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Opera Club #1 - La Traviata


CaffeineDiary

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I hereby call the first edition of Opera Club to order.  Subscribe here if you're interested. (Is the Chat board the right place for it?  Someone suggest a better board if there's a more appropriate one and I will move the thread.)

 

We'll be watching and listening to Verdi's La Traviata over the course of about 2 weeks, breaking it down a number at a time.  Tomorrow, I'll post some history and introductory notes, and then the real thing will start on Monday.  I'll be illustrating each number with links to YouTube videos, and will suggest others not on YouTube for those who really get bitten by the bug.  If you want to watch it on your own, it runs for just over 2 hours, so it's a fine movie night experience.

 

One note before we begin: one reason I chose La Traviata for the first opera club is because on July 8th, the Met in HD is re-broadcasting their 2008 staging with Natalie Dessay as Violetta.  It's likely that it will be playing in a theater near you, and both musically and dramatically this show is incomparable.  If you like the music (and you will), it will be a wonderful night out, and I strongly recommend seeing it if you can.

 

Questions are welcome, so feel free to interject them as we go and I'll try to answer as best I can.  I encourage other WTM posters who know more than me to contribute as well!

 

I will try to update this first post as we go with links to specific numbers.

 

I'm going to be illustrating this with different versions of the songs from different videos, but if you want to get a jump, the version I'll use as a reference is this one

 

 

with Anna Netrebko from 2005, the complete opera, with English subtitles.  This is basically the same staging as the Natalie Dessay version from 2008, with a different cast.  This is a "modern" staging with a very sparse set and somewhat timeless costuming.  This is not traditional; the "typical" setting for La Traviata is late 18th century France with lots of hoops and crinolines and corsets and white tie and tails, but in my experience this makes it feel very stuffy and unapproachable.  We'll no doubt see some of those examples as we go.

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What is Opera, and Why Is It So Weird?

 

This is a big topic and one that I'm not going to be able to handle in a simple forum post, so I'm going to unfairly summarize in a super brief way that is largely inaccurate but sounds good.  We can divide a lot of pre-20th century (Western) music into folk/popular music, and "high art" music.  For much of this millennium, most of the latter music was religious music.  With the Renaissance, high art music began to find secular expression.  A number of Italian philosophers (the camerata fiorentina) developed the idea, on basically no evidence whatsoever, that the ancient Greek dramas unified drama, poetry, and music and thus connected to the emotions of the audience in a deeper way than any of this crappy modern music people listen to nowadays.  Despite the substantial handicap of not actually having any Ancient Greek music to actually listen to, this group of academics inspired the first operas.  These were aristocratic, somewhat static, and centered around either ancient Greek themes (e.g., the Orpheus myth) or else telling Boring Important Stories of various kings and emperors.  This style of opera (and its descendants) is generally known as opera seria 

 

An Asteroid Hits Opera

 

Meanwhile, while everyone was busy not listening to opera seria, people in the street were actually watching and enjoying the puppet shows and masked performances of the Italian commedia dell'arte, which was light, fast, funny, and accessible to anyone who likes seeing guys punch other guys, which is pretty much everyone in Europe.  Around the late 1700s, librettos which were thinly adapted from commedia dell'arte began to be used for operas, mostly in Italian, known as opere buffe, or "funny operas."  Everyone in the world except for a few stodgy kings agreed that these were generally way better than the old style operas.  To the extent opera today still has any relevance or popularity, it's largely due to opera buffa saving its bacon.

 

Modernizing Opera

 

There are other styles besides seria and buffa. The two I'll mention here are the German school of Weber and later Wagner ("Archetypes ponce around in nature and weird stuff happens to them because SPIRITS") and the "verismo" style of Puccini and others ("Instead of terrible things happening to a King, they are happening to a poor person.")  Verdi's La Traviata is significant here because it may be one of the earliest operas that could be called verismo, telling as it does the tragic story of a non-noble courtesan, with nary a crown to be seen.

 

When opera works, it works because we care about both the drama in the story being told, and the music backing it.  In the best operas, the music is an invisible character on the stage, emphasizing, providing context for the drama, or sometimes even contradicting it (Wagner, whatever his other flaws, was a master of this, having a character on stage declaiming a set of words while the orchestra behind him kept a running musical commentary explaining that the character was lying to him- or herself. There's a beautiful example of this very dynamic in Act I of La Traviata that I'll point out when we get to it.)

 

What makes La Traviata work so well isn't that it's in one or another category, but its understanding of the breadth and depth of human emotion.  But more about that next time.

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Could this be a social group so all the threads are kept together?

 

I didn't get into opera until I started working on it and did the same show for weeks and did a few different shows.

 

There is La Traviata on Digital Theatre to rent for Ă‚Â£3.99

 

Also on itunes there is a Gyndebourne Opera podcast and one episode is on La Traviata.  

 

Also there is a Radio 3 Opera Guide Podcast episode on La Traviata.

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Could this be a social group so all the threads are kept together?

That would actually be really nice. It would make it easier to refer back or find something somewhere down the line. And maybe some reference threads with good books or other resources?

