#Italian Composer Gioachino Rossini
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opera-ghosts · 9 months ago
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OTD in Music History: Legendary Italian opera composer Gioachino Rossini (1792 – 1868) would be celebrating his 58th birthday today if he were still alive to blow out the candles on a cake. Wait, what? Well, every great musical figure has a birthdate – but very few were born on February *29th*. Rossini held the rare distinction of being a “leap year” baby, which means that although he lived on Earth for 76 full rotations around the Sun (an impressive run back in the 19th Century), he nevertheless died of age-related illnesses before he ever had a chance to celebrate his 20th birthday. This quirk of the modern calendar also means that technically speaking, Rossini managed to compose all of his operas and settle into a long and comfortable retirement before his 10th birthday even rolled around… and you thought W.A. Mozart (1756 – 1791) was the greatest prodigy in musical history! PICTURED: A c. 1960s real photo postcard showing the elderly Rossini as he would have appeared shortly after celebrating his 18th birthday (in his late 60s).
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bluehome91 · 5 months ago
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Teatro di San Carlo
The Teatro di San Carlo is one of the oldest opera houses in Italy. Completed in 1737 in the city of Naples, the opera house is still one of the premier opera venues in Europe. Its construction was a testament to Naples' history as one of the key spots for the development of opera as we know it, hosting performances from famous composers like Gioachino Rossini and Giuseppe Verdi. The Naples opera house is also renowned for its architecture and design, reflecting the Neoclassical style popular during the 18th century. A rebuild and modern adjustments were made after a fire in the early 19th century gutted the San Carlo structure
Opera is one of Europe's most important artistic traditions. It is also a fun way for people to reconnect with the past. Of course, if you're hoping to participate in one of Western civilization's oldest still-active musical art forms, what better place to do it than in Europe's oldest still-active theater?
The Teatro di San Carlo is an 18th century opera house that has watched over Naples, Italy for nearly 300 years. So, not only is Naples the guardian of true Italian pizza, but it's also home to one of the greatest architectural monuments to one of Italy's favorite art forms. Bravo Napoli, bravo!
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whencyclopedia · 11 months ago
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Gioachino Rossini
Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868) was an Italian composer of around 40 operas, including the comic operas The Italian Girl in Algiers and The Barber of Seville. Rossini championed melody and beautiful singing over operatic drama, rattling out sensational hit after hit until his early retirement at 37. His innovative work was influential on those who followed, notably Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901).
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pharaohgargamel · 1 year ago
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Топ 10 лучших музыкальных произведений 🎵😺
Top 10 best music🎵😺
Сегодня я решил написать статью о моей любимой музыке.
Это в основном классическая музыка хотя есть и просто известные композиции. В этой подборке конечно же не все мои любимые композиции а только 12 из них.
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Today I decided to write an article about my favorite music.
This is mainly classical music, although there are also well-known compositions. In this collection, of course, not all of my favorite tunes, but only 12 of them.
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1. "Пляска смерти" (фр. Danse macabre) - Камиль Сен-Санс.
Красивая музыка совершенно не имеющая никакого отношения к своему названию. У многих славянских людей она ассоциируется в первую очередь с песней из мультфильма "Незнайка", однако полный её вариант совсем непохож на это. Музыка написана Французским композитором Камилем Сен - Сансом в 1874 году.
2. Влтава ((Vltava, также известная под немецким названием Moldau) - Бедржих Сметана
Композиция из цикла "Моя родина" написанная в 1874 Чешским композитором Бедржихом Сметаной.
3. "Ученик чародея" (фр. L'Apprenti sorcier) - Поль Дюка.
Композиция написана в 1897 году. Однако наиболее широкую известность принесло музыке использование в музыкальном анимационном фильме «Фантазия» (1940). Самое известное произведение Французского композитора Поля Дюка.
4."3 часть концерта для флейты с оркестром" Карла Филиппа Эммануила Баха.
Композиция написана в 1738-40 годах Немецким композитором Карлом Филиппом Эммануилом Бахом.
5. Увертюра к опере "Свадьба Фигаро"( - Вольфганга Амадея Моцарта.
Композиция к известной опере написанная в я 1786 году Австрийским композитором Вольфгангом Амадеем Моцартом.
6. Сюита из мюзикла "Вестсайдская история"(англ. West Side Story)  - Леонард Бернстайн.
Сам мюзикл добыл свою популярность именно из за мелодий. композиция написана в 1957 году, Американским композитором Леонардом Бернстайном.
7. Увертюра к опере Сорока - воровка"(итал. La gazza ladra) - Джоакино Россини.
Написанна в 1817 году Итальянским композитором Джоакино Россини.
8. 2 часть "Шотландской симфонии" - Феликса Мендельсона Бартольди .
Написана в (1830—1842) годах Немецким композитором Феликсом Мендельсоном Бартольди.
9. 5 симфония - Людвиг Ван Бетховен.
Всемирно известная композиция написанная в 1807 - 1808 годах Немецким композитором Людвигом Ван Бетховеном.
10. "Фантазия и фуга соль минор" - Иоганноа Себастьяна Баха.
Одно из всемирно известных органных произведений написанное в 1708-1717 годах.
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1. "Dance of death"(fr. Danse macabre) - Camille Saint-Saens.
Beautiful music that has absolutely nothing to do with its name. For many Slavic people, it is associated primarily with the song from the cartoon "Dunno", but its full version is completely different from this. The music was written by the French composer Camille Saint-Saens in 1874.
2. Vltava ((Vltava, also known by the German name Moldau) - Bedrich Smetana
Composition from the cycle "My Motherland" written in 1874 by the Czech composer Bedrich Smetana
3. "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" (French L'Apprenti sorcier) - Paul Dukas
The composition was written in 1897. However, the music was most widely known for its use in the animated musical film Fantasia (1940). The most famous work of the French composer Paul Duc.
4. "3rd movement of the concerto for flute and orchestra" by Carl Philipp Emanuela Bach.
The composition was written in 1738-40 by the German composer Carl Philipp Emmanuel Bach.
5. Overture to the opera "The Marriage of Figaro" - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
Composition for the famous opera written in 1786 by the Austrian composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
6. Suite from the musical "West Side Story" - Leonard Bernstein.
The musical itself gained its popularity precisely because of the melodies. the composition was written in 1957 by the American composer Leonard Bernstein.
7. Overture to the opera Magpie the Thief"(Italian: La gazza ladra) - Gioachino Rossini.
Written in 1817 by the Italian composer Gioachino Rossini.
8. Part 2 of the "Scottish Symphony" - Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.
Written in (1830-1842) by the German composer Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.
9. 5th symphony - Ludwig van Beethoven.
World famous composition written in 1807 - 1808 by the German composer Ludwig van Beethoven.
10. "Fantasy and Fugue in G minor" - Johann Sebastian Bach
One of the world famous organ works written in 1708-1717.
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На этом я кончаю свою подборку музыкальных композиций. Надеюсь вам понравиться. Это моя первая статья в таком роде, поэтому возможны кое какие неточности. Очень жду ваших комментариев! Отдельное спасибо тем кто дочитал до конца!✨😃😺🎼🎵
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This concludes my selection of musical compositions. I hope you will enjoy. This is my first article of this kind, so there may be inaccuracies. I look forward to your comments! Special thanks to those who read to the end!✨😃😺🎼🎵
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rayatii · 2 years ago
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Raya Recounts: a brand-new series of overly-detailed opera summaries with unsolicited commentary!
Yeah, I have pulled yet another massive hiatus on these, but hopefully you’ll forgive me.
Episode 4: I puritani
I puritani (“The Puritans”) is a 3-act opera by Vincenzo Bellini. Bellini was one of the big BIG names among composers of the bel canto era, which also include Gioachino Rossini and Gaetano Donizetti (the composer for our first selection). Bel canto is Italian for “beautiful singing”, and Bellini was no stranger to that; in the world of opera, he is mostly applauded for the vocal lines he wrote, which tend to be absolutely beautiful, especially compared to his instrumentals (subjective opinion, sorry). Bellini’s works are significantly more obscure to the general public than those of the previous composers I have covered, but some people might be familiar with the aria “Casta diva” from his opera Norma.
Today’s opera was Bellini’s final work before his untimely death at age 33.
The libretto was written by Carlo Pepoli, based on the play Têtes rondes et cavaliers (“Roundheads and Cavaliers”) by Jacques-François Ancelot and Xavier Boniface Saintine (GOD, they have like sixty million different forms of their names on their works, so I went with IMSLP’s input). There doesn’t seem to be anything else that these three guys came up with that is less obscure than today’s selection.
The plot is known for being kind of flimsy, but the quality of the vocal music definitely makes up for it, and for the longest time it has been, and still remains, a favorite of the big opera houses to put on to show off their greatest stars’ vocal virtuosity.
You know the drill, same as always: bolding the solo characters’ names and giving potentially bad Italian translations for the important numbers. They are a bit more difficult to divide than the previous installment, so please bear with me.
