#opera rambles

*In the Victorien Sardou play, Tosca makes, like, one reference to the fact that she keeps having to confess her and Cavaradossi's sins to her priest. But this reference is made in the context of intense flirting with Cavaradossi, so I'm gonna assume that Catholic guilt isn't really a big issue here.

Highlights of this show were:

• Leporello dragging in a super drunk and passed out Giovanni will always be a highlight of the overture, but this time, instead of the Don being kinda concious and just leaning onto Leperello, Leporello had Giovanni fully passed out on his back with Giovanni's legs around Leporello's waist

• Giovanni had a manbun.

• Because of said manbun, his wig for the disguise as Ottavio in act 1 kept on falling off constantly, so he had to literally hold it on his head with one hand until he started to make out with Anna. Then, he just yeeted it to the floor

• The same as above went for the hat that was part of the disguise in act 2

• Donna Elvira beating up Giovanni with the veil and buquet she brought as a proof of him trying to marry to her

• Elvira very angrily tearing out all the pages in Leporello's catalogue during the catalogue aria, tearing up individual pages, throwing the small torn up bits into the air like confetti and then sobbing

• Elvira in general just was amazing

• Before La ci darem la mano, a nook in one of the walls opens up into a library and Giovanni is supposed to say his proposal to Zerlina from there. Giovanni tonight was very excited to be in this nook, because he flailed his arms around so much that he ended up knocking down something out of metal, that gave a very loud bang when it landed on the ground

• Zerlina handing Masetto a whip to beat her up during Batti batti o bel Masetto and then proceeding to tie her own wrists to ties from some drapes.

• Masetto hiding behind a changing screen during the short scene before the act 1 finale. He was constantly peeking out at Giovanni trying to seduce Zerlina, so while being polite to Giovanni, Zerlina was frantiaclly gesturing for Masetto to hide

• Ottavio visibly being socially awkward, especially when responding to Leporello to coming to Giovanni's party. Poor dude literally looked at Anna and Elvira like ",out of the three of us, why am I supposed to be the one talking?"

• Giovanni beating up Leporello with Zerlina's whip while trying to blame him for copping a feel on Zerlina

• Leporello carrying a small suitcase with his clothes with him throughout act 2, being ready to leave whenever necessary

• Giovanni calling Leporello back by pretending to have stabbed himself in anguish and when Leporello went to inspect the wound, Giovanni handed him the four ducats to stay

• Zerlina hitting Leporello with the whip from act 1 for beating up Masetto

• Elvira hitting Leporello with the coat he used as a gisguise as Giovanni

• Giovanni practicing his sword moves in front of a mirror during the Graveyard scene

• During the finale feast, Giovanni got himself a bunch of grapes to snack on, but instead he kept on giving grapes to the dancers. Then, he almost deepthroated the whole bunch, but stopped because he had to sing his lines

• Leporello stole himself an entire chicken leg and went to eat it to the edge of the stage, his legs dangling into the orchestra pit. I think a piece of the chicken ended up falling onto some poor musician that was sitting underneath him

But the second Tosca mentions that her hands were covered in blood, Cavaradossi immediately pivots to speaking to Tosca's hands instead, which is a fascinating move. This type of language deflects blame from Tosca as a person by confining the full weight of her actions solely to her hands, which are discussed as if they are independent from the rest of Tosca. The next (and final) time Cavaradossi brings up the fact that Tosca killed Scarpia, he addresses her hands alone as having committed the act ("Voi deste morte, o man vittoriose").

It's also worth noting that this synecdochical treatment of Tosca's hands feels reminiscent of Tosca's own language in Act 1. There, the Marchesa Attavanti's blue eyes become an entire symbol unto themselves for Tosca about her lover's fidelity, and while the tone is infinitely lighter because the stakes are so much lower at that point in the plot, Tosca's insistence on Cavaradossi's painting of the Maddalena having dark eyes similarly can be seen as her way of indirectly speaking around insecurities that are too overwhelming for her to discuss directly. In adopting Tosca's own method of indirect communication about another issue too painful to face head-on, Cavaradossi is not just protecting Tosca from the onslaught of her own guilt, he's showing his willingness to speak in her own idiom, which is in itself a sign of love.

But this arietta isn't only about Cavaradossi's love and gratitude for Tosca. In a moment where Tosca is overwhelmed by having done something she never could have imagined doing, Cavaradossi begins by grounding her in reminders of who she actually is: a woman who is gentle and pure, a woman who has always piously thought of the unfortunate. When the issue of Scarpia's death returns after these reminders of Tosca's inherent goodness, Cavaradossi frames it as Justice placing sacred weapons in Tosca's hands so that they can achieve victories. By Cavaradossi's account, then, Scarpia's death resulted from an external force (Justice) pushing the hands of a fundamentally good and peaceful person into an anomalous and ultimately righteous action.

