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About Verismo

Read "Un Squarcio di Vita"
Read "Verismo in its Historical Context"

An Amateur's View of Verismo
by Marshall Berland

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

Just when you think you know what something is, you are confronted with the exception to the rule—for instance, what is meant by 'Classical' music? In a record store, it's where serious music is found; to musicians and dedicated amateurs, it refers to the period between Baroque and Romantic, with much more fine tuning possible.

(By the way, the words amateur and dilettante have both come to have pejorative connotations; in actual fact, they both mean a lover or devotee of fine arts, as opposed to professional.)

So, if someone calls you an amateur, thank them.

Wherefore Verismo?
Although Verismo is acknowledged to start with Mascagni's Cavalleria rusticana in 1890, it is difficult to pinpoint the beginning of an intellectual movement with total accuracy or within strict national borders. This is particularly true of Verismo, since what we now think of as Italy was only unified in 1860 encompassing the Kingdoms of Sardinia and Naples plus an assortment of former feudal fiefdoms—each with its own dialects and local character, with Rome wrested from the Papacy still later. The unification under King Vittorio Emanuele of Sardinia was called The Risorgimento – the Resurgence of Italy as a single political entity. It is said that the leader, Massimo D'Azeglio remarked at the time: "We have made Italy—now we must make Italians!"

Yet, although the genesis of opera sprang from such regional composers as Venetians Monteverdi and Vivaldi and Neapolitans like Scarlatti, Paisiello and Pergolesi, by the nineteenth century there was a recognizable, uniquely Italian quality to an enormous range of extraordinary operas recognized and produced all over the world.

The first half of the nineteenth century is recognized as the Golden Age of Opera—Donizetti, Bellini, Rossini and, supremely, Verdi—performed in a proliferation of opera houses all over the peninsula to a public grown from its aristocratic base to the major popular entertainment for all. These Italian works still form the backbone of opera performed everywhere, familiar to all opera-goers.

By the latter days of the nineteenth century, Verdi's seemingly endless flood of magnificent operas was slowing. Incredibly, there were fifteen operas premièred between 1840 and 1850, followed by another seven in the 1860's, but after Don Carlo premièred in 1867, he seemed content to live life as the grand seigneur on his ever-increasing lands in Sant'Agata, near Cremona. In the 1870's there was only Aïda (1871) perhaps the most successful work ever written "to order."

According to Francis Robinson, at this time Verdi was serious about his retirement, twice refused the blandishments of Egypt's Khedive Ismail Pasha to create a work dealing with the past glories of Egypt to commemorate the opening of the Suez Canal and the inauguration of Cairo's new Opera House. However, The Khedive was persistent and after Verdi read the synopsis by French-born Egyptologist, Mariette Bey, he succumbed: the terms were to be $30,000. (in 1870's dollars) if he came for the première; and $20,000. if he did not. The composer was to retain all rights outside Egypt. As it turned out, Aïda was late for the opening and the Cairo Opera House was inaugurated with a performance of Rigoletto. To use a hackneyed cliché, the rest of course is history.

Back to Verismo
During these latter days of the nineteenth century, there were new voices emerging, anxious to confront the constraints of Grand Opera. They strove to portray ordinary people naturalistically – a mirror held to reality, stark, uncompromising, without judgment or commentary. Alan Mallach, in his excellent 2007 book, The Autumn of Italian Opera: From Verismo to Modernism, 1890—1915, speaks of “compact violent dramas of plebian life”—quoting musicologist Rubens Tedeschi's reference to 'the aesthetic of the knife.'"

As Italy became more European, there was a richer cross-pollination with contemporary theatrical and literary voices from abroad, particularly France and Germany but also Russia and America. The younger Italian composers reflected this heightened interchange of ideas into their work at a time when that was ready for a change.

