Why I'm into opera: When I was in my "Whitney Houston phase," I bought a CD called Movies Go to the Opera. I don't know what prompted me to buy it. In fact, I pretty much let it collect dust. Then about two years ago, I popped this compilation album into the CD player. A couple of tracks got my attention. They were sung by Maria Callas, a person I've never even heard about, and then I had to hear more. I got some of those $4 Maria Callas albums that you find in the discount bin in any music store. That did not satisfy me. Pretty soon, I had to get more Maria Callas albums. Then I had to get the whole operas. I learned about the ultimate music -- the extreme music, if you will -- OPERA. Opera is about sex, greed, violence, love, hate, revenge, and damn near any emotion you want to talk about. OPERA RULES, baby!!
But what does this have to do with Lonesome Dove? Actually, the answer is more than you might think. This first incidence I discovered was while I was listening to my Opera for Dummies CD one night. Something suddenly hit me. Track 5, "Una furtiva lagrima," a tenor aria from Donizetti's L'Elisir d'Amore, sounded a lot like that background music in THE ALLIANCE. With some prompting from my chat friends, I popped THE ALLIANCE in the VCR and listened to Track 5. Lo and behold -- they were the same!! Since major revelations like these usually prompt me to author a web page, this page is the result. (Lucky you!!)
What is L'Elisir d'Amore? What does it have to do with THE ALLIANCE? Don't those singing cows sound great???
The second opera occurrence was while I was reading (yes, reading) Larry McMurtry's Dead Man's Walk. Guess what? -- Opera scared off the natives! McMurtry referred directly to Verdi's Nabucco. I will tell you a little bit more about Nabucco.
Does opera and the American Old West seem incongruent? Actually, it isn't. They are bonded together....
I found that I really liked the 19th century operas. I will list just a few of them for you.
I was also curious about the Old West opera houses. Much to my surprise, some of them did actually perform opera!!
Finally, you also get to see some of my favorite opera links.
I'm not an expert on opera or about opera houses, so if you see an inaccuracy or would like to make a comment, please e-mail me.
Simon, Henry W. 100 Great Operas and Their Stories: Act-by-act Synopses. New York: Doubleday, 1960. (Originally titled Festival of Operas, 1957.)
Setting: 19th century Italy, in an Italian village
First performance: Milan, 1832
Character | Vocal Part | Description |
---|---|---|
Adina | soprano | a wealthy young woman |
Nemorino | tenor | hapless peasant with a speech impediment |
Sgt. Belcore | baritone | blustering military man |
Dr. Dulcamara | bass | think "Wild-West snake-oil salesman" |
Gianetta | soprano | peasant girl and confidant of Adina |
Sgt. Belcore, a local military man, asks Adina for her hand in marriage in front of the entire village, but Adina flirtatiously discourages him. When the villagers have left, Nemorino asks to marry her as well, but in the proceeding duet, she denies him. Adina, it seems, is bored with Nemorino's pathetic attempts at love-making. (This is funny already!!)
Significant arias in Scene I: "Quanto e bella" (How beautiful she is) sung by Nemorino.
Nemorino sees how unhappy Adina is, so he sings the most famous aria in the whole opera, Una furtiva lagrima (Down her soft cheek, a pearly tear; sequenced by Haydee Villar). Nemorino insists that he would gladly give his life to comfort her. Adina approaches him later, but Nemorino nevertheless maintains his indifference. Even when she says that she bought back his enlistment papers from Belcore, the peasant is still unmoved. Finally, Adina admits her love. They embrace and sing an impassioned duet. Belcore takes the news philosophically (there are no stabbings in this opera, kids), and the sergeant claims there are plenty of fish in the sea. Dr. Dulcamara proclaims he is a pharmaceutical genius -- his elixir brought the lovers together -- and everyone buys more bottles of his "Elixir of Love."
The song fits beautifully with the whole scene. It is wonderfully elegant, and it adds a touch of class to the entire episode.
Ewen, David. The New Encyclopedia of Opera. New York: Hill and Wang, 1971.Guinn, John and Les Stone, eds. The St. James Opera Encyclopedia: A Guide to People and Works. Detroit: Visible Ink Pres, 1997.
Lazarus, John. The Opera Handbook. Boston: G. K. Hall, 1987.
Setting: 586 BC in Jerusalem and Babylon
First performance: Milan at La Scala, 1842
Character | Vocal Part | Description |
---|---|---|
Abigaille | soprano | Nabucco's supposed daughter (really a slave girl) |
Fenena | mezzo-soprano to soprano | Nabucco's other daughter |
Ismaele | tenor | tenor |
Nabucco | baritone | King of Babylon |
Zaccaria | bass | High Priest of Jerusalem |
McMurtry, Larry. Dead Man's Walk. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1995.Part 4, Chapter 6:
The line of Comanches was still some two hundred yards away. Lucinda Carey, watching from behind her three veils, rode toward them slowly, singing her aria. When she had closed the distance to within one hundred yards, she stretched her arms wide; Elphinstone [the snake] liked to twine himself along them. She felt in good voice. The aria she was singing came from Signor Verdi's new opera Nabucco -- he had taught her the aria himself, two years ago in Milan, not long before she and her husband, Lord Carey, sailed together for Mexico....As she came nearer, close enough to see the Comanche war chief's great hump and the ochre lines of paint on his face and chest, Lucinda, Lady Carey, opened her throat and sang her aria with the full power of her lungs -- she let her voice rise high, and then higher still. She pretended for a moment that she was at La Scala, where she had had the honor of meeting Signor Verdi. She filled her lungs, breathing as Signor Verdi had taught her in the few lessons she had begged of him -- her high, ripe notes rang clearly in the dry Texas air.