But my friend, being brilliant, then turned *that* into this whole Konzept in which Ancient Greek Cio-cio san is overly influenced by Homeric poetry and decides to cast herself as a Penelope figure, faithfully waiting for her husband to return to her from across the sea. She rejects Prince Yamadori as being the equivalent of one the suitors who camps out on Ithaka, trying to win Penelope's hand; she views Dolore as her Telemachus. And, in the end, she kills herself not so much because she's lost the man she loved, as because she realizes she's been living her life according to an unsustainable fantasy this entire time, and she has no idea how to make sense of the world around her now.

Analyzed roughly in order of appearance.

Scarpia:

The start of the whole darn opera. Bombastic horns playing a giant tritone in the bass to indicate with the "devil's interval" that This Is The Villain, pretty sick way to begin a show. I'm leaving out all the versions with fun flourishes that occur once Scarpia enters the stage, for the sake of simplicity because this Leitmotiv is all over this score, but god, do I love those, too!

Angelotti:

Angelotti frantically on the run...

... and Angelotti anxiously in hiding. (This is the loud version where Angelotti reveals himself to Cavaradossi, but there's a quieter, pizzicato version, too, when he retreats back into the Cappella Attavanti.)

Curiously, both of these themes appear when Tosca is raging over the fact that Cavaradossi has painted the Marchesa Attavanti, so, make of that what you will... maybe the Angelotti siblings kinda blurred together in Puccini's mind?

The Sacristan:

The cheeriest little tune! It accompanies every one of the Sacristan's entrances and exits, even after Scarpia turns up.

Mario Cavaradossi:

A fabulous, heroic theme for a fabulous, heroic character. This plays when Cavaradossi first unveils his portrait of the Marchesa Attavanti, then again when he and Angelotti are discussing the Marchesa's role in Angelotti's escape plans, then again right after Scarpia discovers the Marchesa's portrait and asks who painted it. (Did I think it was actually a Leitmotiv for the Marchesa Attavanti for a while? Absolutely, until I saw the error of my ways, which I should have done far sooner, because this theme literally accompanies the first mention of Cavaradossi's name in the opera.) It also appears when Spoletta is pouting at the start of Act 2 over the fact that Cavaradossi wouldn't give up Angelotti's location when confronted at his villa. Most notably, though, this theme plays under all those trumpets right before Cavaradossi goes on his "Vittoria!" spree in Act 2.

Marchesa Attavanti:

I know, she doesn't even appear onstage, weird that she gets her own Leitmotiv, I don't make the rules. This line from "Recondita armonia" is probably a more accurate theme for the Marchesa Attavanti, with the above iteration from the end of the aria, although it also reappears when Scarpia is looking at the portrait and recognizes the Marchesa, and when Scarpia lies to Tosca about where he found the fan.

Floria Tosca:

This is from Tosca's first entrance, but the same theme also forms the melodic basis of "Qual'occhio al mondo" a few minutes later (savvy move to placate your girlfriend's jealousy by singing her own Leitmotiv at her!). It's all over Act 2, as well, both when Scarpia is thinking about Tosca, and then when she actually enters the stage. And, notably, this theme forms the accompanying line of "Vissi d'arte."

Also a moment of appreciation for how this little figure from the end of the above entrance music appears during and after "Non la sospiri, la nostra casetta" ... and then again as part of the melodic line of "Vissi d'arte," both at "diedi fiori agli altare" (appropriate, since we first hear it when Tosca is actively leaving those flowers at the altar!) and in modified form at the big climactic "perché, perché Signor."

Love Theme:

Obviously sung by Mario and Floria together in the second half of their lengthy in-church flirtations in Act 1, but also appears when Floria comes looking for Mario at the end of the act, and again when she departs in a state of despondency over a fan. It also pops up again at the start of Act 2, when Scarpia reflects on the fact that Tosca will come to him out of love for her Mario. It doesn't *quite* appear at the beginning of Act 3, although it certainly feels like it's creeping its way in amongst all those Roman bells... but it comes back in real style with that gorgeous cello rendition while Cavaradossi is writing that letter to Tosca from prison, and then again when Tosca herself enters after "E lucevan le stelle"!

The Well:

A piano reduction can't create the full haunting impression that all those hollow-sounding woodwinds create, but I totally love that the well in the garden of Cavaradossi's villa gets its very own little Leitmotiv. 🥰 Recurs in very aggressive format in Act 2, when Scarpia is interrogating Cavaradossi about Angelotti's whereabouts, and then again when Tosca spills the beans, and finally when Scarpia loudly sends Spoletta out to the well to arrest Angelotti.

(Interestingly, a variant of this theme also appears towards the end of Act 2, when Angelotti is already dead, and Scarpia and Spoletta are hatching evil schemes revolving around a mutual understanding of what happened to Conte Palmieri... so maybe this theme applies more broadly to sad republicans trapped in unpleasant Scarpia-related fates?)

Fugitive Theme:

I actually stole this nomenclature from something I was reading about this opera, and it makes sense, since this music plays when Scarpia is examining the Marchesa Attavanti's fan, as well as when Tosca gets to the "Dove son?" bit of her imagining Cavaradossi's hypothetical affair with the Marchesa Attavanti (alongside Angelotti's actual theme—even more confusion between the Angelotti sibs!), and it's interwoven into all of Scarpia's fantasies at the top of Act 2 about capturing and executing Angelotti and Cavaradossi. That said, I low-key think of it as the "Castel Sant'Angelo Theme" because I challenge you to so much as look at that monument without singing "fuggì pur ora da Castel Sant'Angelo" to yourself to the tune in the bass line here...

Palazzo Farnese:

Maybe better described as Scarpia's "lounging about the Palazzo Farnese while thinking evil thoughts" theme, but it recurs frequently at the start of Act 2, intermixed with other Leitmotivs (e.g., the Castel Sant'Angelo theme, the love theme, Tosca's theme, obviously Scarpia's theme), until Spoletta turns up to report the news.

This feels like it lives alongside that other theme, in terms of being Scarpia's "lounging about the Palazzo Farnese while thinking evil thoughts but simultaneously pretending to be nice to Tosca" music, given it comes up pre-torture scene, and then post-"Vittoria!" scene.

Interrogation Music:

Questioning Cavaradossi, with the cantata occurring in the background... this comes back when Cavaradossi's body is dragged back onstage post-torture, before he regains consciousness to Tosca's theme.

This really feels to me like the music that sets up the dynamic between Tosca and Scarpia throughout this act. It plays when Tosca is left with Scarpia for questioning, and then later when Tosca anxiously questions Mario while he's offstage being tortured.

Straight-up torture and stuff.

Tosca's Suffering:

I kinda love how Scarpia's charging ahead with the torture theme in elongated form here, while Tosca's line introduces that little triplet-filled melodic gesture that turns up later in the orchestrations as a theme for Tosca's suffering throughout Act 2. Said gesture comes back after all the "Vittoria!" business, when Tosca is screaming as Scarpia's goons are dragging Cavaradossi off to prison; and then when Tosca threatens to throw herself out a window rather than let herself be ravished by Scarpia (foreshadowing!); and then when she's screaming for help right before her big aria; and finally—and most memorably—at the climax of "Vissi d'arte."

Getting Screwed by Scarpia:

I once heard a lecture in which the speaker pointed out that the A-C theme heard throughout this section—during which Tosca usually nods her assent to Scarpia's bargain—is actually a terrible musical pun. Those two notes in Italian would be signified as "la do," which also means "I'm giving it to you," which... yeah, in context, yikes. Notably, that same minor-third figure returns during Cavaradossi's execution, and then in the really violent chords right before Spoletta and Tosca's final exchange at the very end of the opera, so. Similar sentiment of getting screwed by Scarpia, living or dead?

"We Should Totally Just Stab Scarpia!":

Well, I mean, this is the music from just before and just after all the stabbing actually occurs—so, when Tosca is contemplating stabbing him and then reconciling herself to the fact that she just has, but. Close enough? I love how this theme then collapses into Tosca's theme as she goes and fetches some candelabras and a crucifix, followed by a bunch of slow, menacing iterations of Scarpia's Leitmotiv (dude gets to be scary even in death!). And of course it comes back in Act 3, when Tosca is doing her quick little recap of the second half of Act 2 for Mario.

Doomed Love Theme:

In the context of the opera, of course, Scarpia is talking about the irony of the fact that he only is going to be able to exercise control over Tosca because of her love for Cavaradossi—profound love becomes profound misery, when people are forced to do miserable things to save their loved ones. But I've been thinking about Scarpia's statement on a more metatheatrical level, and how it reads in relation to how the most impactful Scarpias interact with their Toscas.

I've already written far too much about how unspeakably awful Terfel's Scarpia was to Radvanovsky's Tosca—which was exactly the level of intensity I wanted from both of them, but that didn't make it any easier to watch. What's been going through my mind over the past 24 hours is more focused on the deep levels of respect and trust that need to exist before two performers can even *contemplate* going to those dramatic extremes onstage together.