The recent past was dominated by Giuseppe Verdi and Richard Wagner, both born in 1813. Wagner's music was tremendously influential by this time, heard in Italy (and often in Italian!) as indeed it was all over the world. In addition, German-born French composer, Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791-1864) was one of the most successful composers of the mid-1800's. The première of Robert le Diable is still considered to be one of the most sensational successes in operatic history. Currently out of favor, it is difficult to evaluate how much influence he had on contemporaries like Wagner and Verdi, but his operas typified the huge formalized spectacles that the Verists rebelled against. For half a century, his works like Les Huguenots and Le Prophète were tremendously popular, performed more often than almost any other composer of the time.

Within the ranks of these new composers, two perceptible groups emerged, perhaps more distinct to musicologists than to the listening public: La giovane scuola and La generazione dell'ottanta.

La giovane scuola ("The Young School") were those composers born around 1860 whose work reflected evolutionary changes from within the traditional structure – Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924), Pietro Mascagni (1863- 1945), Umberto Giordano (1867-1948), Alfredo Catalani (1854-1893), Baron Alberto Franchetti (1860-1942), Ruggero Leoncavallo (1857-1919) and Francesco Cilèa (1866-1950).

In addition, there were a number of younger Italian composers whose later work could be considered consistent with the above: Franco Alfano (1876-1954), Italo Montemezzi (1875-1952), Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari (1876-1948) and Riccardo Zandonai (1883-1944).

Another coincidence: Catalani and Puccini were both from Lucca, in Tuscany, born into musical families. The Puccinis were well-placed within the musical culture of the town; four generations served as church organists and composers at the Church of San Martino and the Lucca Cathedral. Catalani's antecedents were less illustrious: his grandfather was a piano teacher and tuner; his father was a music teacher and sometime composer. Both received their early classical training there at the Istituto Musicale Pacini before going on to further studies.

Mascagni on the other hand, was born into poverty in a Livorno tenement. He was one of five children left in the care of Dominico, his baker father, when his mother died of tuberculosis. Pietro was only nine at the time. Then Fortune smiled - his precocious talent was recognized by Alfredo Soffredini, a young graduate of the Milan Conservatory who opened the city's first music school, the Istituto Luigi Cherubini where he received his early education. Cavallaria was his first opera at twenty-eight – the winner of a competition sponsored by music publisher Sonzogno. Its electrifying instant success was incalculable, making Mascagni a world figure virtually overnight.

At the other end of the scale was Baron Alberto Franchetti. The scion of an aristocratic Jewish family whose enormous wealth stemmed from medieval southern France, Franchetti's grandfather Abramo was made a Baron by Vittorio Emanuele, then King of Sardinia, in recognition of his instrumental role in establishing the Italian railway system. His father Raimondo married the daughter of Baron Alselm von Rothschild, merging two of Europe's most enormous Jewish fortunes. (Alan Mallach mentions a contemporary claim that Raimondo Franchetti could walk from Tuscany to Venice without leaving his landholdings.)

Franco Alfano was lesser known, although his Cyrano de Bergerac was recently performed at the Metropolitan Opera. He is chiefly remembered for completing Turandot from Puccini's notes after his death. His gripping Risurrezione (Resurrection) is one of six operas taken from Tolstoy's novels, including Prokofiev's massive War and Peace in 1946.

According to musicologist George R. Marek, when maestro Toscanini conducted the première at La Scala in Milan on April 25, 1926, "...he put down his baton before the triumphant final duet, turned to the audience and said, 'It is at this point that Puccini laid down his pen.' He stopped conducting and left the performance unfinished. It was probably the only time Toscanini spoke publicly in a theatre and the only time Turandot was performed without the Alfano ending."

Interestingly, this was yet another Puccini second version of an existing scenario: the same Carlo Gozzi play was source for Ferruccio Busoni's two act Turandot which premièred in Zurich May 11, 1917. His other double presentations were Leoncavallo's La Bohème and Manon Lescaut (already seen as Massenet's highly acclaimed Manon). Puccini obviously felt confident that his unique “take” on a particular property could make the difference.

