The Sounds of Spain

Spain seemed to hold a special fascination for Giuseppe Verdi; it was apparently the only country he visited solely as a tourist. It is not difficult to see in the operas that he set in Spain some of the appeal of its history, its literature and its vibrant culture, familiar to Verdi since Spain had ruled much of Italy for large chunks of Italy’s history. Spain also had a long and contentious relationship with Austria (for much of Verdi’s life, the occupying force in his province of Lombardy) in their struggle for control of the Holy Roman Empire. It was notorious for the Inquisition, still a potent symbol of suppression of independent thought. Thus Spain provided Verdi with settings in which he could express his own longing for freedom and autonomy, revealed so profoundly in his signature choruses Va, pensiero and O Signore, dal tetto nation. In La forza del destino, the Italian soldiers are encouraged to defeat the occupying Spanish. In addition, Verdi drew on Spanish gypsy culture for characters such as Azucena, and was able to humanize their desire for liberty and independence without resorting to the usual gypsy clichés of rattling castanets and flashing teeth.

Ernani – Following the successes of three of his first four operas for Teatro alla Scala in Milan, Giuseppe Verdi hoped to reach a wider audience and accepted a commission from Teatro La Fenice in Venice. He chose for his vehicle the French play Ernani by Victor Hugo. Hugo had based much of his work on the true story of a Robin Hood-type figure in Spain during the reign of Don Carlos I (later crowned Charles V, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, and the grandfather of the title character in Verdi’s later opera Don Carlo). He chose for his librettist Francesco Maria Piave, who was to become one of his most frequent collaborators for the next two decades.

Ernani (the alias of a Spanish nobleman, Juan of Aragón, whose family has been banished by Don Carlo’s father) has joined a band of rebels and outlaws fighting against the king. Ernani is in love with Elvira, a young noblewoman he hopes to free from her elderly uncle, Silva, who intends to marry Elvira against her wishes. The opening of Act II is set in the grand hall of Silva’s castle on the planned wedding day. In Esultiamo!, the guests exult at the prospect of the marriage, and hope that everything will smile on Silva’s castle on such a beautiful day. Declaring that Elvira’s beauty is like a flower loved by heaven and earth, they sing that Silva is a handsome and gentle knight filled with wisdom and knowledge. They pray that the marriage will be a happy one and blessed with children as wise and beautiful as their parents.

At the beginning of Act I, in a rebel camp in the mountains near Silva’s castle, the outlaws whom Ernani has joined are found eating and drinking. With Eviva! Beviam!, they seek their pleasure in wine and gambling, for gold is vain treasure and their only friends are their muskets and daggers. They wonder why Ernani is so pensive and pale. Saying that they share a common fortune, they tell him to cheer up and at least find some pleasure in wine. Ernani thanks them for their affection and begs for aid. He tells them that his love for Elvira descended into his heart like a dewdrop into the bloom of a withering flower (“Come rugiada al cespite“). Saying that old Silva plans to force Elvira to marry him the next day, Ernani fears he will die of grief. He proposes they abduct Elvira, and his rebel comrades readily agree.

In La forza del destino, Verdi again employed Piave as librettist (the last of their eleven collaborations) to adapt the Spanish play Don Alvaro by Angel de Saavedra, which had been a great success in Spain in 1835 and launched the romantic movement in Spanish theater. Commissioned by the Imperial Theatre in St. Petersburg for an astronomical fee, the premiere was received unenthusiastically (due in large part to the nationalistic fervor among Russian composers and the public) but went on to greater success in Italy and the rest of Europe. The opera takes place in Spain and Italy in the 18th Century. Against the backdrop of a drawn out war, the military encampment scene in Act III is drawn largely from Schiller’s Wallenstein’s Lager rather than Saavedra’s play. A group of peasants begs for food for charity’s sake (“Pane, pan per caritá“), saying the war has destroyed their homes and fields. They are echoed by soldiers weeping for their mothers and wishing only to return home. The lively camp followers tell them to forget their mothers and girlfriends for it’s useless to think about the past. The young gypsy Preziosilla chides the soldiers for crying like babies and says they’ll only be laughed at by their comrades. Telling them to look around at the pretty faces eager to console them, she tells them to have a little common sense and take courage. Preziosilla, the soldiers and the vivandières rouse themselves with a lively tarantella, because in war only folly and madness can cheer them.