This is for @carlodivarga-s, who suggested this title. Let me know if any of you have an opera you would like me to give the Raya Recounts treatment to!
Spoilers, of course!
Because this is a historical opera, let me clarify the historical context before I start; this is set in England during the English Civil War, which was a conflict between “Cavaliers/Royalists”, i.e., supporters of King Charles I, and supporters of the Parliament of England (or “Roundheads”, named such because of the cropped hairstyles that many Puritans, who formed a important number of members of that group, tended to sport, in contrast to the long ringlets that were fashionable at the royal court at the time). As you may have guessed, the conflict was about whether or not England should continue to be a monarchy and ruled by the so-called “divine right of kings”, and the whole shtick was followed by the monarchy being overthrown in favor of the Parliament, Oliver Cromwell ruling as Lord Protector for nearly 5 years, and the monarchy being restored years later with Charles II, son of Charles I.
You may have noticed that I am very much anti-monarchy (this is Tumblr, this is hardly going to get me cancelled), but please know that Puritans in this time and place remain known today for being humongous killjoys, who outlawed things such as theatre and Christmas on the grounds of these practices being supposedly sinful and whatnot. No wonder the term “puritanical” nowadays represents unreasonably rigid strictness. So historically, I'm not sure I would want to stand on either side.
I have to admit that I got most of that historical knowledge from the show “Horrible Histories”, though I did use more than this as a source in my research!
Anyway, back to our opera!
After a prelude in D major (which I noticed is a key very frequently used throughout the opera), Act 1, Scene 1 opens on a fortress in England, sometime in the 1640s or so, at dawn. According to the libretto, there are sentinels marching. We hear an offstage chorus setting the scene (Chorus: All’erta! All’erta! L’alba appari; “On your guard! On your guard! The dawn is appearing” or something like that). Then, the reveille sounds, represented in the orchestra by French horns; it is followed by a lengthy drumroll, after which a chorus of soldiers, led by Bruno, a tenor who somehow never gets a description in other summaries of this opera beside his name (I’ll assume he is a leader of the soldiers), enter while carrying weapons and anticipating a victory over the Stuart clan (i.e., the Royalist side). We now know that these people are Puritans.
Church bells and some organ music are heard. As the soldiers kneel down in prayer, singers offstage (who are somehow listed in the score as the principals) praise God and all his glory and stuff (O, di Cromvèl guerrieri; “O, warriors of Cromwell”. Yeah, we’ll get a bunch more of English names Italianized to a pretty ridiculous degree throughout this opera).
After that, a chorus of people from the castle come onstage, mingling with the soldiers and calling for celebrations; everyone present then sings the praises of one Elvira, a young maiden who has found true love and is to be married today (A festa!; “Let us celebrate!” or something like that).
Everyone leaves except Bruno. Riccardo, a baritone and a leader of the castle’s army, comes onstage and starts lamenting the loss of his beloved Elvira. Bruno encourages him to tell him about his troubles. Riccardo explains that before he went off to fight, Elvira’s father promised him her hand in marriage, but when he returned the evening before, he was told that Elvira is in love with a Cavalier named Talbo (an Italianized form of “Talbot”), and that nothing can change her heart, meaning that he had to be released from his engagement (Recitative: Or dove fuggo io mai?; “Now where shall I flee to?”).
Bruno tries to get Riccardo to chill, but Riccardo insists on wallowing in his heartbreak (Aria: Ah! per sempre io ti perdei; “Ah! I have lost you forever”. Unusually for a baritone, he doesn’t seem to have any thoughts of vengeance and murder, at least so far, which is quite a massive relief).
After some vocal acrobatics woven rather well in a mournful tune, some horns and trumpets sound. Bruno tells Riccardo that it’s the army calling him (Riccardo), and tries, to not much avail, to get him to forget about his love issues for now and instead focus on the fire of glory and patriotism. They both leave.
Scene 2 switches the scene to Elvira’s bedroom (I forgot to mention that she is the daughter of whoever owns the castle, but it’s rather easy to figure it out). Present there are Elvira, a coloratura soprano (i.e., a soprano who specializes in crazy vocal acrobatics) who is moping around sorrowfully, and Giorgio, a bass and her uncle, whom she very close to. So close, in fact, that she literally calls him her second father in her first line. As he embraces her, Giorgio asks Elvira the reason for her mopey-ness, and when he brings up her upcoming wedding, she immediately recoils and goes on about how she will go insane and die of grief if she has to be dragged to the altar against her will (hmmmmm, foreshadowing of some kind???) (Aria: Sai com’arde; “You know how it blazes”).
Okay, so we now know that Elvira hasn’t been told yet of the last-minute bridegroom switch, but when Giorgio tells her that she will get to be with her beloved Arturo (said Talbo guy mentioned earlier), she absolutely rejoices and embraces him. She asks him how this came to be, and he explains that the night before, her tears and prayers touched his soul to the point that he managed to tearfully convince his brother, i.e., her father, that she would die if she were to marry someone other than Arturo (Aria (at least listed as an aria for Giorgio in the libretto, though Elvira has a few lines): Piangi, o figlia; “Cry, o daughter”).
Horns are heard; it’s a signal of the guards. Elvira and Giorgio listen carefully as an offstage male chorus announces the arrival of Arturo Talbo. Elvira is so absolutely overjoyed that she claims not to be able to believe it (Duet: A quel nome; “At this name”).
Scene 3 takes us to a weapons room, where Elvira, Giorgio, Valton (Italianized form of “Walton”), Elvira’s father and a bass just like his brother, as well as a chorus of the people from the castle all gather to welcome Arturo. The chorus sings in praise of Elvira’s beauty and Arturo’s valor and the love match between them (Chorus: Ad Arturo onore; “Honor to Arturo”).
Then in comes the long-expected Arturo, a noble tenor, accompanied by squires and pages carrying wedding presents, including a veil. Arturo starts singing to Elvira all about his happiness stemming from his love for her, which used to make him sad back when they were not an approved match (Aria (tho with quite a few lines from the principals and the chorus, which makes it often labeled as a quartet in some sources): A te, o cara; “To you, o darling”, one of the most famous bits in the whole opera. It actually contains a written high C-sharp (C#5) for Arturo!!! Tenors gotta have some flexible highs to sing this role, and that will only become more prominent the farther we go). Elvira and Arturo express their joy, Giorgio and Valton ask for not a single shadow of sadness to cloud this happy moment, and everyone, including the chorus, calls on Heaven to smile upon this union.
After that, Valton says that he won’t be able to attend the ceremony, and gives Arturo a pass that will grant him safe conduct up till the church (the libretto calls it “tempio” (“temple”), which I know is a name for a Protestant church in some contexts, but I’m not really sure when it comes to the Church of England specifically), asking Giorgio to accompany them. He then addresses some unknown lady, telling her that the Parliament is asking for her, and that he is to escort her there. Said woman, a mezzo, despairs internally, then asks what the Parliament wants from her. Valton replies that he must obey this order without question.
Arturo asks Giorgio about her, and Giorgio explains that she is a prisoner who is believed to be a spy for the Stuarts. Arturo is struck with pity for the mysterious lady, and she internally notices his pitiful expression. Valton calls for the wedding preparations, as well as his departure, to proceed, and everyone leaves except for Arturo (after making sure he is not seen) and the unknown lady.
After briefly assessing him internally, the lady addresses Arturo, who tells her that if she needs anything, she can trust him. She confesses that she is in danger of dying soon, and he mentions that his father died supporting the Stuarts, and affirms his intention of saving her. She says her fate is already sealed, as she is none other than Enrichetta (Henrietta Maria), daughter of Henry IV of France and the widow of Charles I of England, which makes her the (former) Queen of England!!
Arturo, ever faithful to his Royalist duties, immediately insists on escorting Enrichetta to safety (man, it’s rare to see a tenor who puts duty above love), but she firmly believes that there is no hope left for her, and begs him to think of the danger, and especially of Elvira, whom he is literally meant to marry in mere minutes. Arturo begs her not to weaken his courage by mentioning the one he loves, and both go on and on about all this, until they are interrupted by an incredibly cheerful Elvira, who comes in all dressed in her wedding clothes and carrying her veil.
Elvira compares herself to an April lily and basically just describes her appearance, which includes roses in her hair and a pearl necklace (Polonaise (in this case, an aria in the style of a polonaise, which is a type of Polish folk dance with a 3/4 time signature (i.e., like a waltz)): Son vergin vezzosa; “I am a charming virgin”. Vocal acrobatics galore). As she sings, Arturo, Enrichetta and Giorgio (who has also come by this time, I guess) compare her disposition to a nightingale and the moon appearing through clouds at night.
