Verdi's Operas: Macbeth

This year (and probably part of next year), I’m listening to the operas of Giuseppe Verdi. I’ve heard some of his operas and have seen Macbeth and Simon Boccanegra. But I’ve been curious about his several others. So, I decided to purchase the 2013 75-CD set of Verdi’s operas (and additional music), and then listen in order. For reference I'm reading Charles Osborne, The Complete Operas of Verdi (New York: Knopf, 1979). 

Macbeth premiered at the Teatro della Pergola in Florence March 14, 1847. In a revised version, it premiered at the Théâtre Lyrique, April 21, 1865. The later version is the one most often performed. This recording is conducted by Claudio Abbado with the Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Alla Scalla, with Piero Cappuccilli, Nicolai Ghiaurov, Sherley Verrett, and Placido Domingo among the cast. 

We loved seeing Macbeth performed a few years ago by the Opera Theatre of St. Louis! How lovely to listen to the opera again!  

Osborne writes that “Verdi’s Macbeth is worthy to stand beside Shakespeare’s.” While not disparaging Verdi’s early works, he writes that “with Macbeth Verdi takes an immense leap forward: a leap away from the conventional demands of the time, and towards dramatic truth and a musical style which combines psychological depth with a continuing abundance of that prolific and individual melodic gift which was never to desert him. His intuitive feeling for Shakespeare was obviously to a large extent responsible for this.” (Of course, two of Verdi's most acclaimed masterpieces are based on Shakespeare's work: Otello (1887) and Falstaff (1893).

Verdi himself wrote a prose version of Shakespeare’s Macbeth and gave it to poet Francesco Piave to write a libretto. Piave was a reliable writer for Verdi: over the years he wrote the librettos for Ernadi, I due Foscari, Attila, both versions of Macbeth, Il corsaro, Stiffelio, Rigoletto, La traviata, Simon Boccanegra, Aroldo, and La forza del destino.  

In another chapter of his book, Osborne discusses the mystery of an unwritten Shakespearian opera, King Lear (or, as it would've been in Italian, Il re Lear). As early as 1843, Verdi expressed interest in such an opera. During the 1850s, he paid the playwright Antonia Somma to write the libretto. Yet Verdi always set the project aside to write other operas. 

Osborne explains that something about Lear’s madness, or perhaps Lear’s feeling for Cordelia, unsettled Verdi and kept him psychologically from tackling the subject (pp. 77-82). 

Verdi's Operas: Attila

This year (and probably part of next year), I’m listening to the operas of Giuseppe Verdi. I’ve heard some of his operas and have seen Macbeth and Simon Boccanegra. But I’ve been curious about his several others. So, I decided to purchase the 2013 75-CD set of Verdi’s operas (and additional music), and then listen in order. For reference I'm reading Charles Osborne, The Complete Operas of Verdi (New York: Knopf, 1979). 

The composer famously referred to his “years in the galley": the several years where he wrote 13 operas between “Nabucco” in 1842 and “Rigoletto” in 1851. He probably referred to the labor-intensive work of a galley slave on a ship. Alzira and Attila are considered among Verdi’s lesser operas even of this early period of his compositions. I did enjoy listening to them, although recognizing that they aren’t nearly as memorable as his grater works. 

This recording is conducted by Lamberto Gardelli, with the Royal Philharmonie Orchestra, the Ambrosian Singers, and the Finchley Children’s Music Group. Ruggero Raimondi, Sherrill Milnes, and Charlo Bergonzi are among the cast. Attila premiered at Teatro La Fenice in Venice Mary 17, 1846

The story is based on a German play about Attila the Hun. The opera premiered in Venice, where the Venetians loved the depiction of the heroic Italians. Charles Osborne notes that Verdi’s health wasn’t good during this period. In fact, he took six months of complete inactivity during 1846. This may account for the fact that Alzira and Attila are not among even his middling works. 

Verdi's Operas: Alzira

This year (and probably part of next year), I’m listening to the operas of Giuseppe Verdi. I’ve heard some of his operas and have seen Macbeth and Simon Boccanegra. But I’ve been curious about his several others. So, I decided to purchase the 2013 75-CD set of Verdi’s operas (and additional music), and then listen in order. For reference I’ll study Charles Osborne, The Complete Operas of Verdi (New York: Knopf, 1979). 

The composer famously referred to his “years in the galley": the several years where he wrote 13 operas between “Nabucco” in 1842 and “Rigoletto” in 1851. He probably referred to the labor-intensive work of a galley slave on a ship. From what I’ve read, Alzira and Attila are considered among Verdi’s lesser operas. I did enjoy listening to them, although recognizing that they aren’t nearly as memorable as his grater works. 

