Gaetano Donizetti

We got to try out some of the repertoire.

Gosh, the Donizetti songs are really hard.

But I got it out of the way.

I learned it.

The Silent Woman is a rowdy, cruel farce about the tricks played on a wretched old man, unable to endure noise, and subjected to all manner of torments, in order that he be compelled to renounce a young woman, who, to assure a lover a monetary settlement, plays the shrew so successfully that the old man is only too willing to pay any amount of his wealth to be rid of her.

It is much like the story of Donizetti's Don Pasquale, and the dramatic consequences are to all intents the same.

There is, in reality, nothing serious or genuinely based on musical inspiration in the opera, the best features of which are certainly set pieces, some rather adroitly polyphonic, and a charmingly orchestrated overture described in the score as a potpourri.

A tenderer note is struck only at the point where, as evening falls, the old man drops off to sleep.

But she entered this competition to sing with the New York Philharmonic.

Yes, and there were 300 other vocalists alone, and she sang some spirituals, and she sang this Donizetti aria, O mio Fernando, which became a kind of go-to piece for her to show off her voice.

And she made it to the finals, and then she got called that they were not even going to hold finals.

She was already the winner, they had decided.

But she could do, she's a sfogato, so she could sing anything written for the female voice.

She could do Wagner, she could do Rossini, she could do Donizetti, she can do Legato, she can do, she could sing deep chest tones, she could do high notes all the way up to where the queen of the night lives.

I mean, she could do anything with the voice and it was so extreme.

Then I started watching about her.

The only acquaintances I intend to make here are musical ones.

That I may leave nothing incomplete, for instance, Frodar, who does not sing in public, Donizetti, Coccia, etc.

I now conclude by a few words to you, dear father.

You write to me that you disapprove of my going to Sicily.

They are trifles, certainly, but they show the lamentable condition of the people.

I have even gone so far as to feel provoked with the perpetual smiling aspect of nature, when in the most retired spots, troops of beggars everywhere assailed me, some even persisting and following me a long way.