Elvira asks Enrichetta to help her with the ringlets of her hair, and places her veil on Enrichetta’s head as Arturo and Giorgio ask her (Enrichetta) to excuse Elvira’s playful behavior. As Elvira continues to fool around, Enrichetta and Arturo continue praying for safety while Giorgio internally compares Elvira to a zephyr, a rainbow and a sylph. Then, Valton and the chorus come in calling for Elvira to get ready. She entrusts Arturo to give her back the veil later, before she leaves with Giorgio and nearly everyone else.
As Arturo and Enrichetta are left alone, Arturo notices that the veil hiding Enrichetta’s face might just be the thing that will help her escape safely, but before they can make a move, in comes Riccardo to stop Arturo from stealing his beloved (he thinks the woman under the veil is Elvira; ah, the operatic classic of not recognizing someone with a concealed face!), and he challenges Arturo to a duel to the death by swords, which he smugly accepts (Trio: Fermi! Invan, invan rapir pretendi; “Stop! In vain, in vain you try to kidnap” or something like that. This one was difficult to translate so I copied it from the aria-database). But Enrichetta steps in between them to stop them from fighting, at which point her disguise gets shed and Riccardo recognizes her as the prisoner.
Riccardo suddenly decides to let the two of them escape, and as Arturo bids an internal farewell to Elvira, we hear Elvira, Bruno, Giorgio, Valton and the chorus approaching. Of course, given the situation (opposing clans, rivals in love, etc.), Arturo asks Riccardo if he’s gonna snitch on them before they go beyond the walls of the fortress, and Riccardo swears that he won’t. Well, as the three characters briefly speak to themselves internally, we learn that Riccardo does not intend on keeping this promise and looks forward to Arturo’s downfall, while Arturo himself internally proclaims his everlasting love for Elvira, and Enrichetta looks forward to seeing her son (Charles II, I guess??). Arturo and Enrichetta finally leave, and Riccardo watches them escape (this is a fortress, after all).
Then in come Elvira, Bruno, Giorgio, Valton and the Chorus. Everyone asks Riccardo where Arturo is, and OF COURSE, the jealous snitch tells everyone that he is long gone, and everyone else sees that he has escaped with the prisoner. As Elvira cries out in despair, Riccardo and Giorgio call for soldiers to catch the two traitors, and everyone else joins in the call to arms.
But then, Elvira notices that the woman with Arturo in the distance is wearing a white veil, and that he is treating her as his bride and calling her Elvira, and this messes with her mind and makes her really, REALLY upset. Everyone around becomes incredibly worried about her. Then, she hallucinates Arturo coming back and she repeatedly tells him to come with her to the church. It becomes clear to everyone that Elvira has officially lost her mind in true operatic fashion, and they all pity her. Of course, they blame that traitor Arturo for this whole fiasco, and remark on how pure Elvira’s heart is for her to still love him as much as she does.
Then, Elvira’s mood suddenly switches again, and she sees (here, I’m not sure of she actually sees or “sees”) Arturo fleeing, and starts cursing him for abandoning her. As she expresses a delirious sort of rage growing inside her, everyone else continues cursing Arturo, and the curtain falls as they swear revenge.
And then Elvira dies of her insanity because it is a known fact that sopranos who have a mad scene in an opera ALWAYS die. :)
The end! ❤❤❤ This has been an overly-detailed opera summary with unsolicited commentary, I hope you-
Raya, stop messing around and misleading your readers, this is only the first act, no one has died, the opera is far from finished.
Sorry, sorry. Anyway, here it goes:
Act 2 (only one scene this time) opens in some random room in that same fortress. A chorus of people of the castle sing (to a tune that’s a slight tad joyful imo) in sadness about poor Elvira’s (who hasn’t died, by the way) insanity; she is crying all the time, and at one point she was seen wandering in nature, screaming “Have mercy! Have mercy!” (Chorus: Ah dolor! Ah terror!; “Ah, what pain! Ah, what terror!”).
Giorgio then comes in, and the chorus people ask him for updates on Elvira’s condition; she is currently resting, her mood keeps switching between sadness and happiness, and she sometimes has temporary moments of clarity. The chorus asks for more details, and Giorgio initially refuses out of sadness, but at the chorus’ insistence, he describes Elvira’s behavior, including wandering around with flowers around her hair while crying out “Where has Elvira gone? Where has Elvira gone?”, hallucinating herself getting married and then crying for Arturo to come back, as well as mistaking other people for Arturo, then realizing her error and crying and wishing for death, ye typical operatic mad scene stuff (Aria: Cinta di fiori; “Garlanded with flowers”). *Sighs in psychology ho*. Of course, everyone continues cursing Arturo.
Then Riccardo comes in with news that Arturo has been sentenced to death by the Parliament. Everyone considers this a rightful punishment for his betrayal, and Riccardo adds that Valton has been declared innocent of the whole thing. Riccardo asks Giorgio about Elvira, and Giorgio explains that according to doctors, only a sudden emotional shock, joyful or tragic, will restore Elvira’s state of mind (wait, isn’t that how amnesia is represented in media??). Riccardo gives orders that should Arturo (who is still on the run) ever be seen around here, he must be treated with no mercy.
The chorus leaves, and we hear Elvira offstage, asking to either be given back hope or to die. Riccardo and Giorgio pity her, of course. Then Elvira comes onstage, looking disheveled and clearly disturbed. She angsts about Arturo’s betrayal as Giorgio and Riccardo continue pitying her (damn, half of this opera is basically people crying for Elvira!!) (Aria: Qui la voce; “Here, the voice”). Then, Elvira notices Giorgio, whom she doesn’t recognize at first but then mistakes for her father, and joyfully assumes that he’s here to take her to get married. Then, she notices Riccardo (whom she seemingly mistakes for Arturo? I’m not sure) weeping. Their brief conversation leads her to acutely remember her heartbreak.
Then, Elvira smiles suddenly, and she hallucinates Arturo being here and calls for him to come back to her, seemingly in a mix of joy and pain, as Riccardo and Giorgio continue pitying her (Cabaletta (as we said 2 episodes ago, the more animated section of an aria, complete with vocal acrobatics): Vien, diletto; “Come, beloved”). The men tell her she should go rest, and she eventually leaves.
Giorgio tells Riccardo that he must save Arturo (Duet: Il rival salvar tu dèi; “You must save your rival”, still not 100% sure if this is how to spell the Italian “dèi”). Riccardo replies that he cannot, that it’s in the Parliament’s will for Arturo to die, and that he does not abhor him in any way. But Giorgio correctly guesses that Riccardo doesn’t actually want to save Arturo, because he is still jealous. Giorgio continues to insist on his point, saying that if Arturo were to go down, Elvira would go down with him, and that their ghosts would haunt him (Riccardo), but this does not move Riccardo.
Eventually, Giorgio manages to win Riccardo over, because of the fact that patriotism comes hand in hand with mercy. But they also agree that should Arturo ever come armed among the enemy ranks (there is a battle scheduled at dawn on the next day), he will perish at Riccardo’s hand. Both end the act singing a duet all about patriotism and the glory of dying in the name of freedom for the nation (Duet: Suoni la tromba; “Sound the trumpet”, another of the more famous bits of the opera).
(Fun fact: the melody of Suoni la tromba was used in my first school’s anthem, tho taken one half-step down. For privacy reasons, I obviously won’t make you listen to the school anthem, so have instead the whole actual Act 2 finale from Il rival salvar tu dèi to Suoni la tromba, sung by Samuel Ramey and Sherril Milnes. I used this specific recording in my 5th “Opera(s) as Vines” video. But just so you know, they take a few cuts.)
(Also, I think I read somewhere that this opera was meant to be only 2 acts, but the second act was split into two after Suoni la tromba. But I’m not sure, tho this might explain why Act 1 is longer than Acts 2 and 3.)
After a brief prelude in D minor that alludes to a hurricane (at least according to the score), Act 3 (also only one scene) opens in a wooded area near the fortress. We may or may not see some armed people walking around at some point, looking for someone, but they leave soon enough. Finally, a very exhausted Arturo runs in onstage. Seeing that he is all alone, he allows himself to take a break (Recitative: Son salvo, alfin son salvo; “I am safe, finally I am safe”). We learn that he is still on the run, and so far he has managed to outrun his pursuers. He expresses deep love for his homeland, which he remarks is especially prominent for him as an exile.
Suddenly, he hears the sound of a harp, followed by Elvira’s offstage voice, singing a song about a sad troubadour sitting at a fountain and singing a love song (Aria: A una fonte afflitto e solo; “At a fountain, afflicted and along”). Arturo immediately recognizes this tune as a song they used to sing in these woods back in the days of their still-not-really-approved courtship. He calls for her, but no one responds, so he resorts to singing that same song about that same, constantly-depressed troubadour sitting at a fountain, striking a harp and singing a sad song.
Suddenly, Arturo hears drumrolls and a military march, as well as an offstage male chorus, and he realizes that he is still being pursued, so he hides away as a bunch of men-at-arms come onstage, looking around for him, and he manages to remain unseen until they leave.