Although considerably younger, Italian- born American composer Gian-Carlo Menotti (1911-2007) might be included in the Verismo category. His works, mostly written in English, were popular but have faded somewhat in the recent past. Successful works include The Medium, The Consul, The Saint of Bleecker Street and his most frequently performed one act opera, the Christmas fable Amahl and the Night Visitors (first performed on NBC-TV). He wrote the libretto for his partner Samuel Barber's Vanessa (1958), and was founder of the Spoleto /Charleston (South Carolina) Festival of Two Worlds in 1958.

La Generazione dell'ottanta (literally "the generation of the '80s") were those composers who went further afield from the mainstream. Born later than the giovane scuola they were highly intellectual and in some cases, more revolutionary. Principally, this group consisted of Ildebrando Pizzetti (1880-1968), Gian-Francesco Malipiero (1882-1973) and Alfredo Casella (1883-1947). All are regarded as major composers and are part of the legacy of twentieth century Italian music, but perhaps because of the more rarified nature of their work, their acclaim is found mainly among the musical intelligentsia at this time.

One outside exception is Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936) a contemporary of these composers. His prolific catalogue of orchestral program music is part of everyone's basic musical education. The Pines and The Fountains of Rome and Feste Romane are played constantly, everywhere in the world. Strangely, the delights of his nine beautiful and very accessible operas such as La Fiamma and Sleeping Beauty (so much more melodic in Italian as La Bella Addormentata nel Bosco!) are recognized only by the dedicated searcher for rare recordings, usually live performances from Hungary and Eastern Europe.

Stepping back from this mere listing of names, these operas represent a tremendous volume of truly exciting varied works with incredible range. But although they were contemporaries, not all of their works can be grouped together or thought of as Verismo -- nor should they be. Inspiration came from many sources. For instance, it is difficult for the unprofessional opera aficionado to recognize the thread of commonality between Richard Strauss' stark Elektra, premièred in Dresden January 25, 1909 and the honeyed neo-classicism of Der Rosenkavalier which premièred in Dresden exactly two years later on January 26, 1911!

It is a sad fact of modern life that the huge volume of these composers' work shall remain unheard by the vast majority of opera goers – if anything, they are usually thought of as "one-opera composers." They may fare a bit better in Europe on an individual basis but with economics often deciding repertoire, the chances aren't good.

Inspiration
As mentioned earlier, this was a time of immense intellectual growth and re-examination of the status quo. While Italian librettists Boïto, Illica and D'Annunzio's influence was pivotal to a number of these composers, fin de siècle Paris was the magnetic center of provocative intellectual thought. Émile Zola and Gustave Flaubert were known to everyone. (In retrospect, it's hard to believe that Madame Bovary never became an opera – the novel is almost a libretto! ) Victorien Sardou was one of the most prolific playwrights and librettists of his day, with twenty-five operas based on his work! In addition to Tosca, the list includes Giordano's Madame Sans Gêne and Fedora.

There was a continuing fascination with the foreign, the exotic—continuing a musical tradition from well before Mozart's Abduction from the Seraglio and Rossini's Il Turco in Italia. But beyond the usual Oriental fantasies, they would often look north for inspiration—undoubtedly, the ubiquitous influence of Wagner was the 900 pound gorilla in the room. In addition to the aforementioned Risurrizione, there was Giordano's gelid Siberia set in Russia, Nordic fantasies, portraits of Alsacian domesticity like Mascagni's L'Amico Fritz plus Puccini's La Fanciulla del West with Minnie in her boisterous Polka Saloon set in the California Gold Rush. Catalani was inspired by Tyrolean Mountain folk for La Wally, a score which so entranced Toscanini that he named his daughter Wally!

Once more, it is more difficult to generalize about the inspiration for works. When the operas were set in Italy with familiar territory, like Cavalleria rusticana and I Pagliacci, there is a sparseness, a sureness that transcends the action. Few of these composers felt fettered by the need for consistency in their oeuvre. As an eighty-five year old Verdi told the young Gatti-Casazza when he became General Director of La Scala: "Forget about the newspapers. Keep an eye on the box office receipts! These are the true documents of success or failure!" The overnight success of Cavalleria spawned legions of gritty sagas of hoi polloi with enough knives to equip a cooking school.