Individual scenes might related to the book, however. Which aria could it be? Of course, the song has to be a woman's part, because I highly doubt that Lady Carey would be singing tenor, baritone, or bass. ;) So that leaves either the soprano (Abigaille) or the mezzo-soprano (Fenena) role.
This leaves us many choices, but what would Lady Carey be singing at that particular moment? A love song to the Indians? -- I highly doubt it. Buffalo Hump, Kicking Wolf, and the other Indians believe she is singing a death song. So a death song it shall be!! In Act IV, Abigaille has a death scene. I imagine that since it is at the end of the opera, that the other characters would be commenting on it, so I would rule this one out, in my opinion. I don't think Lady Carey is singing this song.
According to the Opera Database, Fenena has a death song of her own. This might be the one Lady Carey chose to sing. From my very little understanding of Italian, she is singing to God and about his power in heaven. Since I don't have the fortune of having the opera at the moment, I do not know how Fenena was supposed to sing this. If Lady Carey sang it confidently and without remorse, than this aria would make as much sense as any. She sings of the power of God and of the heavens. It would be an appropriate song to sing at that particular moment -- she is trying to show the Indians her confidence and strength at that moment. She intends it to frighten off the Indians.
What about Abigaille's scene in Act II? In Act II, Abigaille orders the death of the Jews. Not having the opera, I'm not sure if this is really in an aria form, or whether it is recitative, or both. It takes up the majority of the scene, I believe, and I don't think Lady Carey was singing for very long from how I interpreted the book. However, for me, this one might make more sense than Fenena's song. Since Abigaille is ordering the death of the Jews, and Lady Carey comes in the form of pestilence and destruction, I think this is the far more appropriate aria. Lady Carey definitely would be singing something powerful -- and the Indians would take notice, as they did. They call her the "Death Woman" -- as Abigaille really was in Nabucco.
According to the "rules" of opera (see A Beginner's Guide to Enjoying Opera), any hero would be a tenor. Newt Call would be singing the tragic tenor, while Hannah would definitely be the tragic soprano suffering a hideous death. (Before Hannah dies in the fire, though, she ought to be allowed one final aria!) Get out your hankies, kids.
In LD: The OPERA, Newt would sing Gluck's "J'ai perdu mon Eurydice (I have lost my Eurydice)." I don't really know how he'd manage it, though, since I think the part was really meant for a castrati (YES, MEN, THE PAIN!!! ASSUME THE SPACEBALL POSITION!). But, thank goodness, castration has been outlawed, so I guess Newt would have to sing it in his tenor voice.
Mosby. Dearest Mosby. We have heard what he sounds like singing "Dixie," and he would have to be, BY THE RULES, a baritone. He's got the black hat, yet I picture him to be like a Wagner's FLYING DUTCHMAN type. You know. The tragic hero. Mourning. Haunted. THE FLYING MOSBY.
Now, Austin could be either a tenor or a baritone, for he is too young to be a bass. He could be a second tenor, which, sadly, is pretty much how his role is in the show. :(
Unbob, we know from the show has a deep voice (I think Frank C. Turner is either a baritone or a bass), but BY THE RULES, Unbob would be a tenor. He'd have to have a sweet voice -- baritones and bases don't usually get the sweet arias, so Unbob would be a tenor.
Josiah, the father, would have to be delegated to the bass, because he is an old guy. I have no doubt of this.
In TS, Ida would be a mezzo or a contralto (isn't Diahann Carroll a mezzo?), for she is the motherly type.
Now the TOY women are a little more fun to figure out. :)
Amanda Carpenter. You can imagine her as a Carmen type. She would definitely be a mezzo or a contralto. She'd have to have an earthy sexiness to her voice.
Mattie Shaw would be a soprano. You see, sopranos took the "breech" parts, like the page boy Cherubino in Mozart's MARRIAGE OF FIGARO. Since females assuming a male role were the only women allowed to appear on stage in pants, Mattie would have to assume the "breech" part. She would be a soprano from this line of thinking. Also, she is the hapless female, so she would be a soprano by these rights, too.
Now, Enona. Yes, she appears in pants, but her nature suggests something of a fortune-teller like woman. She might assume a contralto part, like the fortune teller Ulrica in Verdi's UN BALLO IN MASCHERA.