As soon as the men are gone, Arturo comes out of hiding, and he considers entering Elvira’s place and telling her everything, but then he realizes that doing that would be too dangerous for both himself and Elvira, so he decides instead to continue singing their song, hoping that it will reach her somehow. He now sings about an exiled pilgrim who is also constantly depressed, and whose story seems to mirror Arturo’s own situation, at least in my opinion.
At some point either during or after the song, depending on the director’s choices, Elvira shows up. She gets sad when the singing stops, and goes back to longing for Arturo, at which point he shows up in front of her, asking for her forgiveness. A joyful reunion between the lovebirds ensues.
Arturo goes on about how happy he is to behold her once more after such a long time (three months, to be exact). Elvira describes all the pain she experienced during his absence, which felt like not three months but three centuries for her. He then explains to her the whole shtick with the prisoner woman from Act 1, who was none other than the Queen herself, and about how he ran away with her in order to save her from a death sentence. Elvira is so struck by this piece of info that she feels a sudden clarity in her mind. He assures her that he loves her with all his heart and they sing a passionate love duet together, reaffirming their love for each other over and over, and promising to stay together forever (Duet: Vieni, vieni fra queste braccia; “Come, come into these arms”. It contains 2 written high D’s (D5) for Arturo!!! the latter of which can be shared with Elvira, depending on the singer). They may or may not kiss at the end, depending on the production, because, I mean. The music.
But this moment of ecstasy is short-lived for our lovers, as we hear a horn followed by some more drumrolls and that same military march from earlier. Arturo immediately knows it’s his pursuers, and Elvira starts speaking incoherently, which makes him realize her state of Operatic Insanity™. We hear a male chorus from offstage singing in praise of Cromwell’s England, and Arturo tries to get Elvira to go hide with him, but she believes that he’s trying to leave her again for that woman he ran away with, and so she physically blocks him and calls for reinforcements while he tells her to be quiet.
The entire chorus of soldiers and castle-people, as well as Riccardo and Giorgio, show up onstage, and when Riccardo and the soldiers announce that Arturo has been sentenced to death, Elvira’s shock is so intense that literally everyone notices; this seems to be the emotional shock required to cure her insanity.
One of those large ensembles typical of bel canto operas, where everyone is singing something different, starts: Arturo announces that he’d be happy to die alongside Elvira, Elvira basically says the same thing, and Giorgio, the female chorus and even fucking Riccardo himself all feel pity towards the lovers (Quartet with chorus: Credeasi, misera; “She believed, the wretched one”). But the soldiers demand to proceed with the execution, much to everyone else’s despair. After embracing Elvira and bidding her farewell, Arturo chides the soldiers for upsetting Elvira and begs them to keep it together for just one moment, to not much avail.
(Fun fact: this piece is known to contain a high F (F5) for Arturo. Yeah, you read it right, a fucking high F!!!!! It’s so borderline impossible to hit that most tenors resort to singing a D-flat (Db 5) instead, which is already pretty high. Even so, those who can reach the high F usually sing it falsetto. Listen for example to the ever-legendary Luciano Pavarotti sing it (high F at 4:51).)
But then, we hear the sound of horns, announcing the arrival of a herald, and therefore a message (Finale: Suon d’araldi?; “The sound of heralds?”). Letters are brought in, and after reading them, Giorgio and Riccardo announce to everybody that the Stuarts have been defeated, and the Royal(ist) prisoners have all been pardoned; England has been liberated! (well, I mean... given, well. Everything that Puritans at this time and place stood for, I’m kinda calling this into question. But for the sake of the opera, I’m gonna allow myself some suspension of disbelief.)
Wait, what?? A happy ending??? In my non-comic bel canto opera????? More likely than you think!!!!! Anyway, everyone celebrates and sings the praises of Cromwell, before wishing long days of happiness to the extremely joyful and more-in-love-than-ever Elvira and Arturo (who has therefore now been freed of his death sentence), the curtain drops of these joyous festivities and everyone lives happily ever after as far as we know, given that I’m not super-familiar with more of the deeper details of the historical context.
The end! ❤❤❤ This has been an overly-detailed opera summary with unsolicited commentary, I hope you enjoyed ;)
- Raya / rayatii
(PS: I wanna give a quick shoutout to the production of this opera by the Opéra Royal de Wallonie-Liège from 2004, which was the first (and so far only) production of this opera that I watched, and which really helped me with the making of this post. Having only watched one production while writing this made it more difficult than the previous installments, and I had my doubt at times, but I’m really glad I pulled through.)
(PPS: fun fact: okay, I hate the British royalty just as much as the next Tumblr user, but this was apparently Queen Victoria’s favorite opera, and she would refer to it as “dear Puritani”. It also apparently the first opera that she and her beloved Prince Albert attended together before marrying.)
(PPPS: while I was doing some deeply detailed translation research for this post, I accidentally learned that the Italian word “pompa”, as well as meaning “pump”, also means “blowjob”. I probably will never be able to look at this opera the same way again, and I’m really frustrated that Tumblr doesn’t have a spoiler option like Discord, meaning that I won’t be able to protect your eyes from this...)
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ultra-francesca-mercury · 15 days ago
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november 13
1868
Italian composer Gioachino Rossini dies of pneumonia in Passy, Paris, France, at age 76.
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oconnormusicstudio · 9 months ago
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Leap Year Day in Music History
      . 1792 ~ Gioachino Rossini, Italian composer Read quotes by and about Rossini More information about Rossini . 1898 ~ Wladimir Rudolfovich Vogel, Russian-born Swiss composer . 1904 ~ Jimmy Dorsey, American clarinetist, bandleader and saxophonist . 1916 ~ Dinah (Frances Rose) Shore, Emmy Award-winning singer and entertainer . 1932 ~ Bing Crosby and the Mills Brothers teamed up to record…
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juliehowlin · 9 months ago
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Rossini
Gioachino Antonio Rossini was an Italian Composer who wrote 39 operas (including The Barber of Seville and William Tell) as well as songs, chamber music and sacred music. He was born on 29 February 1792.
Here are ten things you might not know about him:
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proartsblog · 2 years ago
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Tomb of Gioachino Rossini (Italian Composer). Basilica di Santa Croce, Florence
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suetravelblog · 2 years ago
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The Barber of Seville Vienna State Opera
The Barber of Seville Vienna State Opera
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artofquotation · 6 years ago
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“Answer critics with silence and indifference. It works better, I assure you, than anger and argument.” "Answer critics with silence and indifference. It works better, I assure you, than anger and argument." Gioachino Rossini, Italian, composer
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opera-ghosts · 1 year ago
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Erna Sack - Una Voce Poco Fa (in German) with High Bb6 & G#6 - 1936
155 years ago November 13. 1868 the great Italian Composer Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868) died in Paris.
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odk-2 · 3 years ago
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Gioachino Rossini - La Gazza Ladra꞉ Ouvertüre (1971) (The Thieving Magpie ┃ Die Diebische Elster) Composer: Gioachino Rossini Conductor: Herbert von Karajan Orchestra: Die Berliner Philharmoniker Producer/Engineer: Hans Weber from: “Rossini & Verdi: Ouvertüren: Berliner Philharmoniker, Herbert von Karajan” (LP|CD)
Classical Music | Opera | Italian Opera | Overture
JukehostUK (left click = play) (320kbps)
Recorded: @ The Jesus‐Christus‐Kirche (Dahlem) from January 2 - 6, 1971 in Berlin, Germany
Deutsche Grammophon
Composed in 1817 The first performance of "La Gazza Ladra" ("The Thieving Magpie") was on 31 May 1817, at The La Scala Opera House in Milan Italy
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infinitelytheheartexpands · 4 years ago
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50 New Operas In 2021, By The Numbers
So, uh, yeah. 50 operas through May 2, 2021. By comparison: in the entire year of 2020, I experienced 52 new-to-me operas. We’re barely a third of the way through 2021 and I’ve already almost matched that.