The blossoming of the Verismo composers is contemporaneous with the beginnings of cinema, and the association was a meaningful one... particularly to Mascagni and Puccini, who had a keen eye for what the public wanted. The early cinema's melodramatic plots jibe with the same overblown emotions and violent action. Long before the articulation of the philosophical underpinnings of existentialism, the Verismo composers were holding the lamp up to a heightened sense of reality –unapologetic, without pretense or raison d'être.

It's interesting to reflect that movies that came of Italy after World War II anachronistically echo the Zeitgeist of these earlier operas… The Gold of Naples, The Bicycle Thief, Two Women-- the naked reality and truth shines through all of them without the need for an object lesson.

Religion, Superstition and Verismo
It is difficult to generalize about the inspiration for Verismo operas. Few of these composers felt fettered by the need for consistency in their oeuvre and these composers in particular were very cosmopolitan in their choice of subject matter. But when the operas were set in Italy with familiar territory like Cavalleria rusticana and I Pagliacci, there is a spareness, a sureness that transcends the action. Nevertheless, the unseen but acknowledged presence of the Catholic Church --in Verismo opera and for the Italian people at the time-- is a given. Mascagni's 1890 Cavalleria opens with the action set in the square before the church on Easter Sunday in Sicily. The unspoken integral role of faith implicit in the swift progression of the plot is vital; without it, the drama would lose its resonance, the transgressions would be meaningless.

The Church also provides the mise en scène that propels the action of Tosca, a story about the ultimate diva. The settings in Rome are all real: from the first act set in Sant' Andrea della Valle with its marvelous processional climax to the last act with Floria Tosca's fatal leap from the Castel Sant'Angelo. At the very center of the action is Tosca's abiding belief in God and her Catholic faith, at odds with the implied agnosticism of artist Mario Cavaradossi, her lover, but physically grounded inside a church; both trapped in the web of Baron Scarpia, one of opera's most intriguing villains. In Tosca's ultimate knock ‘em dead aria, "Vissi d'arte..." she speaks of her faith, her good deeds, and the question that has troubled people of faith for all time: Why does God allow horrible things to happen to decent people who lead exemplary lives…Why is all this happening to her? Even after stabbing Scarpia with his own knife, she still crosses herself and puts candles at his head and feet before scurrying away. And her last words before leaping to her death are not about her lover, Mario, but: "Scarpia, Avanti a Dio! (We appear) before God!"

Tosca was not much of a gamble for Puccini. Sarah Bernhardt had performed Floria Tosca on stage in the original Sardou play something like a thousand times. It had a total recognition factor with audiences when it premièred in 1900 in Rome as an instant and resounding success. It simply couldn't miss. Bernhardt had another reason to remember the diva; while touring in Tosca, someone moved the mattress that was to cushion her leap from the parapet. She broke her leg so badly that it eventually needed to be amputated. Quand même, the indomitable Divine One acted without a leg for the rest of her long and illustrious career. Without singing, Bernhardt's entire persona was the embodiment of what made Verismo work for so many. The closest thing to a singing Bernhardt was Maria Callas, but Magda Olivero, the aging darling of the Verismo composers , came to the Metropolitan Opera late in her sixties and received incredulous rave reviews from all the critics.

The Jewels of the Madonna
Composer Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari was interestingly complex—German-Venetian by birth, he is most known for his sparkling 18th century Goldoni comedies like Il Quattro Rusteghi and Il Segreto di Suzanna. Although he wrote in Italian, his principal fame was Germany, where most of his work premièred. His work covers a wide variety of sources. I gioielli della Madonna (The Jewels of the Madonna) was his one foray into the hurly-burly world of Verismo. It was amazingly successful at the time, although it is now remembered chiefly for instrumental sequences from the score.

Underappreciated today, his accomplished and widely varied work shows tremendous vitality and fluidity of line. The presence of The Church in Italian life once more takes a major role in Wolf-Ferrari's "Jewels." fueling the plot that encompasses virtually the entire gamut of the Seven Deadly Sins in lurid detail. It deftly serves up the melodramatic themes of sacrilege, lust, rape, virtual incest, betrayal and murder, capped by the supreme act of blasphemy—Gennaro draping his ravished inamorata with the purloined eponymous jewels of the Madonna in a sure-handed coup de théâtre.