Premiered in Rome in 1853 (the same remarkable year that saw the premiere of La Traviata), Il Trovatore (The Troubadour) had a libretto by Salvatore Cammarano, the librettist of several other Verdi operas as well as Lucia di Lammermoor. Cammarano fell ill before the libretto was completed and his friend Emanuele Bardare undertook the task, generously refusing any printed credit as co-author. Based on the popular 1836 Spanish play El trovador by Antonio García Gutiérrez (also the playwright of the original play Simón Bocanegra), Il Trovatore is set in war-torn (again) 15th Century Spain. Even by the standards of the day, the plot has notable improbabilities; but the combination of two lovers dogged by a fearsome rival for the heroine’s affections, combined with a civil war between the Court of Aragón and the followers of a pretender to the throne, provided the sort intensified action and high emotion which Verdi could dramatize so well. In addition to the familiar soprano-tenor-baritone triangle, Verdi – always on the lookout for innovative ideas – enlarged on the character of the gypsy Azucena. In an early draft, before Cammarano had been engaged, Verdi clearly intended Azucena to be the main role; he planned to title the opera La zingara (The Gypsy). It was at Verdi’s direction that Bardare provided a new aria for Azucena in the second act (Stride la vampa!) and Verdi provided the author with clear directions for the aria, going so far as to write some of the lyrics himself (which remain in the finished score).

The first scene of Act II is set at daybreak in a gypsy encampment in the mountains. As the men take up their hammers and go to work at their anvils, they greet the sun pulling off the night’s dark cloak (“Vedi! Le fosche notturne spoglie“) and ask “Who is it who cheers the gypsy’s days? The gypsy girl!” The women bring wine as the men fall to work. Azucena remains apart, lost in memory of a roaring blaze (“Stride la vampa!“) and the untamed crowd howling as a disheveled and barefoot victim (her mother) is brought by guards to the bonfire. She shudders at the memory of the terrible death cry which echoes from the cliffs as the flames light the horrible faces of the mob.

In Act II, Scene 2, the Count de Luna has led his soldiers to the convent in which the heroine Leonora (believing her beloved troubadour Manrico to be dead) has sequestered herself. The Count intends to abduct Leonora and force her to marry him. Saying that Leonora is his, he praises her flashing smile (“Il balen del suo sorriso“), which conquers the stars’ rays, and her beautiful face which fills him with courage. He hopes his burning love will win her favor, and the sunshine of her gaze will disperse the storm in his heart.

La traviata is set not in Spain but in the Paris demimonde of the 19th Century. However, Verdi has considerable fun presenting a Spanish divertissement during a masquerade party at the house of Violetta’s courtesan friend Flora. Masqueraders present themselves as young gypsy women (“Noi siamo zingarelle“) who have come from far away to read the guests’ palms and tell their futures. They note that Flora has several rivals, and say her lover the Marquis is unfaithful. As Flora and the Marquis bicker about his infidelity, the fortune tellers advise everyone to throw a veil over the past. What’s done is done, and they should only pay heed to the future. Other masqueraders burst on the scene saying they are matadors from Madrid (“Di Madride noi siamo matadori“). They tell the story of the handsome matador Piquillo, who conquered five brave bulls in one day to win the heart of his Andalusian love. By such feats do matadors win the hearts of ladies, but here at the ball the men and women agree they need only make believe in order to win at the game.

Don Carlo was based on Schiller’s 1787 play Don Carlos and was originally set in a French libretto by Camille du Locle and Joseph Méry for its premiere at the Paris Opéra. The drama begins with a truce between Spain and France in 1558. The title character is the son and presumed heir of Phillip II, King of Spain, who had annulled his son’s betrothal to the French princess Elizabeth and married the much younger Elizabeth himself. The familial conflicts take place amidst the sweep of a revolt against Spanish occupation in Flanders (the Netherlands) and the height of the Spanish Inquisition.

In Act I, Scene 1, Don Carlos greets his long-time friend Rodrigo, the Marquis di Posa, and admits to di Posa that he and Elizabeth are secretly in love. Di Posa tells the prince that he should relinquish his hopeless love and help the oppressed people of Flanders, whom di Posa supports. Di Posa urges Carlos to ask heaven for strength. Together they ask God, who instilled love and hope in their souls (“,strong>Dio, che nell’alma infondere amor“), to kindle a desire for liberty in their hearts. They swear that they will live and die together, on earth and in heaven.

In the second scene of Act I, we are introduced to Elizabeth’s ladies in waiting, including the Princess Eboli. The ladies gather around the garden’s fountain and praise the huge, dense firs (“Sotto ai folti, immensi abeti“) which shelter them from the rays of the sun. One of the ladies admires the thousands of flowers covering the ground under the rustling pines, and the merry flight of the nightingale. The Princess Eboli leads the ladies in a favorite air, which tells of the gardens (“Nei giardin del bello“) of a beautiful Saracen palace where a lovely dancing girl covered in her veil gazed at the stars. The Moorish king praises her tender beauty and says he will give up his queen for her. The ladies join in the refrain that damsels should weave veils when the sun is in the sky, for it is veils that are dearest to love when the stars shine. The king asks the beautiful maiden to lift her veil, and again offers to give up his queen for her – and is shocked to discover that the maiden is the queen.