Some Stats:
Video vs. Audio:
Video: 40
Audio: 10
Breakdown by language:
French: 25
Italian: 12
English: 2
German: 6
Russian: 4
Danish: 1
Breakdown by century of premiere:
17th: 3
18th: 4
19th: 28
20th: 14
Multiple centuries: 1 (17th, 18th, and 21st centuries for The Secret Life of Paintings because of the issue of the music’s original premieres versus the premiere of this)
Operas by first-time-for-me composers vs. not:
First time: 24 (by 23 composers)
Not: 25 (by 16 composers)
In between: 1 (The Secret Life of Paintings contains music by Vivaldi, and I have never seen any of his operas, but I have seen both Handel and Monteverdi operas)
Total: 50 operas by 40 composers 
Adam, Adolphe*
Le postillon de Lonjumeau (The Postilion of Lonjumeau)
Alfano, Franco*
Cyrano de Bergerac
Auber, Daniel François Esprit*
Fra Diavolo (Brother Diavolo)
Gustave III, ou le bal masqué (Gustave III, or The Masked Ball)*
Borodin, Alexander*
Knyaz Igor (Prince Igor)
Busoni, Ferruccio*
Doktor Faust (Doctor Faust)
Caccini, Francesca*
La liberazione di Ruggiero dall’isola d’Alcina (The Liberation of Ruggiero from Alcina’s Island)*
Chabrier, Emmanuel*
L’étoile (The Star)
Charpentier, Gustave*
Louise
Donizetti, Gaetano
Poliuto
Dukas, Paul*
Ariane et Barbe-bleue (Ariadne and Bluebeard)
von Flotow, Friedrich*
Martha, oder Der Markt zu Richmond (Martha, or The Market at Richmond)
Godard, Benjamin*
Dante*
Gounod, Charles François
La colombe (The Dove)*
Grétry, André*
Richard Cœur-de-lion (Richard the Lionheart)
Hahn, Reynaldo*
Ô mon bel inconnu (Oh, my beautiful unknown one)*
Halévy, Fromental
La reine de Chypre (The Queen of Cyprus)*
Handel, George Frideric
Rodelinda, regina de’Longobardi (Rodelinda, Queen of the Lombards)
Semele
Hervé (real name: Louis Auguste Florimond Ronger)*
Mam’zelle Nitouche
Korngold, Erich Wolfgang
Das Wunder der Heliane (The Miracle of Heliane)
Lortzing, Albert*
Zar und Zimmermann (Czar and Carpenter)
Lully, Jean-Baptiste*
Armide
Massenet, Jules
Don César de Bazan*
Don Quichotte (Don Quixote)
Le jongleur de Notre-Dame (The Juggler of Our Lady)
Sapho*
Meyerbeer, Giacomo
L’étoile du nord (The North Star)
Monteverdi, Claudio
L’Orfeo (Orpheus)
Nielsen, Carl*
Maskarade (Masquerade)
Offenbach, Jacques
La belle Hélène (The Beautiful Helen)
La vie parisienne (The Parisian Life)
Pergolesi, Giovanni Battista*
La serva padrona (The Servant Girl Turned Mistress)
Prokofiev, Sergei
Igrok (The Gambler)
Ravel, Maurice*
L’heure espagnole (The Spanish Hour)
Reynolds, Peter*
Sands of Time*
Rossini, Gioachino
La gazza ladra (The Thieving Magpie)
L’Italiana in Algeri (The Italian Woman in Algiers)
Saariaho, Kaija*
L’amour de loin (Love from Afar)- #50!!! (May 2, 2021)
Saint-Saëns, Camille
Henry VIII
Le timbre d’argent (The Silver Bell)*
Tchaikovsky, Pyotr Ilyich
Orleanskaja deva (The Maid of Orléans)
Pikovaya dama (Pique Dame/The Queen of Spades)
Various Composers
The Secret Life of Paintings (pastiche of excerpts from operas by George Frideric Handel, Claudio Monteverdi, and Antonio Vivaldi)
Verdi, Giuseppe
Giovanna d’Arco (Joan of Arc)
Oberto
Wagner, Richard
Der fliegende Holländer (The Flying Dutchman)
Parsifal
Wolf-Ferrari, Ermanno*
Il segreto di Susanna (Susanna’s Secret)
Zandonai, Riccardo*
Francesca da Rimini
Here’s to the next fifty!
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aion-rsa · 3 years ago
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Once Upon a Time in America Is Every Bit as Great a Gangster Movie as The Godfather
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This article contains Once Upon a Time in America spoilers.
The Godfather is a great movie, possibly the best ever made. Its sequel, The Godfather, Part II, often follows it in the pantheon of classic cinema, some critics even believe it is the better film. Robert Evans, head of production at Paramount in the early 1970s, wanted The Godfather to be directed by an Italian American. Francis Ford Coppola was very much a last resort. The studio’s first choice was Sergio Leone, but he was getting ready to make his own gangster epic, Once Upon a Time in America. Though less known, it is equally magnificent. 
Robert De Niro, as David “Noodles” Aaronson, and James Woods, as Maximillian “Max” Bercovicz, make up a dream gangster film pairing in Once Upon a Time in America, on par with late 1930s audiences seeing Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney team for The Roaring Twenties or Angels with Dirty Faces. Noodles and Max are partners and competitors, one is ambitious, the other gets a yen for the beach. One went to jail, the other wants to rob the Federal Reserve Bank. 
Throw Joe Pesci into the mix, in a small part as crime boss Frankie Monaldi, and Burt Young as his brother Joe Monaldi, and life gets “funnier than shit,” and funnier than their more famous crime films, Goodfellas and Chinatown, respectively. Future mob entertainment mainstays are all over Once Upon a Time in America too, and they are in distinguished company. This is future Oscar winner Jennifer Connelly’s first movie. She plays young Deborah, the young girl who becomes the woman between Noodles and Max, and she even has something of a catch-phrase, “Go on Noodles your mother is calling.” Elizabeth McGovern delivers the line as adult Deborah. 
When Once Upon a Time in America first ran in theaters, there were reports that people in the audience laughed when Deborah is reintroduced after a 35-year gap in the action. She hadn’t aged at all. But Deborah is representational to Leone, beyond the character.
“Age can wither me, Noodles,” she says. But neither the character nor the director will allow the audience to see it beyond the cold cream. Deborah is the character Leone is answering to. She also embodies the fluid chronology of the storytelling. She is its only constant.
The rest of the film can feel like a free fall though. Whereas The Godfather moved in a linear fashion, Once Upon a Time in America has time for flashbacks, and flashbacks within flashbacks, and detours that careen between the violent and the quiet. It’s a visceral experience about landing where we, and this genre, began.
Growing up Gangster
Both The Godfather and Once Upon a Time in America span decades; it’s the history of immigrant crime in 20th century America. But they differ on chronological placement. Once Upon a Time is set in three time-frames. The earliest is 1918 in the Jewish ghettos of New York City’s Lower East Side. 
Young Noodles (Scott Tiler), Patrick “Patsy” Goldberg (Brian Bloom), Philip “Cockeye” Stein (Adrian Curran) and Dominic (Noah Moazezi), are a bush league street gang doing petty crimes for a minor neighborhood mug, Bugsy (James Russo). New on the block, Max (Rusty Jacobs) interrupts the gang as they’re about to roll a drunk, and Max makes off with the guy’s watch for himself. He soon joins the gang, and they progress to bigger crimes.
The bulk of the film takes place, however, from when De Niro’s Noodles gets out of prison in 1930, following Bugsy’s murder, and lasts until the end of Prohibition in 1933. Max, now played by Woods, has become a successful bootlegger with a mortuary business on the side. With William Forsythe playing the grown-up Cockeye and James Hayden as Patsy, the mobsters go from bootlegging through contract killing, and ultimately to backing the biggest trucking union in the country as enforcers. They enjoy most of their downtime in their childhood friend Fat Moe’s (Larry Rapp) speakeasy. Noodles is in love with Fat Moe’s sister, Deborah, who is on her way to becoming a Hollywood star. The gang’s rise ends with the liquor delivery massacre.
The final part of the film comes in 1968. After 35 years in hiding, Noodles is uncovered and paid to do a private contract for the U.S. Secretary of Commerce Christopher Bailey…  Max by a different name who 35 years on has been able to feign respectability and make Deborah his mistress. An entire life has become a façade.
Recreating a Seedier Side of New York’s Immigrant Past
While The Godfather is an adaptation of Mario Puzo’s fictional bestseller, Once Upon a Time in America is based on the autobiographical crime novel, The Hoods. It was written by Herschel “Noodles” Goldberg, under the pen name of Harry Grey while he was serving time in Sing-Sing Prison. 
Coppola’s vision in The Godfather is aesthetically comparable to Leone’s projection. From the opium pipes at the Chinese puppet theater to the take-out Lo Mein during execution planning, the multicultural world of old New York crowds the frames and the players in both films. Most of Once Upon a Time in America was shot at Rome’s Cinecittà Studios. The 1918 Jewish neighborhood in Manhattan was a street in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, which was made to look exactly as it had 60 years earlier.
Leone skillfully, yet playfully, captures the poverty of immigrant life in New York. The first crime we see the four-member gang commit could have been done by the Dead End kids. They torch a newspaper stand because the owner doesn’t kick up protection money to the local mug. And like the Dead End kids, they needle their mark, and joke with each other. At the end of the crime, Cockey is playing the pan pipe, and the very young Dominic is dancing. They are proud of their work and enjoy it. It’s fun to break things for money. And even better when they get a choice between taking payment in cash or rolling it over into the sure bet of rolling a drunk.
Violence without the Cannoli
Gangster films, like Howard Hawks’ Scarface and William A. Wellman’s The Public Enemy, were always at the forefront of the backlash to the Motion Picture Production Code. Which might be why gangster pictures were one of the first genres to benefit from the censors’ fall. A direct line can be drawn from the machine gun death which ends Bonnie and Clyde (1967) to the toll-booth execution of Sonny Corleone (James Caan)  in The Godfather. Another from when Moe Greene (Alex Rocco) gets one through the glasses and Joe Monaldi gets it in the eye in Once Upon a Time in America.
