"On the breath of a fragrant breeze": More from Mirella Freni

After singing Nannetta at Covent Garden in 1961 (with Carlo Maria Giulini conducting), Freni made her La Scala debut in the role in January 1962 -- alongside Luigi Alva as Fenton. [photo by Erio Piccagliani © Teatro alla Scala]

FENTON [singing as he goes out]:
Kissed lips don't lose their good fortune.
NANNETTA [continuing FENTON's song as she joins the other women]: Instead they renew themselves as does the moon, as does the moon.

Luigi Alva (t), Fenton; Mirella Freni (s), Nannetta; Concertgebouw Orchestra (Amsterdam), Carlo Maria Giulini, cond. Live performance from the Hague, June 20, 1963

by Ken

If you were here for last week's first installment of a Mirella Freni remembrance, you know our immediate destination. Following the tease of one of the amazing stolen moments between Nannetta and her adored Fenton thrread through the first Garden Scene of Verdi's Falstaff, we have on promise "Nannetta's shimmering aria in her disguise as the Queen of the Fairies in the magical masquerade final scene."

So let's listen just to the aria, which just happens to have been included in that 1959 Eurodisc operatic recital we heard from last week. As part of the tormenting of Falstaff planned by our Merry Wives of Windsor, Sir John has been lured to the scary depths of Windsor Park at midnight for what he expects to be a tryst with Mistress Alice Ford. For this scheme, Mistress Ford has cast her radiant daughter Nannetta as the Queen of the Fairies.

VERDI: Falstaff: Act III, Scene 2,
Nannetta, "Sul fil d'un soffio etesio"

NANNETTA: On the breath of a fragrant breeze
fly, nimble spirits;
through the branches appears
the blue gleam of the rising moon.
Dance! and let your soft steps
fit the soft music,
joining magic
dancing to the song.

Let us wander beneath the moon,
choosing among the flowers;
every blossom carries
in its heart its own fortune.
With lilies and violets
let us write secret names;
from our enchanted hands
let there spring words,
words illuminated
with pure silver and gold,
poems and charms. The spirits
have flowers as their cyphers.

[translation by Lionel Salter]

Munich Radio Orchestra, Ino Savini, cond. Eurodisc-Vanguard Cardinal, recorded 1959


WE'RE NOT GOING TO GET FARTHER TODAY, BUT WE CAN
AT LEAST HEAR THE SCENE AS IT OCCURS IN THE OPERA

Mirella Freni (1935-2020)

O my dear daddy,
I like him, he's handsome, handsome.
I want to go to Porta Rossa
to buy the ring!
And if I loved him in vain,
I would go to the Ponte Vecchio,
but to throw myself in the Arno!
I'm pining and am tormented!
O God! I'd want to die!
Daddy, mercy, mercy!
Daddy, mercy, mercy!

Munich Radio Orchestra, Ino Savino, cond. Eurodisc-Vanguard Cardinal, recorded 1959

by Ken

This one is personal. I was a couple of years into operatic consciousness when Mirella Freni burst onto the international scene, and it was hard not to be won over by such a lovely lyric soprano backed by such a warm, winning personality. The "O mio babbino caro" we've just heard dates even a few years farther back, from an operatic recital she recorded for Eurodisc in Munich in 1959, which Vanguard shrewdly licensed in the '60s and issued as the above-pictured Vanguard Cardinal LP, which I'm here to tell you I listened to a lot back then.


JUMPING AHEAD

On an operatic bad day you can sometimes see forever -- but oftentimes not

"Wicked world. -- There's no more virtue. -- Everything's in decline."

-- A man who knows a thing or two about, you know, things

A man staggers up to an inn . . .

The exterior of the inn, which along with its name bears the motto: "HONNY SOIT QUI MAL Y PENSE." A bench beside the door. It's the hour of twilight.

Our man is seated on the bench, meditating. Then he stirs himself, pounds on the bench with a big fist, and turning toward the interior of the inn calls to the host.

by Ken

Even if we make clear that by "an operatic bad day" I don't mean a bad day for the audience (of which I often feel I've experienced not just my own share but a whole bunch of other people's) but a bad day for the main character(s) onstage, it may seem oxymoronic to be talking about "operatic bad days." Aren't they mostly pretty rotten? Isn't this what opera is usually about? Isn't it a significant part of what we normally think it means for something to be "operatic"?

The kind of bad day I'm thinking of, though, isn't just a day when everything seems to go wrong, even disastrously wrong. I'm thinking of the kind of day when the victim realizes that he/she has played a major role in setting off the unfortunate chain of events, and as a result, despite a certain lack of totally accurate perspective, owing to the inevitable bleakness of spirit, sees truth(s) stretching out as far as the imagination can see.