This recording of Alzira is conducted by Fabio Luisa, L’Orchestre de la Suisse Romande and the Choeur du Grand Theatre de Geneve. The opera premiered at Teatro San Carlo in Naples August 12, 1845

The story concerns the Incas of Peru and the Spanish government.  It is based on Voltaire’s play Alzire. Charles Osborne questions whether Voltaire would’ve meant to uphold Christian morals compared to those of the Incas. Osborne wonders why the agnostic Verdi was attracted to the story. But he thinks the opera—one of Verdi’s least successful—is still enjoyable. 

Verdi's Operas: Giovanna d'Arco

This year (and probably part of next year), I’m listening to the operas of Giuseppe Verdi. I’ve heard some of his operas and have seen Macbeth and Simon Boccanegra. But I’ve been curious about his several others. So, I decided to purchase the 2013 75-CD set of Verdi’s operas (and additional music), and then listen in order. For reference, I'm studying Charles Osborne, The Complete Operas of Verdi (New York: Knopf, 1979). 

I’ve been listening right along. A summer visit to our cousin in Indianapolis—she reads my blog posts—reminded me that I need to catch up on writing about the operas! 

Verdi's opera about Joan of Arc premiered at La Scala on February 15, 1845. This performance is conducted by Paolo Garignani of the Philharmonica Chor Wien and the Munchner Rundfunkorchester. Anna Netrebko sings Giovanna, and Placido Domino sings Giacomo. 

The libretto is based on Schiller’s play Die Jungfrau von Orleans. Robert Osborne writes, “Solera’s libretto for Giovanna d’Arco is generally thought of as the epitome of the really silly opera libretto.” The story has Joan in love with the French Dauphin, so that she is caught between her love interest and her sacred duty. She dies in battle rather than by execution. Osborne comments that Schiller was a romantic like Byron and Hugo, and so this approach to the story appealed to Verdi. 

Osborne comments that although the libretto is two-dimensional, Verdi does write beautiful melodies as always. He writes, “One can love Tristan or Die Walkure while remaining impervious to Die Feen, Das Liebesverbot or Rienzi, for Wagner’s early efforts are heavily charmless; but I distrust the man who says he adores Flagstaff yet has no soft spot for Il corsaro or I masnadierei. Giovanna d’Arco has a curiously primitive but pervasive charm of its own that sets it apart from bigger works like Nabucco and Ernani.”

How Can I Find My Way Home?

Here is my wife Beth's devotion for our church to complement today's sermon. 

Devotion for July 11, 2021

By Beth Stroble

How can I find my way home?

This question, voiced by Simba (in the song “Endless Night”) at a defining moment in the Lion King story, expresses sorrow for the loss of his father Mufasa’s guidance.  Recalling Mufasa’s words about the Great Ones of the past always looking down on them, he yearns for his father’s presence through a sign—even a word that gives hope for the future, a marker for the way home.

Home, of course, has many meanings—an actual residence, a town, or community of our growing up years—at its most literal. Home can be one place or many. As one who has lived many places, I typically think of home as “where you hang your hat.” But to truly feel that a place is home evokes John Denver’s words, “Take me home, country roads, to the place I belong. . .” Simba recognizes that carefree cavorting with Timon and Pumbaa is not where he belongs and feels called to return to his rightful home.  Can he anchor himself once more in his father’s love and care for him and bridge the connection Simba feels has been broken?

The parallels to the story of the Prodigal Son from Luke 15: 11-32 are striking. While the circumstances that prompt the younger son to claim his inheritance and leave his father’s home are not Simba’s, we know that his “trip to a land far away” does not go well.  “There, he wasted his wealth through extravagant living” (verse 13). Just as Simba is reduced to eating bugs with a warthog and a meerkat, the prodigal son hires himself out to feed pigs, yearning to eat as well as they do.  In the Common English Bible translation, we learn that these circumstances prompt the son to “come to his senses” (17).  The NRSV translation describes this moment of insight as the time when the son “comes to himself.” Finding his way home depends upon his recognition of his need for his father’s love and care, a birthright he believes he has squandered and no longer deserves.

In both cases, the fathers’ love has remained constant and was never lost by these two sons. Simba’s father appears to him as an image in the water, encouraging him to come to himself as king. When the prodigal son’s father sees him coming at a long distance, he runs to him with open arms, expressing joy and compassion in his return. The son who was dead has come to life. “He was lost and is found!” (24) Simba and the prodigal son find their way home, the place where they belong.

These stories of being lost and found matter.  Each of us may have stories of times when we lost our way and strayed from our true and best selves for any number of reasons. Blessed are we when these stories also include the joyous welcome and love of friends and family when we have found our way!