The Godfather has some brutal scenes. We get a litany of dead Barzinis and Tattaglias, horse heads and spilled oranges. Once Upon a Time in America ups the ante though. The shootings and stabbings are neat jobs compared with the beatings, which allow far more artistic renderings of gore, and pass extreme scrutiny. The one time the effects team balks at a payoff is when it’s not as gruesome as the setup.
“Inflammatory words from a union boss,” corporate thug Chicken Joe asks as he is about to light Jimmy “Clean Hands” Conway O’Donnell on fire. The mobster has such a nice smile, and the union delegate, played by Treat Williams, looks so pathetic while dripping gasoline that it feels like it might even be a mercy killing. It is a wonderful set piece, perfectly executed and timed. When Max and Noodles, and the gang defuse the situation, rather than ignite it, it is a lesson in the dangerous balance of suspense.
Like many specific scenes in Once Upon a Time in America, Conway’s incendiary introduction would’ve worked in any era. This is the turning point for the gang. The end of Prohibition is coming and all those trucks they’re using to haul liquor can be repurposed for a more lucrative future. 
“You Dancing?”
Music is paramount in both Leone’s and Coppola’s films. The Godfather is much like an opera, the third installment even closes the curtain at one. Once Upon a Time in America is a frontier film. The score was composed by Ennio Morricone, who wrote the music behind Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars, For A Few Dollars More, and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
The film opens and closes with Kate Smith’s version of “God Bless America.” Though the scene occurs during the 1968 timeframe, the song comes out of the radio of a car seemingly from another point in time.
Morricone’s accompaniment to Once Upon a Time in America is as representational as Nino Rota’s soundtrack in The Godfather. Characters, settings, situations, and relationships all have themes, which become as recognizable as the Prohibition-era songs which flavor the period piece’s ambience. Fat Moe conducts the speakeasy orchestra through José María Lacalle García’s “Amapola” while grinning dreamily to Deborah who is chatting with Noodles. He’s a romantic.
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The music becomes part of the action in Once Upon a Time in America. Individual couples cut their own rugs, doing the Charleston between tables as waiters and cigarette girls glide by. Cockeye, who has been playing the pan pipe since the beginning of the film, wants to sit in with the band. 
Forsythe almost steals Once Upon a Time in America. He cries what look like real tears at the mock funeral for Prohibition and drinks formula from a baby bottle during the maternity ward scene. The blackmail scheme, which involves swapping infants, plays like an outtake from a Three Stooges movie, something Coppola would never dare for The Godfather. The ruse is choreographed to the tune of Gioachino Rossini’s “The Thieving Magpie,” which elicits the youthful thuggery celebrated in Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange. 
Devils with Clean Faces
One ironic difference between the two films is whimsy. The Godfather, which glorifies crime as corporate misadventure, is a serious movie with no time for funny business. Once Upon a Time in America, which is an indictment of criminal life, has moments of innocence as syrupy as in any family film (of the non-crime variety) and can be completely kosher. It’s sweeter than the cannoli Clemenza (Richard Castellano) took from the car, or the cake Nazorine (Vito Scotti) made for the wedding of Don Vito’s daughter. 
The scene where young Patsy brings a Charlotte Russe to Peggy in exchange for sex is a masterwork of emotive storytelling. He chooses a treat over sex. On one level, yes, this is a socioeconomic reality. That pastry was expensive and something he could never afford to get for himself. But as Patsy sneaks each tiny bit of the cream from the packaging, he is also just a child, a kid who wants some cake. He learns he can’t have it and eat it. It is so plainly laid out, and so beautifully rendered.
The Corleone family never gets those moments, not even in the flashbacks to Sicily or as children on the stoop listening to street singers play guitars. We know little of Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) or Sonny as youngsters, much less teenagers, and are robbed of their happier moments of bonding. We know they are close, they are family. But Michael has his own brother killed while Noodles balks at the very idea. Twice, as it turns out.
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“Today they ask us to get rid of Joe. Tomorrow they ask me to get rid of you. Is that okay with you? Cos it’s not okay with me,” Noodles tells Max after the gang delivers on a particularly costly contract, double-crossing their partners in a major diamond heist. They are not blood family, but from the moment Max calls Noodles his “uncle” to fool a beat cop, they are all related. 
Noodles then does what young men in coming-of-age movies have done since Cooley High: Something really stupid. An indulgence the Corleones could never enjoy. He speeds the car into the bay. The guys can’t believe it. It adds to his legend. The scene could have been in Diner, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, or even Thelma & Louise. It is hard to dislike the gangsters in these moments. We know them too well, even as they do such horrible things.
How Women are Really Treated by an Underworld
The Godfather is told from the vantage point of one of the heads of the five established crime families; organized crime is as insular as the Corleone mall on Long Beach. That motion picture reinvigorated the “gangster film,” long considered a ghetto genre, but its perspective is insulated. By contrast, no matter how far they climb, Leone’s characters never really get off the block. They are street savages, even in tuxedos. Once Upon a Time in America whacked the gangster film, and tossed its living corpse into the compactor of a passing garbage truck.
The Godfather doesn’t judge its gangsters. The Corleones are family men who keep to a code of ethics and omerta. They dip their beaks in “harmless” vices like gambling, liquor, and prostitution. While there are scenes of extreme domestic violence, and a general dismissal of women, the film stops short of challenging the image of honorable men who do dishonorable things. Leone offers no such restraint. His history lesson is unabridged.
Long before Martin Scorsese’s The Irishman stripped gangster lore to a tale of toxic masculinity, Once Upon a Time in America robbed it of all glamor. There is a very nonchalant attitude toward violence and other demeaning acts against women in Leone’s film, from the very opening scene where a thug fondles a woman’s breast with his gun in order to humiliate her civilian date.
This is deliberate. The director, best known for Spaghetti Westerns, wants to obliterate any goodwill the gangsters have accumulated through their magnetic antiheroism. One scene between Max and his girlfriend Carol (Tuesday Weld) is so hard to sit through, even the other members of the gang squirm in their chairs.
Noodles sexually assaults two women over the course of the film. While there is some motivational ambiguity in the scene during the jewel heist attack, the rape of Deborah is devastatingly direct. It kills any vestige of romance the gangster archetype has in film. The camera does not look away, and the scene lingers with terrifying ferocity and traumatic intimacy. There is a visible victim, and Noodles’ wealth and pretensions of honor are worthless.
The Ultimate Gangster Epic
Once Upon a Time in America brings one other element to the genre which The Godfather avoids, a lingering mystery. Coppola delivers short riddles, like the fate of Luca Brasi, which are revealed as the story warrants. But the 35-year gap between the slaughter of Noodles’ crew and the introduction of Secretary Bailey is almost unfathomable. How did Max go from long-dead to a man with legitimate power?
What happens to Noodles in those years is fairly easy to guess, without any specifics. He got by. The gang’s shared secret bankroll was empty when he tried to retrieve it as the last surviving member. He put his gun away and eked out a quiet life. But even as the details spill out on the true fate of Max, it is unexpectedly surprising, as much for the audience as Noodles.
“I took away your whole life from you,” Max/Bailey says. “I’ve been living in your place. I took everything. I took your money. I took your girl. All I left for you was 35 years of grief over having killed me. Now why don’t you shoot?” This final betrayal, and Noodles’ inert revenge, take Once Upon a Time In America into almost unexplored cinematic depths. 
Max has gone as low as he could go. The joke is on Noodles, everyone’s in on it, including “Clean Hands,” who is tied in to “the Bailey scandal.” The cops are in on it, and so is the mob. Max admits even the liquor dropoff was a syndicate set-up. He’d planned this all along. Just like Michael Corleone had a long term strategy to make his family legitimate. 
This is an ambitious story. Beyond genre, this bends American celluloid into European cinema. By sheer virtue of being outside of Hollywood, Leone transcends traditional boundaries. He has a far more limitless pallet to draw from. He can aim a camera at De Niro’s spoon in a coffee cup for three minutes and never lose the audience’s rapt attention. Leone can pull the rug out from everything with a last minute reveal. Coppola bent American filmmaking for The Godfather, but stayed within proscribed parameters. He never gets as sweet as a Charlotte Russe nor as repulsive as the back seat of a limo. 
Once Upon a Time in America ripped the genre’s insides out and displayed them with unflinching veracity and theatrical beauty. It is a perfect film, gorgeously shot, masterfully timed, and slightly ajar.
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rayatii · 3 years ago
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Raya Recounts: a brand-new series of overly-detailed opera summaries with unsolicited commentary!
The following summary originally started out as something I wrote out yesterday for @smile-at-the-stars, but then it became way too much for Tumblr’s PM section, so I decided to post it as a full text post for everyone else to see.