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Thank you CaffeineDiary for doing this.  After Robin puts up the new Book a Week thread, I'll link the gang there to this thread. I suspect that you might have a few interested folks who participate in that group but rarely look at other things on the chat board.

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I'm in!  I got interested in opera in Spring of 2013.  I'm lucky enough to have two opera companies in close proximity, and it's a day's drive to a third one that is committed to showcasing and developing lots of new works.

 

I saw La Traviata for the first time this spring--it was a classical staging--but the one I'd have given my eyeteeth to see (there are only a few photos of it) was from Arizona Opera in 2008.  It was a more modern staging and somewhat more edgy.  Here's a blog post about it:  http://www.mvdaily.com/articles/2008/05/traviata1.htm

The two leads on this would have been marvelous!

 

If anyone wants to plan ahead and catch something really marvelous, Fort Worth Opera is going to have a world premiere of JFK next spring:  http://www.fwopera.org/opera/jfk/  The only one of the cast I haven't heard is Matthew Worth -- the others are all wonderful.

 

Thank you CaffieneDiary for starting this thread.  I'll second the request to make this a social group.

 

 

 

 

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I'll vote against a social group. If we leave it on the chat board like the book a week thread, people will be inspired to drop in. For social groups, out of sight is out of mind. Putting a link at the end of this thread to the next thread will point us all in the right direction. :)

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I'm going to follow and yes La Traviata will be playing in my area. I have never seen an opera in my life and was already planning to attend the showing. This will be quite helpful.

 

I did discover that the Cincinatti Opera has free shows during the summer and hope to take my kids up there soon but am sort of nervous since I have no clue what to expect.

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Why, Exactly, Giuseppe Verdi Did Not Give A Damn What People Thought About Him

 
So. Verdi in the early 1800s is a young, middle class man interested in music.  He had to struggle to get any success - the only person who believed in him was a rich burgher from his small town: he sponsored Verdi's education in the Big City, encouraging him to keep at it even after the conservatoire rejected him.  He marries the burgher's daughter, Margherita, whom he adores, in 1831.   He begins writing operas, none of them particularly successful,
 
In 1838, his 1-year old daughter, Virginia, dies of an illness.
 
A year later, his 1-year old son, Ilicio, dies of an illness.
 
9 months later, Margherita dies of an illness.  At the time of her death, Verdi was trying to write a comedy.  This work was one of only two comedies he wrote, Un Giorno de Regno.  It was not a success; imagine the agony of trying to complete a comedy under such circumstances - it must have felt like an obscenity.  His wife's relatives, at the time, describe him as wanting only "to hide in some dark place and live out his miserable existence."  Verdi writes in a letter about 40 years later:
 

 

My small son fell ill at the beginning of April: the doctors could not discover what was wrong, and the poor child died painfully, in the arms of his desperate mother.  But this was no enough: a few days later the young girl also fell ill!Ă¢â‚¬Â¦and this illness also proved fatal!Ă¢â‚¬Â¦and even this was not enough: in the first days of June my young wife was struck down by violent encephalitis and on 19 June 1840 a third coffin left my house!Ă¢â‚¬Â¦ I was alone!Ă¢â‚¬Â¦alone!Ă¢â‚¬Â¦In the space of about two months, the three people most dear to me had vanished for ever: my family had been destroyed."
 
(Verdi's dates are wrong, but those who have grieved deeply understand that it is a state in which time has no meaning)
 
I focus on this episode in Verdi's life because La Traviata is an opera in which a young woman dies of an illness, and this was an experience that Verdi had seen, with his own eyes, more than once.
 
Later, While Living In Sin
 
By the 1840s, after achieving some fame through the success of his opera Nabucco and later works, Verdi cohabited happily with his lover (and, much later, wife) Giuseppina Strepponi, a soprano of some renown.  Verdi took some grief for this - his parents, for example, evicted him from their home - but by and large was not harassed about it.  Strepponi took more direct abuse from the townsfolk who disapproved of their living together. Once, however, Verdi's father-in-law dared to raise the subjec very obliquely  with him, asking, more or less, whether it was really wise to antagonize the townsfolk by his lifestyle choices.  In response, Verdi penned the following smackdown which is so modern, so bold, and so righteous in its fury that even in as a 21st century person it makes me want to stand up and applaud; that it was written in the mid-1800's is nothing short of astounding.
 

 

I have nothing to hide. In my house there lives a lady, free and independent, who, like myself, prefers a solitary life, and who has a fortune capable of satisfying all her needs. Neither I nor she is obliged to account to anyone for our actions. But who knows what our relations are? What affairs? What ties? What rights I have over her or she over me?  Who knows whether she is or is not my wife? And if she is, who knows what the particular reasons are for not making the fact public? Who knows whether it is a good thing or a bad one? Why should it not be a good thing? And even if it is a bad thing, who has the right to ostracize us?  I will say this to you, however: in my house she is entitled to as much respect as myself, more even.
 
It was only a couple of years after this letter was written that Verdi wrote the three operas that he is most well known for - Rigoletto, La Traviata, and Il Trovatore.
 
