The Way Home

I was introduced to Claudio Monteverdi at school when we went with our music teacher, Alan Morgan, to Sadler’s Wells theatre to see his opera “L’Orfeo” in a ‘realisation’ by Raymond Leppard.  Leppard’s early baroque productions are no longer considered  comme il faut since the authentic music revival has revolutionised the way this repertoire is now performed. In fairness, however, Leppard did bring these hitherto unknown works to the public’s attention and, even with modern instruments, his productions were rather effective.

‘L’Orfeo’ was written in 1607 for a court performance during the annual Mantua carnival and is one of the earliest operas. (Jacopo Peri’s ‘Dafne’ is regarded as the first opera, written in 1598 for the Florentine Camerata.)

Monteverdi returned to opera towards the end of his life when he was asked by the Venetian republic to write for the new theatres there. Sadly at least seven of the composer’s operas have been lost and only ‘l’Incoronazione di Poppea’ and ‘Il Ritorno di Ulisse in Patria’ have survived.

On the other hand Monteverdi’s madrigals and most of his church music have survived. Why this situation? It’s clear that books of madrigals were purchased for home music-making and church music had its choirs requiring copies. The theatre, however, is more ephemeral and first performances may often be the only performances. Even in more recent times, operas have still been lost; for example, Sullivan’s ‘Thespis’.

It’s therefore lucky that three complete Monteverdi operas have survived for us to enjoy.  I attended a performance of one of them ‘Il Ritorno di Ulisse in Patria’ – only rediscovered by accident at the end of the nineteenth century – at Florence’s Alla Pergola theatre last week. This charming theatre dates from 1656 and is Italy’s oldest extant opera house. It is also the first theatre with superimposed boxes arranged in a horseshoe fashion – something which became de rigeur in subsequent opera houses.

Incidentally, the name ‘pergola’ relates to the framework on the top floor from which a vine, now looking ever more luscious, droops down.

Many operatic premieres have taken place at the Teatro alla Pergola, most famously Verdi’s ‘Macbeth’ in 1847!

We think of Italian melodrama as being a succession of brilliant arias linked by recitatives. This is not quite the case with Monteverdi and early baroque opera. The ‘stile rappresentativo’ in which they are composed consists largely of an arioso style of singing half-way between recitativo and aria. This means that the text is paramount and that there are no examples of ‘da capo’ arias such as came later with Alessandro Scarlatti and his followers. There are few repetitions of words and the whole can be said to be’ through-composed’. In this respect Monteverdi is quite modern in outlook as operas since Wagner have tended to be composed with a similar aesthetic idea – they are in all senses, music dramas.

However, towards the end of his life Monteverdi did allow some arias to interrupt his ‘stile rappresentativo’ and also introduced more instrumental interludes to break up what might have become a tediously endless recitativo.

We are indeed in a period of great musical changes in the mid seventeenth century: late polyphony is turning into early baroque ‘stile rappresentativo’ and moving towards the fully-fledged high baroque operas of Handel and his ilk with their pyrotechnic arias and the rise of the opera diva.

‘Il Ritorno Di Ulisse in Patria’, written when Monteverdi was already 72 years old, was one of the first compositions intended for public theatres.  A few years earlier opera was an exclusive court entertainment but in 1637 the world’s first opera house was built in Venice and with it came the possibility for the public of seeing a show by just buying a ticket. Performances were no longer unique events but could be repeated – in short, theatre as we know it was born and in the following decade four more opera theatres were built in Venice.

I very much enjoyed the performance and its staging at the Teatro alla Pergola. Ottavio Dantone conducted the dazzling Accademia Bizantina with the most resonant cornette (an early baroque instrument and not to be confused with the modern brass cornet) I have heard.

The singers were equally excellent and included Charles Workman, Anicio Zorzi Giustiniani and Delphine Galou.

The stage scenery mirrored the theatre itself with the semicircle of boxes occupied by what presumably were the aristocracy of the times dressed in flaming red costumes. The main cast was dressed unobtrusively in more modern clothes.

I was so glad for the surtitles in both English and Italian for one couldn’t really miss a word in the unfolding drama of Ulysses’ return. Interestingly the libretto had no mention of Penelope’s weaving and unweaving of her cloth to keep the suitors at bay. They, unable to draw Ulysses’ bow-string, were eventually killed off by him when he handled the magic weapon. Penelope remained obstinate almost to the end, refusing to acknowledge Ulysses as her real husband. Even the old nurse’s recognition of a childhood scar (caused by a wild boar) on the returning hero’s back doesn’t convince her. It is when Ulysses accurately describes the pattern on their bed linen which Penelope has embroidered herself that she finally succumbs and realises that her beloved husband has returned from his long peregrinations around the Mediterranean.