Let me know if you like these types of summaries and want more!
Episode 1: L’elisir d’amore
L’elisir d’amore (“The Love Potion / The Elixir of Love”) is a 2-act comic opera by Gaetano Donizetti. You guys, Donizetti is seriously one of my favorite composers in opera, specifically bel canto, because he was so incredibly versatile in terms of genre and language! On one hand, you have these harrowing tragedies like Lucia di Lammermoor, and on the other, you have these ridiculously hilarious comedies including Don Pasquale, La fille du régiment, Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali (aka Viva la mamma!), and the very opera that we’re about to look at! It’s most famous for the beautiful but borderline-overplayed tenor aria “Una furtiva lagrima”, but the whole thing is worth listening to from start to finish! The opera, which was written in only six weeks, was an instant success upon its premiere, and is still a standard in the repertoires of opera houses all over the world, big and small, and for good reason!
It’s, as you may have figured out, a bel canto opera, which means that nearly every number in it is a headbanger.
The libretto was written by Felice Romani (who wrote quite a few libretti for famous bel canto operas, including almost every single opera by Vincenzo Bellini, such as Norma and La somnambula, to name a couple), who based it on the libretto written by Eugène Scribe (responsible for Gioachino Rossini’s Le Comte Ory, Fromental Halévy’s La Juive, Giuseppe Verdi Les Vêpres siciliennes, and a bunch of stuff for Giacomo Meyerbeer) for the French comic opera Le philtre (“The Potion”) by Daniel Auber (whom you might vaguely recognize for Fra Diavolo, Gustave III, and Manon Lescaut). While I have read the libretto for Le philtre (in French), I haven’t ever seen the opera, because it is practically never being performed at all!  There aren’t even any full recordings of it on Spotify, besides exactly one recording of the overture and the entr’acte to Act 2, both of which slap super hard.
Now, back to our scheduled programming, and the infodump-y summarized plot of L’elisir d’amore!
I know I should be listing characters beforehand, but I really don’t like doing that, so I’ll guide you thought this incredibly-detailed summary by bolding the names whenever a solo character is first mentioned. Unless they are actual given names, I will try to explain their etymology (I’m obsessed with etymology).
(also, quick warning for potentially bad Italian translations)
Tolerate Enjoy!
Spoilers, of course!
After a slaptastic prelude in D major, Act 1 opens on a village in the Basque country (but it’s a common misconception that it’s set in Italy, which. logical tbh.) on a hot summer day (L’elisir is probably one of THE summer operas!!), with a chorus of peasants lounging around under the shade of a tree next to a river. According to the libretto, there are also some washerwomen washing some laundry on the riverbank.
Adina, a wealthy landowner (Wikipedia’s words), a soprano, is sitting down and reading a book. Nemorino (name meaning “little nobody”, presumably an Italian diminutive of the Latin term “nemo”, meaning “nobody”. Yup, just like the cartoon clownfish), a poor peasant and an obviously autistic tenor with little to no braincells who is hopelessly in love with Adina, stares at her longingly. The chorus sings about how great it feels to lounge under the shadow of a tree on a hot summer day, and also about how unlike the heat of the sun, the heat of love cannot be extinguished.
After that, Nemorino sings about his hopeless love for Adina, describing her as beautiful, intelligent and studious, and him having no chance at having her love him back because he describes himself as an idiot and as only capable of sighing (Aria: Quanto è bella, quanto è cara; “How beautiful she is, how dear she is”).
Adina suddenly laughs at something she just read in her book, and the peasants gather around her to listen to what she has to say. She tells them of the story of the love potion of Queen Isolde (Aria: Della crudele Isotta; “Of the cruel Isolde”).
The story here goes that Tristan was madly in love with Isolde, but she was a beautiful bitch who wouldn’t love him back, so Tristan went to see a wizard, who brewed him a love potion. Tristan drank the love potion (yeah, weird) and Isolde fell in love with him, and the two lived happily ever after (yes, I know this is absolutely not how it actually goes in the original myth, but I didn’t write the libretto, so don’t ask me). Everyone is like: “oh man, life would be so much better if such a potion did exist”. Nemorino in particular is mesmerized by the idea of getting a love potion to win Adina’s love.
A drumroll announces the arrival of a regiment of soldiers, guided by Belcore (name meaning “lovely heart” or something like that in Italian), an incredibly pompous baritone sergeant who thinks he’s Casanova incarnate and God’s gift to women. He immediately starts courting Adina (Aria: Come Paride vezzoso; “Like charming Paris”, Paris being the dude in Greek mythology who gave the golden apple to the fairest goddess, not the French capital; besides the golden apple reference (which he uses to compare it to himself giving Adina... some flowers), Belcore even goes further with the mythology metaphors with the line: “even the mother of love yields to Mars, the god of war”). Some other soldiers probably hook up with some village ladies.
Adina plays hard-to-get (including the line “they shout victory before even fighting”); she is internally not interested by Belcore’s advances, but Nemorino, who can’t really read in-between the lines because he’s autistic (why is he autistic? Because I said so and I’m right), becomes super-anxious at the idea of Belcore stealing Adina, and after everyone but her leaves the stage, decides to confess his love to her (Duet: Una parola, o Adina... Chiedi all’aura lusinghiera; “One word, o Adina... Ask the pleasant breeze” or something like that).
She already knows that he has been pining for her for a long time now, due to body language (so much sighing!). While she acknowledges Nemorino’s goodness and modesty, which she finds is very unlike the overconfident Belcore, she gently but firmly turns him down by claiming that faithful love is not her thing and that she manages to live contentedly and avoid heartbreak by taking a new lover each day, using the metaphor of the wind blowing here and there due to this simply being its nature, and she suggests that Nemorino follow suit and give up on his love for her and maybe go to town to visit his very sick uncle. But Nemorino won’t hear any of this, claiming that he can’t stop loving her, using the metaphor of a river flowing towards the sea due to being drawn there by an unknown force.
A trumpet sounding the arrival of the travelling “doctor” Dulcamara (which is apparently another name of the plant commonly known as the bittersweet), a grandiose bass, alerts the villagers. (In the libretto, he is accompanied by a servant who plays the trumpet to announce his arrival, but it’s not a really important detail, so some productions don’t add it in.) Dulcamara starts singing about his job of selling his supposedly miraculous concoctions for various ailments, ranging from wrinkles to liver pain as well as bedbugs and more, all for a very good price (Aria: Udite, udite, o rustici; “Hear ye, hear ye, o peasants” or something like that). The chorus is quite impressed.
Nemorino in particular is amazed by this supposedly amazing man and, after everyone leaves, asks him about the possibility that he may have the love potion of Queen Isolde. At first, Dulcamara doesn’t understand, but once he does and senses the opportunity to make himself some quick dough, he provides him with a bottle of what he claims to be a love potion for him to drink, telling him that it will take about 24 hours to work. Nemorino spends his entire live savings (one coin) on this one bottle. Dulcamara tells the audience that he actually sold Nemorino a bottle of cheap Bordeaux wine, and that by the time the 24-hour time span will have passed, he will be long gone with the money; that’s his usual charlatan tactic, but the overjoyed Nemorino does not suspect a thing.
He immediately drinks the “love potion” and quickly becomes drunk. Adina comes by and notices Nemorino, who’s just sitting there and ignoring her (he’s actually so confident of the potion’s success that he’s pretending to be indifferent to her). She is so used of having Nemorino hopelessly pining after her that she becomes unusually annoyed. (early sign of something??? ;) ) (Duet: Caro elisir! sei mio!... Esulti pur la barbara; “Dear elixir! you’re mine!... Let the barbarian rejoice”, you know, that duet performed at the Met at-home Gala from which I (well, technically @notyouraveragejulie) got that one meme format I use all the time.)
Nemorino claims to have started following her advice on him getting over his massive crush, and needing only one day to fully get over it, and Adina sarcastically congratulates him. Both Nemorino and Adina sneer internally about getting their own back on the other in a “rira bien qui rira le dernier” (“he who laughs last shall laugh the longest”, French idiom) type of way, he in a “laugh while you can, bitch, tomorrow you’ll be hopelessly in love with me >:)” way, and she in a “pretend while you can, bastard, eventually you’ll get crushed under the weight of your hopeless pining >:)” way.
They’re interrupted by the arrival of Belcore, who’s boastfully comparing the difficulty of courting Adina to a war siege (Trio: Tran, tran). Adina starts flirting with him to make Nemorino jealous.
Belcore proposes again to Adina, and she accepts solely in order to get revenge on Nemorino for... briefly pretending not to love her anymore? (EARLY SIGNS EARLY SIGNS EARLY SIGNS AMIRITE) (tho she doesn’t say it out loud). They schedule the wedding to be in six days’ time, and Nemorino absolutely rejoices, to the great confusion of the other two.