In Act II Scene 2, a huge crowd has gathered to witness an auto-de-fé – a ritual burning at the stake of heretics condemned by the Inquisition (a scene not in Schiller’s original play). The crowd exults that the day of rejoicing has dawned (“Spuntato ecco il di“) and praises the honor of Phillip, the greatest of all kings. Their love will follow him everywhere and never diminish, for his name is the pride of Spain and must live forever. Monks lead the condemned across the square, saying the fatal day, the day of terror, has arrived and they must die. But on the day of judgment the voice of heaven will forgive their sins if they repent at this final hour. As the excited mob again praises the glory of the king, a celestial voice is heard telling the condemned to let their souls fly to heaven to find peace in God.

Manuel de Falla studied music in Madrid. Following some early compositions (including several zarzuelas), he achieved his initial success with his prize-winning first opera, La vida breve (The Short Life) when he was 28. However, the Madrid performance of the opera promised to the competition winner never transpired and de Falla moved to Paris to advance his career. The encouragement and advice of new acquaintances such as Debussy, Ravel and Dukas finally led to the opera’s premiere in Nice in 1913, followed a year later by a great success at its Paris premiere. The libretto by Carlos Fernández Shaw (already the author of successful zarzuelas) tells the tragic story of Salud, a young gypsy woman in love with Paco, who betrays her to marry someone from his own elite class. With strong references to de Falla’s beloved Andalusian influences, the opera is almost a ballet-opera, with dance featured as much as singing.

In the second scene of Act II, well dressed men and women are gathered to celebrate Paco’s marriage. The guests dance and sing (Dance) in the courtyard of the bride.

In the first act of the opera, Salud fears that she is losing her lover Paco. Saying that those who laugh live, and those who weep die (“Vivan los que ríen“), she observes that the life of the poor is brief and bare. Her song of sorrow reminds her of her mother, as she envies the flowers which pass away before they know the suffering of life. Singing of a mateless bird that died in her garden, she says that death is better than a life lived alone. Only death is the cure for love deceived, bringing sweet relief.

The zarzuela is an enduring form of musical theater which continued in Spain (and later in Latin America) for over 300 years. Named for the Zarzuela, the royal hunting lodge of King Philip IV, the genre continued in a variety of forms until the Spanish Civil War of 1936. Zarzuelas were largely eclipsed by the dominance of Italian opera by the end of the 18th century, but achieved a rebirth during the second half of the 19th Century and the first decades of the 20th, zarzuela’s golden age. Mixing arias and choruses, along with verse and prose, popular song and broad comedy, zarzuela generally assumed two basic forms: the género grande, with well-developed and complex plots, and the género chico, one-act farces, usually much more rambunctious, and generally set in less respectable neighborhoods in Madrid. Zarzuela differed notably from operetta (aside from the latter’s devotion to the waltz) in its reliance on dance, particularly specific styles of Spanish dance such as the habanera, the seguidilla, the jota, etc. At the height of the craze for Viennese operetta and American musical revues in the early 20th Century, Spanish composers such as Vives and Torroba retaliated by looking back to what they considered the more romantic time of Madrid in the 19th Century.

Amadeo Vives was an early pupil of Felipe Pedrell, the father figure of 20th Century Spanish music under whom de Falla and Torroba also studied. Vives wrote over 100 stage works as well as concert pieces, solo and choral songs. Doña Francisquita (1923) remains his best known piece, one of the few zarzuelas which has succeeded abroad. The libretto is by Federico Romero and Carlos Fernández Shaw (the librettist of La vida breve and, with Romero, of Luisa Fernanda as well). Its loving evocation of 19th Century Madrid is well captured in the Coro de Románticos. On a quiet street in Madrid lit only by a single streetlamp, the young men ask where happiness and beauty go. Declaring that love is no friend of the day, they beg the beautiful young women to join them under their capes. The women reply that love doesn’t frighten them and they will love whom they like, but as the darkness prevents them seeing if the men are handsome, they should go away. The romantics beg for the moon and stars to reveal that they are gentlemen, but the teasing women tell them that they fear the kisses that await them under the capes. Saying they ask only for love, the women surrender to the men’s entreaties and the mysterious night of trembling stars. As the couples slowly drift away, the women sigh, and the men respond that when love sighs, soon it will kiss.

The composers of the next two selections, Tomás Bretón and Ruperto Chapí, studied together at the Royal Conservatory of Madrid, which in 1872 awarded each of them first prizes in composition. The two students were to remain rivals, and despite their having written operas and symphonic works, each is best known today for their zarzuelas.

In “Tiene razón Don Sebastián. . . Una morena y una rubia” from the género chico zarzuela La Verbena de la Paloma, Bretón gives us the viewpoint of Don Hilarión, a 70-year old reprobate who says that his friend Don Sebastián is right that Hilarión is a randy old man – but if he likes the daughters of Eve, and feels like he is a boy, what is he to do? He tells of a blond and a brunette, two daughters of Madrid, whom he cannot resist. They go out of their way to see him happy, waiting for him to decide which he likes more. If it costs him money to fit them out, does he worry that they love him only for his money? Not at all!

