Thus spake Tommasini
“I will have more to say on this question later.” So, three weeks ago, Anthony Tommasini left open the subject of how “[n]one of the versions of [Les Contes d'Hoffmann] that have appeared over the years, some of them corrupted, can be said to be authentic.” The Times scribe has at last broken his silence, though La Cieca will leave it up to the reader to decide whether he actually has “more to say.” [NYT]
I am afraid you are very much mistaken about the setting of Don Carlos. The text was written in French and Verdi set these French words, with the exception of a line here and there he objected to (e.g., a slur calling Italians “race faible et poltronne.”)
It is true that Verdi had some miserable experiences working at the Paris Opera, but that had little to do with the language and everything to do with the very different working conditions there: I believe he once (hyperbolically) complained that it took a meeting of the board of directors to decide whether the leading lady should gesture with her left hand or her right.
After Don Carlos failed at the Opera (despite some, not all, favorable reviews) Verdi allowed the work to be adapted for the Italian and international stage in an Italian language version. But this proves nothing one way or the other about Verdi’s preferences: Italian was the standard operatic language internationally (except for German-speaking countries). Therefore Faust, Carmen, Les Huguenots and even Lohengrin were best known worldwide in Italian translation until around the turn of the 20th century.
The du Locle-Méry libretto for Don Carlos is neither great poetry nor (in many places) great drama, but it has the distinct advantage of being written in a straightforward and literate style, without the many inversions and other distortions of syntax that litter the Italian translation. Budden chooses as a particularly telling example a line in the middle section of Elisabeth’s great aria. In French she sings:
“Fontainebleau! Mon coeur est plein de votre image!” [Fontainebleau! My heart is filled with your image.]
In Italian, this lovely line is gnarled into
“Fontainebleau! ver voi schiude il pensiero i vanni!” [Fontainebleau! Toward thee opens my thought the pinions.]
And no, “vanni” does not quite mean “wings” (not that Elisabeth even mentioned wings in the original). It’s a deliberate archaic usage, the kind of diction hack Italian librettists fell back on when they wanted to sound grand and old-timey.
Anyone who can sing a role in Don Carlo in Italian can sing the same role in Don Carlos in French: it’s simply a matter of learning the words. I am sure there was a time when a lot of baritones dragged their feet about relearning “Dio possente” from Faust, too, but they did it.
” it’s simply a matter of learning the words. ”
Given the quality of French pronunciation on major operatic stages, I would hazard to guess this is not as ’simple’ as you suggest.
Yes! I work at the Amoeba store in Hollywood (although I will soon be taking a year off to take care of my ailing mother and complete my book on “Hoffmann”).
Thank you for not taking offense at my correction.
It should also be stated that the materials which the Met is using that coincide with Kaye’s edition are still being used in Oeser’s versions. For example, when he re-instated the “Trio des yeux”, Oeser had only Offenbach’s earlier, un-orchestrated version written for a baritone Hoffmann, to go on. Oeser orchestrated it himself (in a particularly un-idiomatic manner – that insistent snare drum!) and made the necessary changes in Hoffmann’s part. But a more authentic, orchestrated version has surfaced since then which dates, I believe, from the early rehearsal period at the Opera-Comique before the number was cut (This is the version used in Kaye). This is just one of many differences between Oeser and Kaye.
I doubt if too many people in the audience would notice much of this, or even care, but, in my opinion, it matters.
Of course, the issue is not one of whether Levine is lazy in not attempting the newer edition, rather it’s more a question of who is better situated to judge what is theatrically and musically more effective, the man who has been running one of the world’s great opera houses for over thirty years, or Captain Ahab? It’s rather transparent what the answer is, being the person with the greater objectivity in judging the materials.
I think Andy Porter (who used to bring bewildered looking pick ups to the Met press room dressed in full leather) found ms in the Paris Opera back men’s room and connected it with the ur-Don Carlos (why he was clutching at the old bricks therein has never been explained)
WTF?
The 70s were more fun, weren’t they?
What toadying nonsense. One could as well say that since KHOVANSHCHINA and TURANDOT and MOSES UND ARON and LULU were left unfinished, absolutely anything one did to make them more slick and marketable would be fine
The last two are somewhat different cases from the first two. MOSES UND ARON may technically be incomplete, as Schoenberg wrote the text for a third act that consisted of M & A arguing, then Aron dropping dead. He completed the first two acts and they work perfectly.
LULU was orchestrated up until about 1/4 of the way through the third act and the rest was complete in short score. Since the last scenes, in London, were basically reprises of already heard material, it was fairly easy for Cerha to re-construct the orchestration.
Both are incredible operas and I’m glad they get performed on the fringes of the standard rep; the City Opera Achim Freyer production of MOSES UND ARON in the early 90’s was one of the best nights I’ve ever had in an opera house.
I think it is also true that Verdi always worked with the original French text when revising Don Carlos for the Italian translation in Italian theatres. But I bow to La Cieca’s obviously in-depth knowledge of this thorny conundrum.