But then, Giannetta (a soprano peasant who is literally only promoted from being a simple chorister in order to help advance the plot throughout), accompanied by the peasants and Belcore’s soldiers, comes onstage with a note from Belcore’s captain, who is asking the entire regiment to leave the village on the next day. Belcore and Adina decide to get married later today, and Nemorino becomes REALLY upset, begging Adina to at least wait until tomorrow, but Adina won’t hear any of it. She rejoices at Nemorino’s despair, invites everyone to the wedding, and the act ends with pretty much everyone laughing at the poor crying Nemorino.
 Act 2 opens with an absolutely boptastic prelude in C major that includes an onstage brass band. Adina, Belcore, Dulcamara, Giannetta and the chorus are all sitting at the wedding banquet later that day, having a great time, except Adina is a bit desperate because Nemorino is not here, and she needs him to be there in order for her revenge to be complete.
Dulcamara gets Adina to sing with him a barcarole for two voices that he himself wrote, which tells the story of the old senator Tredenti (sung here by Dulcamara) who proposes marriage to the young gondolier Nina (sung here by Adina), promising her riches and stuff, and she is flattered but refuses his advances out of modesty, and also besides, she already has this other young gondolier, Zanetto, whom she likes (Duet: Io son ricco e tu sei bella; “I am rich and you are beautiful”, absolutely slaps). The whole chorus loves it and congratulates Dulcamara on his genius, which. I 100% get the former.
The notary arrives, and everyone goes offstage for the signing of the wedding contract. As Dulcamara lingers to help himself to some more food at the table, Nemorino comes onstage, completely distressed because he has seen the notary and now believes all his hopes are over. He asks Dulcamara for a way to quicken the effects of the potion. Dulcamara claims that more love potion will do the trick, and will also make him be loved by everyone. But when he hears that Nemorino doesn’t have any more money left, he’s like, “welp, too bad for you, man” and walks off.
Belcore comes by, confused because Adina keeps putting off signing the wedding contract for some unclear reason. He sees Nemorino and asks what’s wrong. Nemorino says he’s sad because he doesn’t have money. Belcore encourages him to enlist in the army, in exchange for a nice salary on the spot. Nemorino signs the military contract (logically, given his status, he should be illiterate, so he would sign an X on it, but I don’t think it’s usually made very clear), and gets his money. As Belcore talks about the Grand Military Life™ (and internally rejoices at sending his rival in love to his death), Nemorino is thinking about nothing but the money, the potion and getting Adina (Duet: Venti scudi; “Twenty coins” or something like that).
After both have left, Giannetta and the entire female chorus come onstage. Giannetta reveals that Nemorino’s uncle (remember? The one that Adina mentioned earlier) just died and left Nemorino an immense fortune. There is a lot of fangirling from all the ladies there. No one else knows about that, not even Nemorino or Adina, and they decide not to tell anyone.
Nemorino comes onstage, drunk out of his mind with even more “love potion” (sidenote, I don’t think I have ever seen anyone other than Roberto Alagna play Nemorino as so incredibly wasted as he usually plays him in that scene, and that’s kind of a real shame, tbh; that I haven’t seen anyone else play him this way, I mean), and the all women immediately start swarming him, he who has up till now always been pretty much known as the village idiot. Nemorino immediately assumes that it’s the “love potion” taking effect, and internally deduces that if the potion worked on all the women in the village, then it must also work on Adina.
When Adina comes and sees this, she has what is probably the biggest mindfuck of her entire life; she had planned to see her little longtime simp reduced to tears, and instead she sees him happily flirting with all these other women and barely even noticing her! And that fucking hurts!!! (another sign???) Dulcamara is also surprised to see that the potion-that-is-not-actually-a-potion seems to have actually worked (which is kinda stupid of him tbh, but whatever).
Adina says that she just learned from Belcore that Nemorino has enlisted in the army, and all the ladies despair. Nemorino tries to talk to Adina, but the other women beg him for a dance, and start fighting over who gets him first. Eventually Nemorino goes offstage, pursued by Giannetta and the chorus ladies.
Once they’re gone, Adina asks Dulcamara about the “love potion”. He tells her all about how Nemorino bought it because he was so desperate to gain the love of some beautiful heartless bitch. Adina realizes the sincerity and intensity of Nemorino’s love for her, and also comes to realize that she has truly loved him all along as well.
Dulcamara tries to sell her some “love potion” to win Nemorino back, but Adina turns it down, claiming that she already has her own metaphorical love potion, which she holds in her good looks and her smile and stuff like that (Duet: Una tenera occhiatina; “A tender glance”); if she had Nemorino’s heart by her own means before, then she will be able to win it back the same way! Dulcamara fully agrees and they both go offstage.
Nemorino comes onstage, pensive (THAT’S IT, THAT’S THE BIG ARIA THAT EVERY SINGLE LYRIC TENOR EVER HAS EVER SUNG IN A CONCERT HALL!!!! Una furtiva lagrima; “A furtive tear”); he has seen a tear (no shit!) in Adina’s eye when she witnessed him with the other women, which he attributes to envy. He immediately deduces that she also loves him. He now loves her more than ever, and fantasizes about feeling the palpitations of her heart, and hearing her sighs mixing with his own sighs, if only for a short while (the lyrics of this verse, particularly the bit about the heart palpitations, feel strangely intimate to me in some way, and I love it). He is so incredibly happy and ecstatic that he says he might as well die on the spot, for he has nothing more to ask for in his life. He probably sheds tears of joy.
(Fun fact for those who don’t know: there is a famous cadenza at the end of the aria that is not actually written down in the score (including the line “si può morir d'amor”; “one can die of love”), but is nowadays the most popular way of concluding the aria (listen for example to Luciano Pavarotti perform it this way; cadenza starts at 3:57). But because almost every tenor does it, it’s getting a bit redundant imo, especially since bel canto as a genre is meant to specialize in showcasing performers’ vocal virtuosity, and therefore relies quite a bit on improv in some places.)
Adina comes onstage, and says she has bought Nemorino’s military contract back from Belcore. She asks him why he decided to join the army.
(Another fun fact interruption! The composer Donizetti himself apparently managed not to have to serve in the Austrian army, thanks to a rich woman (whose name I sadly could not find) who bought his military contract in order to keep him from serving.)
Nemorino claims to want a better life, but Adina begs him to reconsider. Nemorino internally senses that it’s love and the fear of losing him that make her speak so. Adina begs him to stay, since everyone in the village seems to love him now (Aria: Prendi, per me sei libero; “Here, take it, it’s thanks to me that you’re free”).
After the aria concludes, she starts to take leave of him. The surprised Nemorino asks her if she has anything else to say. She says she doesn’t. He’s like, “well, since I’m not loved, I want to die a soldier!” This causes Adina to actually confess her genuine love for him, and she expresses the desire to make him happy after having tried to make him miserable all this time, and swears him eternal love. Nemorino is practically over the moon. The contract gets ripped, and the two of them kiss. (Well, in the libretto, it’s only written that Nemorino throws himself at Adina’s feet, but honestly it works better to have them actually smooch instead.)
When Belcore comes and sees them making out, he starts getting angry, but Adina reveals that she actually only went with the whole wedding thing in order to make Nemorino jealous. Belcore decides that there’s plenty of fish in the sea. (Many productions, including the 2018 Met production, have him and Giannetta express interest in each other then, but I think the 1996 Lyon production in particular does it pretty well because it shows him actually about to court Giannetta when he first comes onstage in Act 1, until he sees Adina.)
Then Dulcamara publicly announces the news about Nemorino’s massive inheritance, and happily boasts about the “love potion” being responsible for all these turns of events. Everyone rushes to buy some of that miraculous “love potion”, leaving Dulcamara filthy rich (in the first-ever production that I watched (a 2016 college production from Montreal, it has subs), the chorus people all stretch out their hands holding money in Dulcamara’s direction, and honestly this image is so visually iconic, why isn’t it used more often???). Nemorino and Adina may or may not sign the marriage contract onstage, depending on the director’s choices. The opera ends with a reprise of the melody from “Io son ricco e tu sei bella” with different lyrics as everyone waves goodbye to Dulcamara. The curtain drops, and everyone lives happily ever after as far as we know.
The end! ❤❤❤ This has been an overly-detailed opera summary with unsolicited commentary, I hope you enjoyed ;)
- Raya / rayatii
(PS: Yours Truly loves this opera so much that she has made too many picrews of the two mains, let me know if anyone desires to be objected to them)
(PPS: sorry for this huge post. Have this cute little summary of the opera narrated and illustrated by none other than Rolando Villazón himself!!!!)
(PPPS: maybe it’s an unpopular opinion, but if you think about it, from what we can gather from the libretto and the opera itself, Nemorino is not an incel; he simply does not present the more common signs associated with incels. I should maybe make a post about it someday, now that I think about it... Unfortunately, I have heard of at least one opera production portraying him as such, which. no, that’s my autistic cinnamon baby tenor son, you have no right of doing that, leave him alone 😢)
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