The part about the victim realizing that he/she has played a major role in setting off the unfortunate chain of events clearly excludes out companion today. In Sir John Falstaff's imagination nothing is his fault, and never mind that it was his own crackpot scheme to seduce one or maybe two of the merry wives of Windsor, not even for libidinous satisfaction but to tap into their not-so-merry husbands' coffers to provide himself with a bit of working capital, blindly falling into separate traps set by both the women and men of Windsor, that resulted in his being dumped unceremoniously into the Thames in that giant basket full of rank laundry.


SIR JOHN'S FEELING OF VICTIMHOOD CERTAINLY
IS EPIC, THOUGH -- RUNNING DEEP AND, ER, WIDE

Verdi's Falstaff holds court in the Garter Inn

"Reverenza!": Mistress Quickly approaches Falstaff in the Garter Inn.

The interior of the Garter Inn.. FALSTAFF as always sprawled in his big chair in its usual place, drinking his Xeres. BARDOLFO and PISTOLA near the back near the door at left.

BARDOLFO and PISTOLA [beating their breasts in acts of repentance]: We're penitent, and contrite.
FALSTAFF: Man returns to his vices,
like the cat to fat.
BARDOLFO and PISTOLA: And we return to your service.
BARDOLFO: Master, out there there's a woman
who asks to be admitted to your presence.
FALSTAFF: Let her enter.
[BARDOLFO goes out and returns with MISTRESS QUICKLY.]
QUICKLY [bowing deeply to FALSTAFF]: Your reverence!
FALSTAFF: Good day, good woman.
QUICKLY: Your reverence!

Giuseppe Nessi (t), Bardolfo; Cristiano Dalamangas (bs), Pistola; Giuseppe Taddei (b), Sir John Falstaff; Amalia Pini (ms), Mistress Quickly; RAI Turin Symphony Orchestra, Mario Rossi, cond. Cetra, broadcast performance, 1949

Renato Ercolani (t), Bardolfo; Nicola Zaccaria (bs), Pistola; Tito Gobbi (b), Sir John Falstaff; Fedora Barbieri (ms), Mistress Quickly; Philharmonia Orchestra, Herbert von Karajan, cond. EMI, recorded 1956

by Ken

As promised in Friday night's preview, when we heard Master Ford's deliciously awesome monologue from Act II, Scene 1 of Verdi's last opera, Falstaff, with a magical libretto by Arrigo Boito (who had also written the utterly different libretto for Verdi's Otello), today we're going to work our way through the scene.

The opera, you may recall, is constructed of three acts with two scenes each, all roughly the same length. The first scene of each act is set in the Garter Inn in Windsor, the roost of the aging Sir John Falstaff, who's dealing with a severe case of impecuniousness, and in the opening scene hatched a nutty scheme, based on his estimate of his supposedly awesome seductive powers, to seduce one or both of two merry wives of Windsor, Mistress Alice Ford and/or her next-door neighbor, Mistress Meg Page. He has sent them comically poetical love letters, identical except for the names, and unbeknownst to him this caper has become known to, well, pretty much everyone in the two, and rival revenge plots have been hatched. (We've focused on Falstaff before, but mostly heading forward toward the sublime final scene in Windsor Forest.)

So here we are back at the Garter, and what we've already heard above is the arrival, in full fawning mode, of the elderly Mistress Quickly, to launch the merry wives' plot.


I HAVE TO SLIP IN A QUICK PERFORMANCE NOTE

Preview: "And yet they'll say that a jealous husband is a madman" -- meet Verdi's Master Ford

Bryn Terfel and Anthony Michaels-Moore as Falstaff and Ford in Act II, Scene 1 of Covent Garden's Falstaff, 2003

Excerpt 1 (three performances)
Is it a dream? or reality?
Two enormous horns
are growing from my head.
Is it a dream? Master Ford!
Master Ford! Are you sleeping?


Excerpt 2 (three performances)
The time is fixed,
the trick fullly planned;
you're cheated and swindled!
And yet they'll say that
a jealous husband is a madman!


Excerpt 3 (three performances)
I'll explode.
I'll avenge the insult!
Let it be praised forever
from the bottom of my heart: jealousy!


by Ken

Some of you will recognize the source of these wonderful excerpts, and I hope those of you who don't will enjoy them just as much. In a moment we'lre going to hear the complete excerpt from which this excerpt is excerpted, and then Sunday we're going to hear (I think) the whole scene from which that excerpt is excerpted.


WHAT WE'RE HEARING . . .