Although my seat was ‘in the Gods’ I still obtained a very good view of the show as the Pergola is quite intimate in size and possesses heavenly acoustics!

The return of Ulysses to his homeland after years away has resonance in my own situation. Torn apart, not by any Trojan war but by a virus, we shall be spending our first wedding anniversary in forty-four years of marriage away from each other.

This is what I would have to do at present to reach the UK from Italy this summer (I’ve been double-vaxed).

Amber list passengers:

1. Be in receipt of a negative COVID-19 test, taken within 72 hours of arrival.

2. Book Covid tests for day 2 and 8 in the UK.

3. Complete a passenger locator form.

4. Self-quarantine in private accommodation for 10 full days after arrival (or full duration of stay if less than 10 days).

Last year we flew to Italy in the summer and back to the UK in the autumn and just required our standard passports and boarding passes in spite of the fact that both Italy and the UK were in the most desperate throes of the pandemic, far worse than now.

Shouldn’t these current precautions have been in place last year so that we could travel more easily (and safely) this year?

Anyway, there we are.

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Home-coming

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So near and yet so far in this strange year

like Ulysses will I see my birth’s isle

and sleep in the marriage bed with my dear

and sweetly dream forever and awhile?

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Could I remember that road high-sea sprung

towards the enchanted path that led home?

Could I live liberated and unstung,

enveloped in the waves’ perennial foam?

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I have left the lotus-eaters alone,

returned to be recognized by Argos

my faithful dog, by all the rest unknown

while the world hurls itself into chaos.

*

So be it but just let me hold your hand

and walk together to that golden land!

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Now its TWO pianos for twenty fingers

Lucca is lucky in its considerable number of ex-churches, monasteries and convents which have been put to new uses as libraries, arts, conference and academic centres. For example, the former convent of the Poor Clares at San Micheletto has been turned into a fine library, arts and conference centre, the Fondazione Ragghianti, with its photographic and media archives. The nuns have since 1973 found a new home in a country villa at San Quirico (see https://insantaunita.org/lucca-monastero-s-micheletto/) which we have also visited and where we had an interesting conversation on spiritual matters with the young Mother Superior.

Another monastery, that of Saint Francis with no less than four large cloisters, has similarly been given new life as the budding university of Lucca, the IMT (see https://www.imtlucca.it/). We were present at its lavish inauguration which is covered in my post at: https://longoio.wordpress.com/2013/07/07/magisterial-monastery/

The most recent reinvention of former Luccan ecclesiastical complexes is the ‘Real (‘Royal’) Collegio’ of Lucca. This is a non-profit organization in Lucca which was originally aimed at the city’s public education. The building where it is based once housed a monastery of the regular Canons of San Frediano and, when the convent was dissolved, the public library, the University of Lucca and the Real Collegio occupied it.

The original structure enclosed the convent annexed to the basilica of San Frediano and its oldest part dates back to the sixth century. In the 16th century the monastery contained an important theological school and was one of the centres of the Protestant reform in Lucca. (The first Italian translation of the Bible was disseminated from Lucca). In the second half of the 18th century the building became the seat of the Public Library, the Lucchese Academy of Sciences, Letters and Arts and the University of Lucca (which sadly was closed down in the nineteenth century, although there is promise that the new IMT institute of higher education may soon become a university). In 1818 the Academy was transferred to the nearby Palazzo Lucchesini, while the San Frediano building continued to house the Library and a preparatory high school with an adjoining boarding school called the ‘Real Collegio’. Among its students was the famous Luccan architect Lorenzo Nottolini who built Bagni di Lucca’s chain suspension bridge at Fornoli.

With the requisition of the monastery annexed to the church of Santa Maria Corteorlandini, (the ‘church of the Black Madonna’ – see my post on that extraordinary building at https://longoio.wordpress.com/tag/santa-maria-corteorlandini/

the library was moved there in 1877 where it remains.

The very extensive buildings of the Real Collegio are now for hire for a large variety of activities including concerts, trade fairs and the city’s comix and games festival. It was this last event when we first came across the Collegio since the Japanese manga displays were exhibited there. Today an activity takes place there virtually every day. It’s worth looking at the web page at https://www.realcollegiolucca.it/ to see what’s currently happening at the Collegio.

I visited this fine ex-monastery the other day to attend a concert of music for two pianos. A few days previously I’d been to a concert for one piano and four hands. Now it was going to be TWO pianos with four hands.