It is quietly seated in my own room using down on the bay and on the Vesuvius that being totally alone with them I feel really cheerful and happy today we are to ascend the hill to visit the Colum Doli Monastery and tomorrow if the weather permits we proceed to Protida and Ischida I go this evening to Madame Fodor's with Donizetti Benedict etc she is very kind and amiable towards me and her singing has given me great pleasure for she has wonderful facility and executes her fiori torre with so much taste that it is easy to see how many things Sontag acquired from her especially the mezzo vacce which Fodor whose voice is no longer full and fresh most prudently and judiciously introduces into many passages as she is not singing at the theatre I am most fortunate in having made her acquaintance personally the theatre is now closed for some weeks because the blood of St Januarius is shortly to liquefy what I heard at the opera previously did not repay the trouble of going the orchestra like that in Rome is worse than in any part of Germany and not even one tolerable female singer the Tamburini alone with his vigorous bass voice imparted some life to the whole those who wish to hear Italian operas must nowadays go to Paris or London heaven grant that this may not eventually be the case with German music too I must however return to my witches so you must forgive my not writing any more today this whole letter seems to hover in uncertainty or rather I do so in my vapris night whether I am to introduce the big drums or not Zinken Glaben und Wirth's Klapperstucke seem to force me to the big drum but moderation dissuades me I certainly am the only person who ever composed for a scene on the broken without employing a piccolo flute but I cannot help regretting the big drum and before I can receive Fanny's advice the vapris night will be finished and packed up I shall then set off again on my travels and heaven knows what I may have in my head by that time I feel convinced that Fanny would say yes still I feel very doubtful and at all events a vast noise is indispensable oh Rebecca can you not procure the words of some songs and send them to me I feel quite in the humour for them and you must require something new to sing if you can furnish me with some pretty verses old or new gay or grave I will compose something in a style to suit your voice I am at your service for any compact of this kind pray do send me wherewithal to work at during my journey in the inns now farewell to you all may you be as happy as I ever wished you to be and think of me Felix End of section 11 Section 12 of Letters of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdi from Italy and Switzerland This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Letters of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdi from Italy and Switzerland Translated by Grace Wallace May 17th through May 28th 1831 Naples May 17th 1831 On Saturday the 14th of May at 2 o'clock I told my driver to turn the carriage We were opposite the temple of Terrace at Paestum the most southern point of my journey The carriage consequently turned towards the north and from that moment as I journey onwards I am every hour drawing nearer to you It is about a year now since I travelled with my father to Deiso and Leipzig The time in fact exactly corresponds for it was about the half year I have made good use of the past year I have acquired considerable experience and many new impressions Both in Rome and here I have been very busy but no change has occurred in my outward circumstances Until the beginning of the new year in fact so long as I am in Italy it will probably be the same This period has not however been less valuable to me than some when outwardly and in the opinion of others I have appeared to make greater progress for there must always be a close connection between the two If I have gathered experience it cannot fail to influence me outwardly and I shall allow no opportunity to escape to show that it has done so Possibly some such may occur before the end of my journey so I may for the present continue to enjoy nature and the blue sky during the months that still remain for me in Italy Without thinking of anything else for there alone lies true art now in Italy there and in her monuments and there it will ever remain and there we shall ever find it for our instruction and delight so long as Vesuvius stands and so long as the balmy air and the sea and the trees do not pass away In spite of all this I am enough of a musician to own that I do heartily long once more to hear an orchestra or a full chorus where there is at least some sound for here there is nothing of the sort This is our peculiar province and to be so long deprived of such an element leaves a sad void The orchestra and chorus here are like those in our second-rate provincial towns only more harsh and incorrect The first violinist all through the opera beats the four quarters of each bar on a tin candlestick which is often more distinctly heard than the voices It sounds somewhat like obligati cassinets only louder and yet in spite of this the voices are never together Every little instrumental solo is adorned with the old-fashioned flourishes and a bad tone pervades the whole performance which is totally devoid of genius fire or spirit The singers are the worst Italian ones I have ever heard anywhere, except indeed in Italy, and those who wish to have a true idea of Italian singing must go to Paris or to London.

Even the Dresden company, whom I heard last year in Leipzig, are superior to any here.

However, he died at 19 and his career was over almost before it had begun.

Meanwhile, audiences in Spain were listening increasingly to Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti and later Verdi.

There were attempts to establish opera in Spanish, but the distinction between opera and the native theatrical forms could be rather blurred.

One early 19th century example, El Rapto by Tomás Genovés, was announced in 1832 as an opera bufa en español, although its spoken dialogue places it very close to Zarzuela.

Spain was simply part of the European musical landscape.

What is striking, though, is how many different strands of that landscape have survived.

The Teatro Real in Madrid opened in its present form in 1850 with Donizetti's La Favorit, but the site had already been associated with opera since the 18th century.

Barcelona's Gran Teatre del Liceo opened in 1847, financed not by the royal court but by private subscription, a reflection of the city's very different social and political landscape.

SINGING IN ITALIAN

Kotrubas was also a sublime belcantista, and in the Donizetti soubrette parts in particular she was absolutely ne plus ultra.

She recorded Elisir d'Amore, as she did a number of her roles, And that recording is delightful, but it's marred by the presence of a certain Spanish tenor singing the role of Nemorino, a part that he never portrayed on stage and for which he is not particularly well qualified.

But that recording followed performances at Covent Garden.

Um, most people don't know Mercada- Mercadante, so they don't know where to put him in the timeline or in the style.

I think we understand that Donizetti begins to get heavier than Rossini, for example.

Yes.

Um, and that Verdi obviously is the next level, you know?

Because, eh, eh, we, uh, uh, we think bel canto is like sung for Rossini or-

Mm

... for this kind of Donizetti, but, eh, the, an important tenors like, uh, Pavarotti sing Maria Stuarda or, or sing, eh, sing, um, [clicks tongue] come e- come si chiama li l'altro? Uh-

Lucrezia Borgia? Yeah.