital bliss. Meanwhile, Muzio embarks on a journey to Asia, where he learns magical arts. Upon his return, he uses these powers to seduce Valeria, awakening an internal conflict between soul and body, spirit and matter. Despite her love for her husband, Valeria gives herself to Muzio during a passionate encounter, drawn to the mysterious “chant of triumphant love” he performs with an enchanted violin.
Following her experience with Muzio, Valeria is filled with deep concern. She returns to pose as a model for a painting by Fabio, depicted as Saint Cecilia, but her resemblance to the icon of spiritual purity seems to have faded. Only Muzio’s death at the hands of Fabio appears to restore balance in Valeria’s life, returning her lost innocence and reestablishing her resemblance to Saint Cecilia. However, it is a fleeting peace. One day, seated at the organ, Valeria feels an irresistible urge to play the “chant of triumphant love,” recalling the moment when she surrendered to Muzio. In that moment, she also senses the heartbeat of a new life within her, a sign of a destiny yet to be fulfilled.