I had a quick look around the Real Collegio and was impressed by its size, its three cloisters, each one very different from the other and by the spaciousness of its refectory and chapter house.  In one of the cloisters there was a conference on dental implants. How nail-biting!

I thought to myself that in most cases in Italy when monasteries were dissolved they were luckily put to other uses including conversion into housing. How different from the disastrous story in the UK when that country’s monasteries were dissolved by the ghastly criminal Henry VIII and largely demolished for building material. What wonderful concert and exhibition spaces would have been provided by such places as Fountains, Tintern and Rievaulx abbeys if they had been left complete!  (At least Tintern provided Wordsworth with probably his finest poem. The following lines are particularly ecstatic:

“Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things”)

There were two pieces in the concert held in the courtyard of the first and oldest cloister, the Chiostro di Santa Caterina.

The Sonata in D major K448 for two pianos was composed by Mozart in November 1781. It is brilliantly written in a gallant style with moments of rare intensity and beauty, such as the central adagio. The finale is especially full of extreme brilliance and sparkling fun. There is, indeed, an almost orchestral texture to this wonderful sonata and I feel it could very easily be scored for a symphony orchestra.

You can hear the sonata here:

The second program piece was a transcription for two pianos of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony by Ernst Naumann, (1832 – 1910). Transcribing works of complex orchestral writing was a very widespread practice during the course of the nineteenth century; through this practice, the dissemination of works was guaranteed even in those places where there were no full orchestras. The transcribed text – Liszt wrote – “is to the orchestral composition like the engraving of a picture: it multiplies it, transmits it to everyone and, if it cannot render the colours, it still reproduces the lights and shadows”. (Clearly that comment was made before the invention of photography and sound recording.)

Beethoven’s symphonies are eminent among the works that were transcribed. Liszt, for example, did a piano adaptation of the first eight symphonies, while he transcribed the Ninth for two pianos.  (I have a fine vinyl recording of the legendary Glen Gould playing Liszt’s transcription of Beethoven’s fifth).

Of course, what is more difficult is re-creating the original’s orchestral timbre. However, what stood out in the evening’s performance was the exhilaratingly dominant rhythmic impetus of Beethoven’s Seventh symphony which Wagner described as the ‘apotheosis of the dance’. But others have not said such exalted things about the Seventh; Friedrich Wieck (Clara Schumann’s father) remarked that such music could have only been composed by the hand of a drunkard!  

(I am somehow reminded of Sybil Fawlty’s remarks to Basil , who was listening to a recording of classical music in his office asking why he hadn’t written the menu and hung the picture on the wall:

“You could’ve had them both done by now if you hadn’t spent the whole morning skulking in there, listening to that racket.”

To which Basil Fawlty replies”Racket? That’s Brahms! Brahms’s third racket!”)

I myself was drunk with the intoxicating rhythms driven hard by two pianos which are, after all, percussive instruments.  The pianists, Claudio Cantini and Giovanni Passalia, both graduates of Lucca’s ‘Luigi Boccherini’ conservatoire, played with real energy and sensitivity.  I am sure their hands and arms must have needed a warm bathe after the frenetically galloping rhythms of Beethoven’s Seventh.

In the beautiful setting of a Royal college and in the glorious evening of a July in Lucca with the twitter of birdsong filling the cloister’s yard and sweetly adding grace notes to the music being performed I could think of no better way to pass my time apart, of course, for that quattro stagioni pizza which followed it in the lively Piazza Napoleone of the walled tree-lined city!

The Heat’s On

The first of July brings with it some of Italy’s highest temperatures this year so far. Next week we may be touching forty degrees centigrade in my village at almost three thousand feet above sea level. Lucca must be steaming very soon.

There are escapes from the heat of course. The two main ones are up in the mountain woods and by the Tyrhennian Sea.

The other day I did the mountain road from Lugliano to the Pizzorne on my Honda 150 cc scooter. It’s only a road in name of course – a rough untarred track with deep ruts and rocky bits – a wonder that they list it as a normal road in local maps. However, summer is certainly the best way to attempt this route; in winter it must be almost impassable although a high wheel base 4 X 4 could do it.

The mountain road levels off as it enter the large grassy slopes of the top of the Pizzorne plateau. Here, near a little church, is a decent restaurant called Aldebaran where I fed on a delicious plate of tordelli, a Lucchese speciality which are like large irregularly shaped ravioli.