La Traviata, (literally: "The Fallen Woman") is the story of a strong (though ill), independent woman, a courtesan, who is frowned upon by polite society.  She is the master of her own house and her own purse, who falls in love, relinquishes that love voluntarily, and eventually dies of an illness, having sacrificed her own happiness selflessly for her lover's good name.  One never wants to assume that the author of a work is just writing their life into their works, but in this case, it's hard not to think that the way "polite society" treats women was very much on Verdi's mind.
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A Brief Summary Of The Plot

 

And now, on a high wire, without the benefit of a net, I will give you a brief summary of the plot of La Traviata.  I am not referring to the libretto, and am just giving you my inaccurate internet summary of the plot in what I hope is a mildly entertaining form.  There will be little to no musical analysis in this post, this is all just plot.

 

Before we begin, I will note that La Traviata is directly based off of Alexandre Dumas fils' book (and later play) La Dame aux camĂƒÂ©lias (The Lady of the Camellias), which was in turn a thinly-fictionalized account of the author's affair-slash-crush on famed country-girl-turned-courtesan Marie Duplessis. In the 20th century, this tale has been retold any number of times, but most notably in Greta Garbo's famous turn in Camille (1936) and, arguably, the 1990s hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold tale Pretty Woman.

 

ACT I

 

[There is a PARTY.]

 

Violetta: Hey, everyone, let's LIVE FOR PLEASURE and drink a lot.

Everyone: OK!

Friend: Hey, meet Alfredo, he really likes you.

Violetta: So does everyone else!

 

[Alfredo gives a toast.]

 

Alfredo: I'm shy.

Violetta: Give the toast for me, because I'd like that?

Alfredo: Va-va-voom!  "Here's to LIVING FOR PLEASURE." 

 

[Everyone DRINKS A LOT.]

 

[Violetta COUGHS.  This indicates that she is secretly DYING.]

Everyone: You ok?
Violetta: No biggie.

Everyone: Cool.

Alfredo: Someone should take care of you.  Like, say, hmmmmmmm mmmmmmmeeee?

 

[Violetta and Alfredo FLIRT HARMLESSLY until Alfredo CONFESSES HIS STALKY YEARLONG CRUSH.]

 

Violetta: You should forget me.  I'm not really into true love. [but she is LYING.]  Here, take this flower.  We can go out when you return it.

Alfredo: How about tomorrow?
Violetta: OK.

[Alfredo LEAVES.]

 

Violetta: I must be crazy.  I've got no time for love.  I must be ALWAYS FREE so I can LIVE FOR PLEASURE.

 

ACT II, SCENE 1

 

[Violetta is no longer LIVING FOR PLEASURE and instead she and Alfredo are living in a house in the country, ROLLING AROUND ON THE FLOOR A LOT, as Violetta SPENDS DOWN HER CASH RESERVES.]

Alfredo: I'm going out for cigarettes, be right back.

 

[Alfredo LEAVES]

 

[Germont ENTERS]

 

Germont: Hi, I'm Alfredo's dad, you brazen strumpet.

Violetta: What the hell, man? This is my house.  Nobody talks to me that way here.  Get lost.

[Germont is IMPRESSED by Violetta's DIGNITY.]

Germont: OK, let me speak plainly.  Everyone is scandalized by Alfredo sexing with you, and because of it his little sister's engagement is at risk.  You should leave him so that his family isn't hurt.

Violetta: You don't understand what you're asking.  I'm literally dying.

Germont: Pleeeease?
Violetta: Well, ok.  But I don't know how to break up with him.

Germont: Change your Facebook status to "It's Complicated?"
Violetta: He'd think I was joking.

Germont: Just text him.

Violetta: Good idea.

Germont: Cry, cry, oh miserable one.  I am so moved by your sacrifice.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not moved enough to withdraw my totally unreasonable request, but I'm seriously super impressed.

 

[Germont LEAVES]

 

[Alfredo ENTERS]

 

Violetta: Love me, Alfredo. love me as I now love you.   Farewell, Love!

[Violetta EXITS while TYPING ALFREDO A TEXT MESSAGE breaking up with him.]

Alfredo: Weird.

 

ACT II, SCENE 2

 

[There is a PARTY with politically incorrect DANCERS.  Violetta is there and so is Alfredo.  Alfredo is DRUNK and BITTER and GAMBLING and WINNING.]

 

Alfredo: I still love you.  Also I hate you.  And love you.  And hate you.  And I want my records back.

Violetta: Please stop.

Alfredo: Everyone, this woman spent money on me.  And now I want you all to witness that I have repaid her!

 

[Alfredo THROWS MONEY in Violetta's face, humiliating her.  Everyone at the party is UNCOMFORTABLE.]

 

Germont: Hi, just passing through and stopped at this party where I happened to see you reacting badly to the disaster I architected and wanted to tell you that I'm ashamed to call you my son.

Alfredo: I'm sad!

Violetta: You'll never understand.

 

ACT III

 

[Violetta is DYING and it TAKES A LONG TIME.  Before her death (barely) Alfredo comes back and APOLOGIZES and Germont feels GUILTY.]

Violetta: Wait, actually, I'm feeling better now.

[Violetta DIES.  Everyone in the audience is CRYING because the music totally SELLS IT.]

 

THE END

 

Next time: We finally get to the music and will discuss the prologue/overture.

