Whenever I read complaints about operatic plots or libretti as being unbelievable I just want to shake my head, scream or both. This insistence of "realism" by some is something that has absolutely nothing to do with the art form of opera and, frankly, does not belong there. For starters, we're talking about an art form where everything is sung, so, immediately, right off the bat, we are entering into a dramatic art form (or entertainment if you will) which is in an entirely different realm than any other.
These criticisms, and ignorant rantings, are, more than any work I can think of, most frequently laid at the feet of one of the greatest Italian works in the repertoire, Verdi's Il Trovatore.
Verdi was consumed by Gutierrez's early 19th century Spanish drama, El Trovador, which had been translated for him into Italian by then girlfriend, Giuseppina Strepponi, and he turned immediately to one of the greatest librettists, Salvadore Cammarano for a treatment to begin his opera.
Cammarano was a man of impeccable taste, theatrical wisdom (Budden refers to him as "the born operatic poet") and Verdi understood right away, he was he was right the man for the job. Cammarano was born into a theatrical family, his father being a highly respected set designer and scenery painter. And, lest we forget, Cammarano was the genius who gave us Lucia, Poliuto, L'assidio di Calais, Roberto Devereux, Maria di Rohan, Luisa Miller, and much more. Still, there seemed to be some uneasiness between composer and librettist, Verdi asking for more bizarre and bold elements of the Spanish drama while Cammarano was infusing the work with more poetry than passion for Verdi's taste. During most of their work together they were in constant communication, but then there became stretches Verdi went without hearing from Cammarano. All of this was, of course, further complicated by Cammarano's death before they could complete the project. Eventually, Leone Emanuele Badare made additions to Cammarano's libretto before the prima.
As to the original source, Gutierrez's play, it was viewed by critics and public alike as a revelation and enjoyed wild success, which (not unlike some of his other works) brought a source of inspirational genius to Verdi who "had to have it." What's remarkable is that, even today, scholars still consider El Trovador to be among the first and greatest of modern works commentating upon the corrupt irrationality of rival political and social factions seeking complete control of their worlds. Also, just to up the dramatic ante, the play remains a harsh commentary upon the blind rage vendettas that needlessly took so many lives for centuries. Sound familiar to anyone?
If someone finds Trovatore to be too far-fetched or unbelievable, well, that's their problem, isn't it. It sure is not mine, and it sure was not Verdi's.
In Trovatore, Verdi, (and other composers similarly in other works), were able to see not only beyond any perceived deficiencies of the art form, but, if they saw them at all, then only as challenges to be faced head on, and without apology. In so doing, the composer cuts out . . . designs and creates a world he believed in, and presents us with an invitation to enter into it and escape from reality. To complain "it's not real enough for me" is . . . well, frankly stupid.
Sadly, more so than in Verdi's time, we find ourselves living in an age where people are too comfortable . . . too limited, and tend to apply their own modern sensibilities and logic separate from the characters' and to me, that's just a lousy way to enjoy opera . . . as well as calling into question the nature of enjoyment.
To question, Azucena's motives, or Di Luna and Manrico's actions and contemplate them with "Well, I'd never have done that" is to miss the point entirely. To complain about Leonore's motives and behavior is, unless you're a teenage noble woman living in fictional 15th century Spain, idiotic.
It becomes all the more frustrating to witness how, as far as entertainment goes, we as a society are accepting of more "far out" occurrences in our other entertainments, e.g., movies where men can fly, spin spider webs out of their wrists, stop time, science fiction and super heroes who defy both death and gravity, yet we have great difficulty buying into the tales of gypsies and curses. It's puzzling to me, particularly, as the time when people actually believed such things, behaved similarly to these characters, are not only not far removed from our own era - but, in many instances, still with us. Add to all of this Verdi's impeccable, tuneful, passionate, hit laden score, and arguments against it - any and all of them- are laid to rest and ultimately meaningless.
Long Live The Troubadour!
The problems of the opera (I agree with you: WHAT problems?) most often cited are two: first, in boiling the play down to libretto size, much of the action has been placed offstage, with an awkward effect on clarity, at least if one has never encountered it before. Reflexive action, only made clear by description afterwards, is the bane of many opera libretti — the Ring, anybody, with its long explanations of what happened in previous operas? But Verdi’s music has little patience for that. And why should it? Just because Act II scene 1 is a little incomprehensible?
ReplyDeleteSecond, and more serious, the sheer unlikelihood of mixing up babies at the pyreside and then deciding to make the best of it is a bit of a sticky wicket for modern audiences. Vera Galupe-Borzkh still claims to find it incomprehensible. Although with her accent, I’m not surprised.
To newbies at Trovatore, I’d just say: Follow the symmetries. Scene 1 of each of the first three acts follows the Gypsy plot. Scene 2 of those first three acts is devoted to the love story — two boys love one girl in the middle of a civil war. What’s the problem? Act IV pulls a switcheroo in that scene 1 is devoted to the love story. Scene 2 ties everything up neatly. Curtain.