The première at Berlin's Kurfursten-Oper on December 23, 1911 was a resounding critical and public success, quickly repeated the next month with its American première by the Chicago Opera, which toured it to nineteen cities between 1911 and 1928.

The potency of the primitive cult aspect underlying Cavalleria, Tosca and Jewels of the Madonna permeates the entire atmosphere of these operas, propelling them to their inevitable conclusion. One can hardly dismiss the coincidences apparent between the Wolf-Ferrari work and Menotti's 1954 Saint of Bleecker Street, including the implication of incest, blasphemy and the heavy atmosphere of superstition in a transplanted Neapolitan ghetto in New York – complete with stigmata, heavenly apparitions and the de rigueur stabbing. (Didn't anyone own a gun in those days?) Menotti valiantly produced Saint in a successful three-month theatrical run to packed houses. (I saw it in a very effective revival by the New York City Opera with Catherine Malfitano and it was still quite powerful.)

Suor Angelica, part two of Il Trittico, is Puccini's foray into the all-girl cloistered world of the convent (and his only major role for a mezzo.) It is really more sentimental than Verismo, with more than a whiff of Faust's doomed Marguerite-- complete with a ghostly appearance by the Blessed Virgin as Angelica sweetly expires to some of Puccini's most limpid melodies.

On the other hand, Il Tabarro, the opening act of Il Trittico, has gore to spare—a nasty little number from Didier Gold's La Houppelande. Illicit love and infidelity barging down the Seine under the bridges of Paris, ending with the obligatory stabbing— wronged husband Michele dumping the cloak-wrapped corpse of the lover Luigi at the feet of his faithless wife Giorgetta, Very gamey stuff, indeed— and Puccini's most realistic Verismo work. Together with Gianni Schicchi, the three one act operas center on the macabre common theme of Death in its varied guises.

It is worth noting, though, that Verismo plots were not all home-grown produce. When the action leaves Italy, the presence of the Church stays behind, with the possible exception of Madama Butterfly. Puccini's librettists Illica and Giacosa use Cio-Cio-San's gratuitous first act off-stage "conversion" to a vaguely unspecified Christianity as a leap of faith—isolating herself completely from everyone and everything in her past. But she returns to her Samurai roots with her suicide.

In Italy at the turn of the century, opera was popular entertainment as well as social entertainment for the upper crust. These Verismo works brought real life spiced with adventure into the elegant halls of Grand Art, in reaction to the stifled atmosphere of the Victorian mid-nineteenth century. It was part and parcel of their rejection of the artifice and didacticism that permeated the overheated salons of the prevailing Intelligentsia.

The bosom-heaving self-sacrifice of Traviata implied that there was an impending reward in heaven, based upon the good Christian values espoused (at least in public) at the time. Operatically, this was old news. The time-honored classic favorite opera plot of the spiritual redemption of the wanton woman by selfless love (with the faint whiff of incense). This is pallidly echoed in the resolution of Puccini's lyric 1917 bonbon, La Rondine, set in laissez-faire Paris with nary a mention of religion or souls in peril. Instead of expiring tragically on a Récamier in the last scene, this heroine, (thoroughly modern) Magda, confronted with a fulsome role as Ruggero's virtuous wife, sensibly offers to remain his mistress--but in the end, she chooses to return to her previous lover, Rambaldo... Waterloo Bridge, anyone?

Once more, although it was written by Verismo composer Puccini, La Rondine bears more resemblance to Die Fledermaus than Pagliacci. (If you extend the time table back to include Carmen, Magda could easily join the realistic ranks of the Verismo Ladies Club of heroines who did well by going wrong. She was a fascinating creature, way ahead of her time. A free spirit, she was nevertheless a serial monogamist –one lover at a time was her rule (and ultimately the death of her)...

But that, as they say is Uno altro cosa.