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May I say THANK YOU SO MUCH for taking the time to do this. It's a brilliant idea! And you should seriously consider writing a book. I would buy it.

 

I hope you won't expel me from your class if I admit to a slight penchant for those older versions of operas with the opulent costuming and scenic backdrops. (I may even have a bit of a thing for corsets and crinolines, although I admit they aren't good for activities like escaping from burning buildings.)

 

 

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Dd and I watched Act 1 today. She really likes it. That's kind of weird for an 8yo, isn't it? But at 8 months of age she sat and stared at an orchestra playing for 45mins before she finally fell asleep, so maybe she just has an inbuilt thing for art forms for which tickets are expensive.

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I watched Act 1 because I wanted to see what Dean Martin meant when he told Judy Holliday her dress was like something out of Traviata. It is! Not only that, some other elements of the opera appear in the movie Bells Are Ringing, so I guess I'll watch the rest of the opera to see what other similarities I can catch.

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Thank you for that plot overview. You did a very good job at simplifying and making it understandable. I actually expected it to be much, much more complicated. I am feeling much less intimidated about the whole thing.

 

One question, I have not yet sat down to watch the whole opera. Is it expected that I will have done so by now? Or are we watching selected scenes first? I can go either way, I just don't want to get 'behind' and not contribute in a meaningful way.

 

And once again, Caffeine Diary, thank you for your work. You have put so much into this and I am grateful.

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There's no harm in watching the whole opera - I would say follow your bliss.  The whole thing is about 2 hours, so it's not a major investment.

 

My plan is to go, more or less, a song at a time, and I intend to illustrate (in most cases) with multiple renditions of the same number.  So you can watch the whole thing first and then go back to follow along later, or just follow along later.

 

That said, even for people only following along later, I would recommend watching the first act (after the orchestral prelude) in one sitting at some point.  One of things that's amazing about this particular work is the musical and dramatic velocity of that act.  Many operas are known, fairly, for having long stretches where not much happens - some call these longeurs, french for "boring parts".  The first act of La Traviata begins like a bullet shot from a gun and maintains that velocity both dramatically and musically for 45 minutes.  So by breaking it up song by song, I'll in fact be doing it a slight injustice, so watching the entire act at once is a good idea!

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Thank you for this CaffeineDiary! And thank you to Jane in NC too. I do spend time on the chat board but would probably have missed this if Jane hadn't mentioned it (and linked) on the book a week thread.

 

I'm going to watch later on my tv on the YouTube channel of my Roku. The sound and picture quality will be much better. In the meantime, I enjoyed your posts. You could seriously get young people interested in opera with that kind of plot synopsis. You should consider it. 

 

When I turned 40 I decided there were some things I was going to do that I wish I had done when I was younger. They weren't things like go jump out of an airplane or travel the world or go white water rafting. Nope. They involved getting "some culture", and two of the biggest were to read more classic books and to see opera performances. I'll be 60 later this year and am still reading and enjoying classics, but opera somehow got tossed aside (perhaps unexpectedly finding myself pregnant at 41 long after giving up had something to do with it). I'm so glad you started this thread/club. 

 

I do enjoy Verdi. While I've never seen any of his operas I have listened to the music, mostly from Aida. I used to play in the background it while ds was playing with Lego and he'd often ask for it if I forgot to put it one.

 

But I have a confession. La Donna e Mobile gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. My Italian grandparents had a record (33 rpm) of Italian songs, and would play it a family gatherings. That one always got everyone singing. :D

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I might be the Opera Club dunce, but we never worked out who the chap giving out the flowers was.

 

 

Lol, dd has just "died" gracefully on the kitchen floor.

 

That's Violetta's doctor.  He has lines in the third act.  In the context of this production, he's used (along with the clock) throughout the work to represent Violetta's impending death - that's a decision on the part of the director, it's not in the libretto/original staging, in most versions of La Traviata you wouldn't even see him outside of Act III.  I think it kinda works though.

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I just noticed this thread and am really enjoying it! Thanks, CaffeineDiary for taking the initative and doing this. Love the choice of Opera. I've seen parts of it and it's great to watch the full version (along with your wonderful summary!).  The Saltzburg Festival does some really interesting versions of well-known operas, such as the Magic Flute. 

 

If anyone wants to watch a couple excellent documentaries from BBC on opera singers, these are really good:

 

What Makes a Great Tenor   Hosted by Rollando Villiazon (sadly, the whole doc doesn't seem to be available on youtube anymore.  If you can find it anywhere, it is really good.)

 

What Makes a Great Soprano  Hosted by Kiri Te Kanawa    

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NUMBER #1 - PRELUDIO

 
Let's talk about the prelude, or overture, to La Traviata.  You can watch it in the video I linked to in the first post, or you can use these YouTube links which are prelude-only.  For purposes of this post, I'm going to use time markers from the "BBC Proms" version because it will free us from the distraction of watching Anna Netrebko be scared of a big clock.  And once again - and this is the last time I'll say this - I have no musical training and I'm totally ignorant and you should consider anything you read here to be nothing more than the ramblings of an amateur.
 