For the seaside I tend to choose Marina di Vecchiano which is a semi-wild beach oasis in the natural park south of Viareggio and Torre Del Lago. Here there are two restaurants but this time I went for the bar on the beach with its assortment of soft drinks and shorts plus a decent variety of ice-cream. I like to go there with a sun umbrella and a mat, cross the sand dunes and have a dip in the still relatively clean sea. Marina di Vecchiano is rather less crowded this year: perhaps one of the few benefits the pandemic can offer us.

I always like to return via an alternative route which takes me to Massaciuccoli and its spectacular view of Puccini’s lake:

Meanwhile there is another heat building up and I am not referring to the Canadian bubble. The first of July marks the half-year under brexitician rule for the United Kingdom. We non-leavers knew that there would be no benefits from this crazy decision, apart from the strengthening through unity of the tory party. Now however, some of the brighter leavers are beginning to think the same. I need not point out the difficulty of employers in finding suitable workers for a variety of occupations, especially catering and social services and the continuing dilemma facing Northern Ireland. Indeed, the combination of Brexit with COVID-19 is proving continuingly challenging. However, if one has the money it’s OK: as the most recent covid update I received from HM government states:

“Senior executives can temporarily leave quarantine in England if they are undertaking business activities which are likely to be of significant economic benefit to the UK.”

It’s definitely one law for some and another for the rest of us. Or as an acquaintance succinctly put it: “Well that would be right because the virus, like the government, respects money.”

The combination of covid protocol and Brexit bureaucracy has not prevented some of my braver UK friends from reaching ‘Il bel paese’. Apparently it might be an idea to invest in a car trailer to carry the extra baggage of forms and documents required, particularly for Brexit. At the same time there remain in Bagni di Lucca a certain number of British immigrants (I don’t like to call them ‘ex-pats’ any more) who firmly believe that their decision in voting for Brexit was the best thing since standing up against world powers in the Suez crisis of 1956.  I can’t quite believe it. Time will tell, I suppose. Or will it? Are we oldies meant to have the remainder of our life-span oppressed by Brexit and COVID-19? Not unless we want to of course. In lieu of travelling to more exotic locations the sea and the mountains provide perfect escapes from these disasters. Let us follow our paths there and forget the present angst of this Earth, at least for a while.

One Piano – Twenty Fingers

The first concert in the season organized by guitarist Giacomo Brunini and the Music School of Borgo a Mozzano was given in the town’s ex-Franciscan convent church of San Francesco.

The programme consisted entirely of piano duet (one piano, four hands) music performed by the Nicora-Baroffio piano duo.

I knew the two Bach pieces which opened the concert rather well but not in these versions for piano four-hands. There was once a time when music lovers did not have any sort of recorded media or access to a suitable instrument on which to play these pieces; this was the only way to get to know them.

Sometimes the music is a straight transcription of the original, as in Bach’s D minor organ prelude and fugue. Sometimes the transcribed piece may develop into something else. This was the case of the Chaconne, the last movement of Bach’s solo violin Partita no 2.  There are several transcriptions of this wonderful movement but I had only been acquainted with Busoni’s for one pianist and Brahms’s for left hand.

In Reinecke’s transcription the original harmonies and melodic lines suggested intuitively in the original were elaborated into a mammoth architecture which sounded impressive but was really somewhat vacuous. Why transform something which could be succinctly expressed as a Japanese Haiku into a pompous ode? It was fun, however, to hear the piece in this way…occasionally.

The remainder of the concert consisted of pieces expressly written for piano duet and they were rather more satisfying.

Cecile Chaminade’s (1857-1944) pieces, written in a late romantic style, were delightful.  Her ‘Hindu dance’, however, sounded more Indonesian than Indian. Like Debussy Chaminade must have been influenced by the Gamelan orchestra which came to Paris for the Great Exhibition of 1889.  After years of neglect her music is being rediscovered, especially by feminists, for she has been described as “not a woman who composes, but a composer who is a woman.”

Czerny’s fantasia on Mozart’s “Non più andrai” from his ‘Marriage of Figaro’ was quite pleasurable: a typical example of the grand fantasias on operatic themes pianists used to write for an evening’s entertainment in one’s sitting room or salon.

The performance of all pieces was first-rate. The two pianists were always musically together and interpreted their repertoire most idiomatically. They even managed to tame the somewhat resonant acoustics of the church’s high-vaulted nave and preserved clarity and expression.

I look forwards to the next concert in the season which is tonight at 9.15 PM in the Chiesa Della Rocca near Borgo a Mozzano when the Atzori-Brunini guitar duo will present ’Mirrors’ their new CD.

Places should be reserved by phone at

3498496612 (via WhatsApp)

or email at:

borgoamozzanomusica@gmail.com

Here is the complete list of future concerts in this series: