Eva Marton sings "Sola, perduta, abbandonata" from the last act of Puccini's Manon Lescaut, Budapest Congress Center, 1988
Sola, perduta, abbandonata
in landa desolata!
Orror! Intorno a me s'oscura il ciel.
Ahime, son sola!
E nel profondo deserto io cado,
strazio crudel, ah, sola, abbandonata,
io la deserta donna!
Ah, non voglio morir!
Tutto e dunque finito.
Terra di pace mi sembrava questa
Ah, mia belta funesta
ire novelle accende
strappar da lui mi si volea; or tutto
il mio passato orribile risorge,
e vivo innanzi al guardo mio si posa.
Ah, di sangue s'e macchiato!
Ah, tutto e finito;
asil di pace ora la tomba invoco
No, non voglio morir. Amore, aita!
(from 6lyrics.com)
Alone, lost, abandoned.
in this desolate plain!
Ah, the horror of it!
Around me
the day darkens. Alas I am alone!
And in the depth of this desert I fall -
what cruel torment!
Ah! alone, abandoned,
a woman deserted!
Ah! I do not want to die,
no, I do not want to die.
So all is over.
I thought this would be a land of peace.
Alas! my fatal beauty
arouses fresh troubles,
they wanted to snatch me from him.
Now all my past
rises up starkly
and stands vividly before my gaze.
Ah! It is stained with blood
Ah! All is over!
As a haven of peace
I now invoke the tomb.
No, I do not want to die,
I do not want to die,
No, no, I do not want to die: love, help me.
Licinio Refice is well-known in Italy, or so I understand. But in the U.S., he is practically unknown. A verismo Italian composer, following in the tradition of Puccini and Mascagni, with a dash of plainsong from church music (he was a composer for the Vatican, after all), Refice produced one sublime opera that definitely deserves production by some major U.S. opera company: Cecilia.
The great 1950s soprano Renata Tebaldi sung Refice, and here are two examples, both from the opera Cecilia. -- It doesn't more beautiful and soulful than this.
I found online, at a blog by "scheherezhade" this this YouTube video of soprano Renata Tebaldi singing the aria "L'altra notte in fondo al mare." It was always one of my favorite arias on an old CD collection of Tebaldi's performances, but I'd never seen it on YouTube. There are other versions by other sopranos probably just as good (yes, Maria Callas fans), but this is the way I heard this magnificent piece first, and it still sends chills down my spine.
L'altra notte in fondo al mare
Il mio bimbo hanno gittato,
Or per farmi delirare dicon ch'io
L'abbia affogato.
L'aura a fredda,
Il carcer fosco,
E la mesta anima mia
Come il passero del bosco
Vola, vola, vola via.
Ah! Pieta di me!
In letargico sopore
E' mia madre addormentata,
E per colmo dell'orrore dicon ch'io
L'abbia attoscata.
L'aura a fredda,
Il carcer fosco,
E la mesta anima mia
Come il passero del bosco
Vola, vola, vola via.
Ah! Pieta di me!
Scheherezhade gives as translation: "the other night into the sea they cast my child and now to send me mad they say I drowned her. The air is cold, the prison is gloomy and my spirit like a bird in the wood flies, flies away. Ah, have pity on me. Into a lethargic slumber my mother fell sleeping and now the supreme horror they say I poisoned her. The air is cold, etc."
Of course, this famous aria is from the great opera Mefistofele by Arrigo Boito.
A devotee of Claudio Muzio (1889-1936 ) posted this video of Muzio singing the rarely recorded but hauntingly beautiful "Ombra di Nube" by the Italian verismo composer (and priest) Licinio Refice (1885-1954).
The scene between the Princess and the young nun, Angelica, is one of the greatest presentations of religious fanaticism ever set to music. Chilling! - The Princess's "mystical vision" (rather nightmare of religious condemnation) begins in the video at 6:20.
Fedora Barbieri and Victoria de los Angeles sing Suor Angelica by Giacomo Puccini, Orchestra del Teatro dell`Opera di Roma, Tullio Serafin, conductor
THE PRINCESS
Often, on an evening,
there in our chapel I pray.
In the silence of those prayers
my spirit seems to leave me
and join your mother's
in secret, ethereal communion!
How painful, how painful it is to hear
the dead mourn and weep!
When the mystical trance passes,
I have only one word to say to you:
Atone! Atone!
I offer my justice
to the Blessed Virgin!
[Nel silenzio di quei raccoglimenti,
il mio spirito par che s'allontani
e s'incontri con quel di vostra madre
in colloqui eterei, arcani!
Come è penoso, come è penoso
udire i morti dolorare e piangere!
Quando l'estasi mistica scompare
per voi serbata ho una parola sola:
Espiare! Espiare!
Offritela alla Vergine
la mia giustizia!] English/Italian link
Lisa Della Casa as Ariadne in Richard Strauss' Ariadne auf Naxos (Libretto by Hugo von Hofmannstal), Berliner Philharmoniker (1959)"Es gibt ein Reich wo alles rein ist"/"There is a realm where all things are pure..." YouTube link
Am I free now?
Truly free?
Then thus I give you
my freedom's first greeting!