BBC Proms, conducted by Xian Zhang.
 
 
So you can hear an alternate, here's the Berlin Philharmoniker / Herbert Karajan version - more stately, a bit too slowly-paced for my taste, but very emotional.
 
 
We start with enigmatic, wandering strings, full of sadness - this is Violetta illness and her inevitable death: the first notes you hear in the opera are basically foreshadowing the end.  We are lost in this (beautiful, but disturbing) musical fog for about a minute, and then at around 1:20 (again, BBC Proms video timing) we settle in to this odd cadence:  a waltz-like "oom-pah-pah" rhythm in the bass, and then a descending, lyrical line in the strings:
 
post-44213-0-88064700-1435296348_thumb.jpg
 
That descending line with the dotted rhythm represents Violetta's love, and Violetta's loss.  You'll hear it again 2 acts from now, in the linchpin scene of the opera, and you'll also hear it going through your head all day if you listen to the Prelude and nothing else, because it sticks in your mind like that.
 
The love theme continues for another bar (it has more than that initial descending line) over the oom-pah-pahs, until suddenly it stumbles (at around 1:58), and everything grinds to an uncomfortable halt.  Even the oom-pahs stop.  What we get instead is the cellos, playing a triplet and then a quarter note, twice, sounding almost like a lawnmower trying to start.  To me (from now on, assume that anything I say is preceded by an invisible "to me") this is Violetta's illness - it sounds almost like coughing, and interrupts everything else with its foreshadowing.
 
post-44213-0-20726900-1435296358_thumb.jpg
 
 
The lawnmower revs a couple of times and then the music gracefully recovers its feet and the love theme resumes (2:17), only now there is this odd, mannered little addition in the violins:  triplets (2:21), with a rest between them, rising, and then tripping downwards like a brook (2:25).  It's vapid, polite, nice-girl music.  This is Violetta's public face - it smiles, it's graceful, and it's utterly lacking in depth.
 
post-44213-0-34057100-1435296366_thumb.jpg
 
Don't believe me?  At 2:48, the love theme drops away for a few seconds, and it's almost as if Verdi is taunting us - the music loses all interest.  It's a party we don't actually want to be at.  At 2:55 the love theme comes back, and then we spend the rest of the prelude flitting back and forth between these three states - love theme only, public face only, and both at the same time.  The prelude glides to a stop soon thereafter, and the stage is set for the story.

post-44213-0-88064700-1435296348_thumb.jpg

post-44213-0-20726900-1435296358_thumb.jpg

post-44213-0-34057100-1435296366_thumb.jpg

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Number 2 - Dell'invito trascorsa

 

(Note: all images linked in this post come from the score, which being written in 1853 has been out of copyright for a long time.  And anyway, I can no longer upload images for some reason, so I'm just going to link them instead.)

 

As with the prelude, you can watch the Netrebko version (properly, the "Willy Decker staging"), but I'm going to use a different interpretation for discussion of this number. The reason I keep avoiding the Netrebko version for the analysis is largely practical - it's really convenient to have a YouTube snippet that has only the song that we're listening to, and those are the timestamps i'll be using. But if you'd like to use the Netrebko version, that's fine! This song starts at 5:36 and goes to 10:12.

 

 

One special note here before we begin. The first act of La Traviata has an absolutely astounding velocity, in both dramatic and musical terms. I'm not prepared to call it unique, but it's certainly unusual in its incredible density of memorable music. You're going to be exposed to tons of strong emotion and at (at least) three lyrical, hummable, embed-in-your-head tunes in a mere 30 minutes. By cutting up the analysis the way I'm doing here, I'm intrinsically doing the work a disservice, and it will hurt the first act of La Traviata more than it might hurt other works. So while I don't think it's necessary to watch the whole 2 hour opera at once, you might want to watch the first act in one sitting, and then come back for the analysis sometime later. In the Netrebko/Willy Decker staging, the first act ends at 32:15.

This is largely a connective number, so I'm not going to go terribly deep here - there's not a lot of deep going on.

With a flourish, the music takes off like a shot - like a bullet from a gun, and it will maintain this pace for almost the entire act. The whole orchestra, in a rising flourish! A pregnant pause! Another happy flourish!

 

(Link to image)

 

The music here is party music! Dance music! People are dancing, gambling, drinking, having a good time! Everything is light and bouncy - this music would not feel at all out of place in the circus. Check out this bass line:

(Link to image)

That rhythm is going to be everywhere; it's the rhythm of Paris, the rhythm of the city, the rhythm of goings-on. bom-BOM-bom-BOM-bom-BOM-bom-BOM [repeat for a long time]. That's the rhythm of people for whom life is very light. If you keep your ear open through the opera, sometimes it will be in the foreground, as it in in this scene, but will appear where you don't necessarily expect it - someone will open a door, and you'll hear that in the distance.

This is an opera about a normal (well, ok, rich-normal) woman who has feelings that are at odds with her public persona. The music is going to signal us as those conflicts play out.

Violetta Valery, famous courtesan, arrives, and immediately announces her intention to LIVE FOR PLEASURE! (1:00). We're introduced to Alfredo (1:30), who seems like a nice Jewi^H^H^H^H ProvenĂƒÂ§al boy. There's a little action, still over the light music, which reduces to "Go talk to her, you dummy" / "Nah, I can't."