What we know is that our heavenly Father always welcomes us home.  We never lose God’s love and grace, and God constantly intervenes in our lives to bring us home. As Jesus explains to his disciples, “I have come down from heaven not to do my will, but the will of him who sent me. This is the will of the one who sent me, that I won’t lose anything he has given me, but I will raise it up at the last day” (John 6:38-39). We are those he was sent to claim and to raise up.  We are the sheep of his pasture.  We are the lost coin. We are the prodigal son. We may stray from the kingdom, but the kingdom is never lost to us because of the grace, love and care of our Father. All we need do is come to ourselves as children of God, those who have been redeemed by Christ Jesus, and cared for by the Holy Spirit.

We were lost and now are found. Hallelujah. Amen.

Retelling Stories

A devotion written for our church for this past Sunday.

Retelling Stories

Deuteronomy 26:1-10

Paul Stroble

Have you seen Hamilton? We’ve seen it twice: live at the Fox, and again on Disney+. The musical premiered Off-Broadway in February 2015 and on Broadway a few months later in August. Composer Lin-Manuel Miranda read Ron Chernow’s 2004 biography of Alexander Hamilton and became inspired to write the show.

The musical’s story begins as Hamilton reflects on his difficult early life. He had been born in the Caribbean, of unmarried parents, and suffered misfortunes as he grew and eventually struggled to succeed. The musical introduces us to the many figures in Hamilton’s life and traces his journey as a significant Founding Father. Of course, Hamilton is later assassinated by Vice President Aaron Burr. Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton survives Alexander by fifty years and devotes her life to the care of orphans.

The musical Hamilton draws from music like hip hop, R&B, pop, and soul. Much of the story is told in rap. The musical casts black and Latino actors in many of the roles. Miranda himself is of Puerto Rican and Mexican descent. He plays Hamilton himself.

Miranda writes, “This is a story about American then, told by American now, and we want to eliminate any distance between a contemporary audience and this story.” Another writer notes that “the founders really didn’t want to create the country we actually live in today.” So, Miranda retells the story of Alexander Hamilton and transforms it for our contemporary time, with its racial and ethnic diversity and ongoing struggles concerning immigration and social justice.

One of the things that fascinates me about the Bible, is that it does what Hamilton does! There are places where Bible passages reinterpret and retell other passages. For instance, Deuteronomy retells the story of Israel and reiterates God’s laws, giving a theological perspective that helps Israel get ready for the future in the Land. 1 and 2 Chronicles retells the story of Israel’s monarchy, previously told in 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 and 2 Kings, but this time emphasizing the responsibility for Israel’s future to each generation of Bible readers. Stephen’s sermon in Acts 7 surveys the biblical history, in order to confront the religious leaders: the Prophets were often opposed by their communities, and so was Jesus in Stephen’s own time.

The book of Hebrews has several passages where Old Testament practices and stories are retold—often without what we would call historical accuracy—to make important theological points about Jesus. In important ways, the salvation of Jesus is a retelling of the story of the Exodus and the Mosaic covenant.

I’m taking a lot of devotional space, but I wanted to emphasize that the Bible itself gives us permission to study, apply, and reread its passages for contemporary situations. A “strict constructionist” approach to the Bible isn’t necessary or recommended. We always retell the Bible passages for new circumstances.

Our Deuteronomy passage is another example. It contains a wonderful confession of faith. “A wandering Aramean was my father” (verse 5). It is very interesting that the Bible refers to Jacob in this way. Abraham, his grandfather, was originally from the land of Aram, as was Jacob’s mother Rebecca. But since Abraham came to be called a Hebrew (Gen. 14), the text could’ve identified Jacob as a Hebrew, as well. Instead, it focuses upon his origins—where his family originally came from! It also focuses upon his vulnerability. He is a wanderer. He spends many years in an insecure situation, struggling with an uncertain future.

One of the favorite songs of Hamilton is “My Shot.” Hamilton sings, “Hey yo, I'm just like my country/I'm young, scrappy and hungry/And I'm not throwin' away my shot.” Of course, the phrase means to step up and do something while you have the chance. Pastor Linda points out how our Deuteronomy scripture enjoins the Israelites to be a blessing to others. Remembering their background with humility and gratitude, they can always “take their shot” by providing for others, doing good deeds, and worshiping God in faithfulness.

We Gentile Christians can do the same! Like the cast of Hamilton, we’re part of an old story that didn’t originally include people of our ethnic and national origins. But we have a “shot” every day to be faithful to the Lord, to serve him, and to do good in society. Like both Alexander and Elizabeth, we can look around and see ways where we can be influential for good.

Prayer: Dear Lord, open our hearts and eyes and minds to ways to serve you eagerly and gratefully in the world. Help our hearts to feel compassion for the immigrant, the homeless, and all who live in uncertainty. Amen.

(After I wrote this, I thought of the musical 1776, which I saw at the Little Theatre in Sullivan, IL in the 1970s. It is another kind of retelling of early America: the congressional proceedings that led to the vote for independence. It was an upbeat, often bawdy story well-timed for the national Bicentennial, with John Adams badgering the delegates to do the right thing.)