Since by curse it came to me,
accursed be this ring!
Since its gold gave me
measureless might,
now may its magic bring
death to whoever wears it!
It shall gladden
no happy man;
its bright gleam shall light
on no one lucky!
Whoever possesses it
shall be consumed with care,
and whoever has it not
be gnawed with envy!
Each shall itch
to possess it,
but none in it
shall find pleasure!
Its owner shall guard it profitlessly,
for through it he shall meet his executioner!
Forfeit to death,
faint with fear shall he be fettered;
the length of his life
he shall long to die,
the ring's master
to the ring a slave,
until again I hold in my hands
what was stolen!
Thus, in direst distress,
the Niblung blesses
his ring!
Keep it now,
guard it well;
my curse you cannot escape!
Renata Tebaldi singing Liu's aria from the second act of Giuseppe Puccini's opera Turandot. The slave Liu is being tortured to give her owner's name, but she resists, even as the crowd around her screams for her to speak and give up the name. In the end, she grabs a nearby knife and stabs herself, as the crowd continues to scream for her to reveal her secret.
"Parla! Parla! Parla!
Il nome! Il nome!"
Despite its grisly ending and subject matter, this is one of the world's most beautiful and recorded arias.
Written to a sparse libretto by Samuel Beckett, this is Feldman's only opera. The clip below is of the first ten minutes of a filed version by Barrie Gavin. The Radio-Sinfonie-Orchestra of Frankfurt is conducted by Zoltan Pesko.
from Puccini's opera Tosca, performed by the radiant Leontyne Price, 1965
My other favorite rendition of this aria is by Renata Tebaldi, and can be heard here.
Sempre con fè sincera la mia preghiera ai santi tabernacoli salì. Sempre con fè sincera diedi fiori agl’altar. Nell’ora del dolore perchè, perchè, Signore, perchè me ne rimuneri così?
Always with true faith my prayer rose to the holy shrines. Always with true faith I gave flowers to the altar. In the hour of grief why, why, o Lord, why do you reward me thus?
Barbarus hic ego sum, quia non intelligor illis. — Ovid
With the economy imploding, and the wars, and crimes, and torture, and impotent political posturing -- even as the pockets of the people are picked on a daily basis -- there is a time, there must be a time for beauty, for a time apart the madness. We must remember what our humanity is, and why we even bother with the onus of civilization, with its exploitation and its barbarism.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau, in his famous essay, "Discourse on the Arts and Sciences," provocatively asked whether it wasn't such condolences that bound us ever tighter to the chains of oppression:
So long as government and law provide for the security and well-being of men in their common life, the arts, literature and the sciences, less despotic though perhaps more powerful, fling garlands of flowers over the chains which weigh them down. They stifle in men’s breasts that sense of original liberty, for which they seem to have been born; cause them to love their own slavery, and so make of them what is called a civilised people....
What would become of the arts, were they not cherished by luxury? If men were not unjust, of what use were jurisprudence? What would become of history, if there were no tyrants, wars, or conspiracies? In a word, who would pass his life in barren speculations, if everybody, attentive only to the obligations of humanity and the necessities of nature, spent his whole life in serving his country, obliging his friends, and relieving the unhappy? Are we then made to live and die on the brink of that well at the bottom of which Truth lies hid?
Let it be remarked here that Rousseau went on to write one of Europe's first and most popular novels, and even composed an opera of his own!
But philosophy is not my intent here, only to select a respite from the sorry spectacle that 21st century capitalism has provided us, and the sure prospect that, unless humanity grab history in its puissant fist, things will only be getting worse.
The following aria and duet from Richard Strauss's opera, Arabella, is some of the most beautiful music I have ever heard. The duet between the sisters in the last minute is as close to perfection as one will ever hear in vocal music. Who cares that the subtitles are in another language (Finnish?)?
Enjoy, and remember John Keats' epoch-making words:
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits.
"Ich danke Fräulein - Aber der Richtige" from act I, Richard Strauss' Arabella, Théâtre du Châtelet, Paris (2002) -- with Karita Mattila (Arabella), Thomas Hampson (Mandryka), Barbara Bonney (Zdenka), Günter Missenhardt (Graf Waldner), Cornelia Kallisch (Adélaide), Hugh Smith (Matteo), Endrik Wottrich (Elemer), Olga Trifonova (Fiakermilli), Sarah Walker (Kartenaufschlägerin) et al. Christoph von Dohnányi conducts the Philharmonia Orchestra.
(Oh, yes, the Latin quote at the top, it's from the opening of the Rousseau essay, and is translated, "In this place I am a barbarian, because men do not understand me.")
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I am a psychologist, living in Northern California. Over the years I have written about torture, national security, civil rights and other topics. Most of my stories, including major investigatory pieces, some co-written with Jason Leopold, have been published at Firedoglake, Truthout, and The Public Record.
A full backlog of my pre-Invictus writing, going back to May 2005, can be found at my Daily Kos page.
E-mail me at sfpsych at gmail dot com.
This documentary, by award-winning producer Sherry Jones, details how the secret U.S. military interrogation program - "Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape" - or SERE - became the basis for many of the harshest methods used in interrogating prisoners in U.S custody.
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