Las hijas del Zebedeo by Ruperto Chapí is likewise of the género chico style. In this farce set in Madrid, the lively heroine Luisa sings a Carcelaras (a form of traditional Andalusian gypsy song) as a lighthearted complaint about the pains caused by her lover. When she thinks about the keeper of her love, her enchanted senses make her dizzy. She boasts of the many girls who want him, but she wants him all for herself. She dies of love when he looks at her, and turns to jelly when he sighs.

Reveriano Soutullo Otero and Juan Vert Carbonell were each already established composers when they began a famous musical partnership in 1919, which continued until the latter’s premature death in 1931. Soutullo and Vert’s El Ultimo Romántico (The Last Romantic) was their final success together. In “Bella enamorada” (“Beautiful admirer“), the young aristocrat Enrique sings of a love that he cannot live without. On this mysterious night of love, he calls to the lady dwelling in the shadows to approach him and tell him who she is. He wants to live by seeing her again, and recalls a distant love that never will return.

Federico Moreno Torroba (another pupil of the influential Pedrell) had a lengthy career composing, conducting and producing. Besides writing many symphonic and instrumental pieces, he composed for opera and ballet before his success at zarzuelas, of which he wrote over 80. The most famous of them all, the zarzuela grande Luisa Fernanda has a libretto (also by Romero and Shaw) set in the 1868 Republican revolution. Against this dramatic backdrop of war and class struggle is set a romantic triangle. However, the Mazurca de la Sombrilla (Parasol Mazurka) steps away from the melancholy drama for a moment and shows us the young men of the town romancing the ladies on their way to church to ask St. Anthony to send them sincere love. The young men praise the señoritas‘ beauty and declare they are Spanish gentlemen. They ask the women to open their parasols so the sun doesn’t die of jealousy, and all declare that under the shade of a parasol, love sings softly.

Carmen was based on a short novel by Prosper Mérimée to a libretto by Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halévy. Bizet had begun composing instrumental works before devoting his career to stage works. He had written six operas by the time of Carmen. He died tragically young (at 36) on the night of the 33rd performance of Carmen, just as it was poised to bring him worldwide fame, eclipsing the disappointing critical response it received at its premiere.

The gypsy Carmen charms the young officer Don José into helping her escape arrest, thereby landing Don José in jail for his dereliction. Searching Carmen out after his release, Don José finds his passion is in conflict with Carmen’s fierce independence. Jealously fighting with her suitors, first the toreador Escamillo and then his own lieutenant Zúñiga, he is forced to flee to the mountains with Carmen and her smuggler cohort. Ultimately rejected by Carmen, who has left him for Escamillo, Don José stabs her.

In the first act, the men wait outside a tobacco factory. Singing that the bell has rung (“La cloche a sonné“), they wait for the women to return to the factory so they may follow the dark cigarette girls, murmuring words of love to them. The factory women appear, all smoking and following the smoke through the air with their eyes. As the smoke rises to the heavens (“Dans l’air nous suivons des yeux“), it goes to their heads and lifts their spirits. As they compare the smoke to the conversation and vows of lovers, the men look for Carmen. As she enters, they crowd around her and ask when she will love them. In the Habanera, Carmen replies that she doesn’t know – perhaps never, perhaps tomorrow – but certainly not today. Love is like a rebellious bird that no one can tame, and it’s a waste of time to try; love is a Bohemian child and has never known any law. If they don’t love her, perhaps she’ll love them. And if she loves them, then they should watch out for themselves!

Don José has kept the flower that Carmen threw to him at their initial meeting. On his release from prison, he pulls the flower from his tunic and sings to Carmen that “this flower that you threw to me” (“La fleur que tu m’avais jetèe“) stayed with him in prison. Its scent would make him drunk with the memory of her, and he cursed his fate to have met her. But he could feel only a single desire: to see Carmen again. One glance from her, and she had possessed him.

At a tavern on the outskirts of Seville where Carmen is relaxing among her gypsy friends and soldiers from the town (while Don José languishes in jail), a crowd is heard cheering the toreador Escamillo for another triumph in the ring. Escamillo returns their toast (“Votre toast“) and says soldiers and bullfighters can understand each other – their pleasure is in combat. Recalling the arena full of fans cheering his courage, he says that while fighting he dreams of the dark eyes watching, and the love that is waiting. Re-enacting the fight, he evokes the moment of silence when the furious bull leaps and struggles, before the fight is won. Carmen’s friends Mercedes and Frasquita woo Escamillo, but his attention is won by Carmen.

Contributed by TONY ARN