Remember Frances from WHEN SHE WAS GOOD? I think she would be a soprano. Like Donizetti's LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, Frances takes a sharp instrument to her kin. WATCH OUT FOR SOPRANOS THAT HAVE GONE MAD! Death, baby, death!
Dizikes, John. Opera in America: A Cultural History. New York: Yale University, 1993.
Dizikes expresses the bond between opera and the American Old West better than I ever could:
Opera and the historical West were in harmony, but it was different from what [Walt] Whitman meant by harmony. The explosive energy, the massed choral power, and the soaring individual voices of opera corresponded to the infinitely mixed voices of the American people, to their feeling of immense movement and release after the Mexican War, freed from previous constraints: free as the Mississippi rushing to the Gulf, free as the plains stretching endlessly over the horizon. Italian opera and the West mirrored each other in passion and terror. The duels, murders, poisonings, and assassinations on the operatic stage spoke directly to the western audience's experience of its own history -- its Indian massacres, vigilante floggings and lynchings. True: the imaginary madness of opera paled beside the actual madness of "bleeding Kansas," the fury of operatic villains was mild beside the rage of secessionist fire-eaters, the cruelty of slave drivers, and the ravings of Indian killers. But in the audience and on the stage one sensed people out of their own control, driven fatally toward some obscure destiny. Thus the blood of Ernani mingled with that of Sitting Bull and John Brown, the madness of Lucia invoked the spirits of those innumerable women maddened by the isolation of the plains and mountains. The heartbeat of western history was violence, a timpani beat of inexorable fatality. Verdi amid the redwoods. Donizetti in the Sierras. Music, Italian music, in Dakota.Aside (this is something I learned from Dizikes, too): Walt Whitman wrote opera reviews for the Brooklyn Daily Eagle. :) His volume of poetry, Leaves of Grass, contains many references to opera. One poem was entitled "Italian Music in Dakota." Hence, Dizikes' reference. :)
Carmen can be played by a mezzo-soprano to a soprano. Don Jose, of course, is a tenor part.
My most favorite songs in Carmen are The Habanera (L'amour est un oiseau rebelle, sequenced by Paulo Norberg), the Chanson boheme (Les tringles des sistres tintaient), the Toreador Song (Votre toast je peux vous le rendre, sequenced by Joshua Kaufman), and the "Clickety-Clack" Quintet (Eh bien! vite, quelles nouvelles?) (The "Clickety-Clack" is in reference to Carmen Jones, starring Dorothy Dandridge and a young Diahann Caroll, who played Ida Grayson in LD:TS)
Italian composer Guiseppe Verdi dominated the opera scene during the latter half of the 19th century. Verdi's first opera Oberto was written in 1838, and his last operas Otello and Falstaff, were composed in 1887 and 1898, respectively. Verdi first gained notoriety with after the death of his first wife and infant children.
Verdi's triad Rigoletto (1851), Il trovatore (1853), and La Traviata (1853) note Verdi's level of artistic maturity and sophistication. According to Dizikes, these operas usually were met with "vehement enthusiasm" by the general public or "fierce disparagement" by discrimating opera critics. The general public understood Verdi's own saying, "It is better to invent reality than to copy it."
Rigoletto is based on a play by Victor Hugo. Rigoletto (baritone), a hunchback, is the jester in the Duke of Mantua's court. The Duke (the tenor) is your typical Don Juan. Naturally, as is the course of any tragic opera, Rigoletto's daughter Gilda (soprano) falls in love with the duke. Rather than have his beloved daughter spurned by the love of this worthless man, Rigoletto plots to kill the duke. In an ironic twist, Gilda ends up getting killed and her death is bemoaned by her grieving father, while the worthless duke walks away without a scratch.
My favorite songs in Rigoletto are all the duets between father and daughter, because they are so sweet and tender. I cannot help but like La donna e mobile (sequencer Bill King) which the cad of the duke sings about the fickleness of women.
Oh, oh, oh!!! I love La Traviata! La Traviata (The Fallen One) is based on the story Camille. You remember Camille ... I think it had Greta Garbo in it. Anyway, Violetta Valery (soprano) a courtesan already ill with consumption, falls in love with innocent Alfredo (tenor). Through a series of tragic events, Violetta gives us one final aria before she dies in the arms of her beloved Alfredo. According to Dizikes, La Traviata was targeted by moral leaders of the time for its lewdness (a courtesan, for crying out loud), yet women flocked to this opera in hoards. They perhaps understood that Violetta was perhaps the most morally correct of all the characters.
There are so many great songs in La Traviata. The last part of Act II when Alfredo denounces Violetta in front of a party is mesmerizing. Alfredo's Drinking Song (sequencer Marco Milano) is catchy, and Violetta's song Sempre libera (sequencer Marco Milano) makes you want to jump up and sing some high notes. Of course, when Violetta sings Addio del passato (sequencer Bill King) on her death bed, it is time to grab your hankies as she sings her goodbye to happiness. WAHHHH! Anyway, La Traviata is fantastic. I recommend anyone seeing it.
Thanks, Linda, for the opera house pic!
Most of the midis on this page were found on the Aria Database.