Around 3:00, we learn that Alfredo has a crush on Violetta, but she laughs it off. At 3:50 we can hear the music speed up, grow to a crescendo, and we're setting up to get into the (extremely famous) drinking song, "Brindisi". Alfredo is ready to demur, but Violetta says it would please her, so he's willing to give it a shot. Everyone in the crowd says they'll listen attentively. Let's ask the orchestra if this going to be a big deal. "Hey, orchestra - is this going be a big deal?"  EVERY INSTRUMENT IN THE ORCHESTRA AGREES THAT THIS IS GOING TO BE A BIG DEAL (4:45).

(Link to image)

Next up: we hear a toast that is a really big deal (and is probably a song you've heard in hundreds of TV commercials and films and not known what it was.)

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Number 3 - "Libiamo ne' lieti calici", a.k.a. Brindisi ("The Drinking Song")

 
Let's get to the drinking song!  In the Netrebko YouTube video this goes from 10:10 to to 13:17, but I suggest you don't watch it right now, because we're going to hear this song a few times and I want you to avoid fatigue.
 
For this one, I'm going to do something a bit different.  Rather than analyzing specific phrases of the song, I'm going to talk a little more generally about aspects of opera productions that differ between them, and I'm going to illustrate it with different examples that show different facets of how a performance practice can interpret the work.  I think this can make a huge difference in how one thinks about opera - if your first exposure to opera is a meh performance (and let's be honest, it so often is) it can sour you on the art form completely.  What I hope to do here is to illustrate what "good" and "bad" means (to me) in terms of singing, acting, and staging.
 
The reason I'm doing this with "Brindisi" is, twofold. First, I'm not sure how much there is to say about it.  It's a very straightforward, open song with very little subtext.  This is one of those songs where Verdi was chuckling to himself, saying "Yep, people will have this in their heads all day and won't be able to get it out."  It has a direct melody, a lyrical (in the sense of "song-like") nature,  issimple, and more or less has the rhythms and tunes of "For he's a jolly good fellow".  The lyrics can be found here, and reduce to "Alfredo and Violetta flirt while singing of drinking a lot of and living for pleasure."
 
(The key musical takeaway from this duet is pretty simple: both Alfredo and Violetta are singing not just the same song, but the exact same tune.  By the end of the song, they're literally finishing each other's lines.  This is Opera-ese for (at a minimum) "These people are in agreement" or, in this case, "These people really like each other."
 
Second, you've already heard it in multiple commercials and tv shows and movies.)
 
 
So.  Singing, staging, and acting. 
 
If you say the word "opera" to someone unfamiliar with it with no additional context, this is what they think of:
 
Amalie_Materna_as_Br%C3%BCnhilde_1876_-_
 
(Image credit: from Wikipedia, created in 1876, public domain).
 
Actually, they think of a slightly modified version of that - the lady is usually blonde, and heavier.  I'm not really referring here to the obvious body shaming where people talk about "the fat lady," although that is part of it.  The two attributes that are notable about The Opera Fat Lady Singing trope is (1) it's implied that she's not appropriate for the role, and (2) if you ever see her in a movie, cartoon, or other moving image she is static.  She plants herself on stage, stands still, and belts out the song.  This is really, really, really boring to watch even if you like the music.  Although this doesn't happen as much as people think it does, it does happen sometimes.  The number of people who can actually fill large opera house with their voice is incredibly small, so there has traditionally been a great tolerance for people who didn't (or couldn't) act, but who brought the vocal goods.  This seems to be diminishing over time, but you will still encounter it from time to time.
 
But let's think back to the Florentine camerata (remember them?)  The point of opera was not just to be pretty music, but to merge music and drama into a seamless whole that had more power than either standing alone.  As an experience, an opera that is staged with drama and verve is more engaging than one that is staged in a static and lifeless manner.  Conversely, if the people on stage can act as well as sing, then it will be even more engaging.  And obviously, if they can't sing, all the acting ability in the world won't help them.
 
So with those thoughts in mind, let's examine three and a half renditions of the Brindisi.  Frankly, by the third time you watch this thing the song is going to be wearing on you, so I am going to put the best first.
 
First, let's look at a version from Aix-en-Provence that has superb, dynamic staging, very good acting, one of the then-best sopranos in the world, Natalie Dessay portraying Violetta, and a tenor (Charles Castronovo) who in this case I think doesn't really showcase the song at its best (sorry, Charles.  All my personal opinion.)  As a bonus, this version also extends a minute or so into the next segment - you can watch it if you like, or stop when the song ends.
 
 
Now, let's look at another version of the opera.  With this one, I'm really going to twist your brain around.  This is the Willy Decker staging (so the same staging as the Netrebko version on the lead post of this thread), but with a completely different cast - Natalie Dessay (again) as Violetta, and Matthew Polenzani as Alfredo, staged at the Met (this is the one that will be rebroadcast in theaters come early July, I believe)
 
 
So we can contrast these various examples in several ways. 
 