During the post-show discussion, all three leads in the production talked about how gratifying it was to be able to really play off one another, and actually *react* to whatever anyone happened to be offering during any given performance. Terfel also mentioned that a tiny bit of blocking had been borrowed from Maria Callas and Tito Gobbi's recorded 1964 performance of these roles, and I've been turning that fact over in my mind, as well. Callas and Gobbi were famous for playing Tosca and Scarpia opposite one another, in no small part because they were such close friends, and they trusted each other completely even when putting each other in very vulnerable places onstage. In my opinion, Radvanovsky and Terfel went to even greater extremes than Callas and Gobbi, in terms of the physical violence that occurred between their characters throughout the act, and I truly believe that I now understand the thrill of those who got to see Callas and Gobbi perform opposite one another, back in the day.

I don't think I would have or could have appreciated these parallels as strongly, however, if I hadn't seen Radvanovsky and Terfel interacting as themselves during the post-show discussion. It's one thing to leave a performance contemplating the interactions between the characters; it's another to step away considering both the characters' interpersonal dynamics and those of the individuals who play them. Which circles back around to the whole issue of trust, and just how much of it must have gone into the process of choreographing, rehearsing, and then selling such intensely brutal blocking (the sort of stuff taught in stage combat classes, really). I don't know how often Radvanovsky and Terfel have sung opposite one another, but they came across as performers who had built a very genuine and trusting working relationship over the course of years, which isn't always the case in an industry where big names often fly in to take over roles in pre-established productions, with only the bare minimum time provided to learn the staging and work with their costars.

Scarpia's line interests me on a meta level for many reasons, with respect to this whole matter of needing trust to create a truly outstanding and horrifying dynamic between the two characters in this act. After all, ironically, the entire plot of the opera hinges on a single moment in which Tosca misplaces her trust in Scarpia. But, if trust is tantamount in some senses to love, then it seems right to say that, in Act 2 of this opera, the most profound misery stems from the most profound love in a meta sense, as well as in a narrative one. If a Tosca doesn't trust and respect a Scarpia enough to take the emotional and dramatic risks that are needed for this scene (and vice versa), then the entire interaction between the two is never going to reach the level of intensity (and, yes, misery) that will take the audience's breath away.

To break things down:

Slow Introductory Recitative ("È strano" / "No word from Tom"): Soprano muses over the hold that an absent tenor has over her heart and is conflicted over what she should do about it.

Pensive Arietta ("Ah, fors'è lui" / "Quietly, night"): Soprano spends two strophic verses (with flashy embellishments at the end of the second, naturally) reflecting on what the presence/absence of this tenor could change in her life and her ability to love.

Interrupting Recitative ("Follie, follie!" / "My father!"): Soprano suddenly second-guesses her previous emotions in a short and comparatively strident recit that ends in a declaratory decision about how she's going to handle the situation—although Violetta rejects her Pensive Arietta feelings, while Anne Trulove doubles down on hers.

Showy Decisive Aria ("Sempre libera" / "I go, I go to him"): Soprano sings two repeated verses about whatever decision she's made about how to handle this tenor situation, slowing between the two verses for a brief interlude of subtle doubt about her choice, before once more charging full steam ahead. Extended coloratura runs and high notes abound. Curtain down on Act 1 to thunderous applause.

And, of course, both characters' thoughts and decisions are impacted throughout by the voices of male characters heard from offstage.

This was my second time at the opera, and I was a little nervous, given that it was an abridged performance, but it was incredible!

It was performed outside, and everyone's parties were socially distanced.

The staging was rather contemporary, and all of the soloists had microphones, since they were performing over such a large area outdoors. Another small note was that the chorus was entirely off-stage, which I didn't much care for, but I completely get why they did it. One final change was that Josè's knife at the end was replaced with a gun, which I think added a lot to the horror of the final scene (I was actually fully in tears at the finale- it was so well done!)

J'nai Bridges' performance as Carmen was amazing! Every note she sang was perfect, and all of her high notes were completely exhilarating! Honestly, she was a perfect Carmen.

Janai Brugger's performance as Micaëla was also incredible! I actually almost cried during her 3rd act aria! She was also a perfect casting choice.

Stephen Costello's performance as Don Josè was simarly very impressive. His 2nd act aria was especially touching!

Finally, Christian Pursell's performance as Escamillo was incredible. His rendition of 'Votre toast' was thrilling- I loved it! His Escamillo was extremely charming.

Overall, this was an incredible performance! I really can't wait to see the Cincinnati opera perform again!