First, we can contrast Dessay's singing against Netrebko's.  While both have excellent technique, the timbre of their voices is quite different - Netrebko's voice has a low, almost dusky register, and Dessay's voice rings like a bell.  Neither of these attributes is objectively better than the other, but you may find that you have a definitive preference.  You may even find one of them pleasant and another intolerable (more on that later).  The point is, you don't have to feel bad if you just don't like someone's singing.  You can like and not like whomever you want, and indeed finding opera performances sung by people whose voices you like is a key part of learning to like the art form.  
 
Regarding the tenors, I'd say that Polenzani's singing is better than Castronovo's in a few specific ways, notably that his enunciation is a bit sharper, and he generally projects a bit better. 
 
Second, we can compare the acting in the two Natalie Dessay clips against each other (and against Netrebko).  All things considered, at this point in her career Dessay was a much better actress than Netrebko, but even compared against herself you can see a difference.  I'm no expert, but I'd claim that this is a scene where the formalist staging of the Decker production worked against it - where in the Aix-en-Provence version Dessay is loose, flowing, and in the spirit of the song, in the Decker production she's just a little bit stiff, and I think it's the staging that makes her so stiff.  Likewise, I don't think anyone would question that Castronovo's acting is leagues ahead of Polanzani's in this particular scene.  Again, it could be the staging, or it could be the acting, or, it could just be the luck of the draw that these performances were the ones that were recorded, and on a given night one is better than the other.
 
Here are the questions I'd like you to ask yourself.  Did you enjoy one of those clips more than the other?  If so, remember that feeling the next time you see an opera clip that you like (or don't like), and remember that there are all types of productions being staged.  Seek out productions that are more like the things you like and less like the things you don't.  And if you're me, don't just seek out the best singers, seek out people whose singing you like who can also act.  (Not everyone feels this way.  There are people who go to operas with the score in their lap and just read it instead of looking at the stage, and will insist that the only thing that matters is the singing.  I will assert without proof that you are probably not one of these people, and you should be glad that you are not one of these people.)
 
Two more examples and we're done.  Let's talk a little more about singing.
 
Here are Luciano Pavarotti and Dame Joan Sutherland singing the same song in a stand-up concert (so it's not a full production, they're just going to stand on the stage and sing in this case - don't hold that against them!)  
 
 
I'm including this link simply because when I was unreasonably slagging off Castronovo above you might have reasonably been thinking "What are you talking about?  The guy sounds fine to me."  Pavarotti is a singer who had a voice for the ages, and a known phenomenon in opera is people not liking these newfangled singers just because they're not as good as [whoever the speaker was obsessed with].  Especially note his enuniciation - I'd be willing to bet that even those of you who don't speak Italian could still tell where each word began and ended.  So when I say that I thought Castronovo wasn't that good in that scene, that's the sort of comparison I'm making - "Good compared to some platonic model of what I think I like."  Lord knows that Castronovo's "not that good" is still singing on a level that would be beyond my reach if I had trained my entire life for it.
 
One last example and we're done for tonight.  Here's a style of singing that we haven't heard before.  This is Maria Callas, perhaps the most famous opera diva of all time, singing the same song with Francesco Albanesi.  Her style is distinctive, people love it, and to me it's like hearing fingernails scratching a blackboard.  To me her voice sounds like an intoxicated sheep being murdered by a theremin - "She's the Harvey Keitel of opera singers", said a friend of mine, thinking of that one scene in Bad Lieutenant, and that comparison resonates for me on multiple levels.  (The following link should jump to where Callas begins singing)
 
 
My point is not "Maria Callas is awful."(footnote 1)  My point is that most people think I'm wrong, and that's OK with me.  What you like and what the world likes can differ.  Especially in America, because of the class connotations that opera has, it's really easy to find yourself listening to things that you don't like and thinking "Well, since everyone else likes this particular opera or this particular singer, I guess I don't really like opera."  Don't fall into that trap.  
 
Trust your ears more than you trust anything anyone, including me, says.
 
Footnote 1: Although, seriously, she is.
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This is fabulous! I've only finished the study through the Prelude but I did watch Act 1. There are so many details that I would never have picked up on my own. Thank you!

 

My observations so far: Everything sounds better in Italian, I prefer the Prelude performed by the German orchestra (sounds more dramatic to me), and now I can understand the nuances of the music and the performance.

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  • 4 weeks later...
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OK, we're back!  Number 4 - Un di, felice, eterea

 
Starting at 13:17 on the Netrebko/Decker production.  For some reason, WTM won't let me upload images, so you're going to have to do with links.
 
A brief editorial note before I get started on this bit.  It's really easy to let your mental model of Alfredo in this scene look like this:
 
Ffr0Dsed_y8vZ1AO.png
 
I recommend against this.
 
La Traviata has a lot of gender things going on, but as I tried to establish in the "introduction to Verdi", in its time his works were radical in its portrayal of women as having agency, and for having an appreciation of the practically impossible situation many of them had to live in.  There are absolutely valuable things to be had from a "critical" reading of the dynamics between Alfredo and Violetta in these early scenes, but I think that those really only yield fruit if you first approach it head on and take their relationship at face value.  Verdi was no stranger to irony, or to sarcasm, or to bitterness, and I think that his Alfredo doesn't have those qualities because Verdi wants him to be as he comes across: as an innocent (at this point.  That will change as we go through the opera).  This may make this scene too sentimental for modern tastes, but I think you'll enjoy the ride more if you are willing to buy in to that naĂƒÂ¯vetĂƒÂ©.
 
The toast has been a success, and everyone goes off to drink, except, suddenly, Violetta is overcome with weakness! (uttering those syllables used only in opera -- "OhimĂƒÂ©!", pronounced "Oy may!", literally "Woe is me!").  "What's wrong?" everyone says, "Nothing, nothing," says she, and everyone wanders away.  Everyone except Alfredo, who is worried about her.  Violetta frets over herself (unaware that he's watching), but listen carefully to what's going on in the background in this simplified score (from around 14:00 - 14:45 in the video)
 
 
See the bass line?  It's the happy oom-pah band playing a march!  So while Violetta is contemplating her immanent death, the party is whirling on behind them (most orchestras play this muted as in this video, as if the music is coming from another room.)
 
So now we have some interplay between Violetta and Alfredo, with him coming closer and closer to confessing his love, and her stringing him along for a lark, until he finally lets it all go (in this role's big moment) at 15:35.  An acting note: Netrebko overplays this scene badly, responding to Alfredo's concern with deep drama.  In the better productions, Violetta is trying to laugh the whole thing off (which is what her music is doing.)  Here's Renee Fleming doing the same thing, much better (in a stodgier production)
 
 
Be that as it may - now the cat is out of the bag, and so Alfredo makes his big pitch.  This is his most famous aria from the opera - "Un di, felicĂƒÂ©, eterea". The summary of the song is: I saw you, I fell in love instantly, and ever since then this love has given me torment, torment and delight (a beautiful turn of phrase in Italian, "croce, croce e delizia").  In addition to being a famous aria, it's also an example of Verdi at the top of his game as a dramatist.  What you're going to see here is words and music working together in a way that is more powerful than either standing alone.
 
The melody of the song is important, and it echoes the love theme we already heard in the prelude (although in a simpler mode, as befits it coming from young and inexperienced Alfredo.)
 
Recall the "descending dotted rhythm" from the prelude (it's marked "con. espress" on the score.  If you can, try to put it in your mind.  Now compare it to what Alfredo is singing here:
 
 
It's different, but the same.
 
Violetta receives this confession of love and sends back her own song.  Now, they're singing the language of opera, so she tells him that she disagrees with words, but also with music.  The words (just going to echo the first lines here)
 
Ah, se ciĂƒÂ² ĂƒÂ¨ ver, fuggitemi,
If that's so then forget it, buddy,
Solo amistade io v'offro:    
Friendship is all I can give you.
 
And the music she puts this to is a light, flighty, and good-humored, literally sounding like birdsong and trilling.  She's not telling him off, she's letting him down easy.
 
 
"I don't take anything seriously", the music says.  And she ends with some heartfelt advice: "Forget me" (in Italian, "dimenticarmi") to the same tune.
 
Alfredo redoubles his efforts, and sings his love song back at her, redoubling his cries of torment and delight.  She, in turn, keeps up her defenses, "dimenticarmi, dimenticarmi" - but something is different.  Can you see what's different (ignore the tragically bad English translation on this score) (17:48)
 
 
Even if you can't read music and hear it in your head, you can see this.  She's singing the words "forget me, forget me", but she's singing his song - she's singing his rhythm, she's singing his melody, and that's telling us that although she's saying "forget me, forget me", she's thinking "torment and delight to the heart."  The flighty tune she had just 30 seconds ago is dropped on the floor and forgotten.  In opera terms, the music is telling us that these two characters are moving as one.  This is what love looks like to a musician.
 
Since I've already said I don't love Netrebko's performance, let's look at another one!  Here's Natalie Dessay and Charles Castronovo from the Aix-en-Provence festival in 2011.
 
 
That's it.  They're in love. Interrupted by the partygoers, they have some innocent flirting (she gives him a flower, says "Bring it back when it fades", which turns out to be "tomorrow" because apparently quality control amongst Parisian florists is terrible).  Alfredo leaves happy (20:30), and so does the rest of the party (did you notice how the party music underlies so much of this act?  It's an essential part of what gives the act its unspeakable velocity.)  The song Violetta is left alone with her thoughts (21:57), and her thoughts, as we'll see next time, will lead to an incredible aria.
 
Next time: "Sempre Libera", or "Ragazze vogliono solo divertirsi"
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Well, since no new opera suggestion has been forthcoming (yo! where is everyone?) I'm going to be watching 'The Bartered Bride' because they played the overture when we went to the orchestra the other night (hooray for E-reserve orchestra tickets!) and I liked it. :)

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  • 2 months later...

Ok, I joined up with this because I didn't know anything about opera and here I am, converted to an enthusiast. 
 

Dd had been making me watch it on Youtube, which almost never fails in sending me to sleep, but we went to see 'The Elixir of Love' live in the city and I was converted! They set it in rural Australia. It was hilarious listening to incomprehensible Italian, reading Aussie slang on the caption board!

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