il tenore preferito dal mio papà che adorava la musica lirica, diceva che era una voce pura e potente, che usciva dal cuore con sentimento e senza fronzoli.
Dolce notte! Quante stelle! Non le vidi mai si belle! Trema, brilla ogni favilla... Col baglior d'una pupilla. Oh quanti occhi fissi, attenti d'ogni parte a riguardor, pei firmamenti, via pei lidi, via pel mare... Quanti occhi fissi attenti, quanti sguardi Ride il ciel Ah Dolce notte! Tutto estatico d'amor ride il ciel!
People are saying they like this "new interpretation" (as I understand it, written by Donizetti himself at a later date) and that opera should not be stale and always sing exactly the same thing. That is true, of course. This view is very well represented. Many people seem to love this version; awesome. Some people are also complaining that it's not the aria they know and love. They get replies affirming what is said above. Although they are saying a very true and important thing, I don't feel their point of view is properly represented, and I don't even feel it's respected based on some of the replies they get. I'd like to present a firm point of view representing the disappointment of not hearing the original (yes, original; this is a second version Donizzetti wrote, so it's not the original, as I understand it) aria that everyone is used it. When you hear an aria, or go to the opera, either you know it already or you don't know it at all. Assuming you have some passing knowledge, you will hear things that are familiar. You may never have seen Rigoletto, but you will know the intro of La Donna è Mobile instantly. Turandot or Pagliacci may mean nothing to you, but you will certainly be familiar with certain moments of Nessun Dorma or Vesti la Giubba. And if you know these operas better than just in passing, you will probably enjoy these arias. You know how the notes go; in fact, you may well love them. And what you get to hear is how that singer in particular does it, how they frase, how they sound, how they emote. Let's be quite clear, just because they all sing the same notes it does not mean they all sing the same thing, or the same way. Only lesser singers do that. The great ones are absolutely individual and characteristic in their performances - always without changing a thing that the composer wrote. And you get to expect those sounds. You expect that aria, that phrase. You expect to be thrilled by certain high notes, and to be enamoured by certain pianos. Where do your expectations come from? Probably from other singers; if you expect a beautiful pianissimo at the end of "Io son l'umille ancella", because you heard some sopranos do it extraordinarily, other singers will defy your expectations by doing it differently. Not wrong, differently. Now, these other sopranos are not doing anything wrong, but it is true that you will feel somewhat, if not cheated, then diminished. You loved that pianissimo when you heard it before, and you look forward to it during the aria. LIke you look forward to the cadenza of La Donna è Mobile, or the thrilling B in Nessun Dorma. You are the audience. You have certain expectations. These expectations are not random, and they have to do with how much you love what you're watching. You have come to watch "L'Elisir d'amore", and to hear those arias, which include "Una furtiva lagrima", a much, much loved aria, very well known. You want to hear that beautiful legato, those long notes, that elegance, you want to be lulled by its (now so familiar) melody. It is wrong to say that opera, or anything, should always be the same. Agreed. That way lies staleness. Still, if the audience reacts less positively to a change, it's always best to take it into account, and not just dismiss it. It should be respected that the audience has paid to watch a certain opera and, knowing the music, has certain expectations. For instance, they may have wanted to hear how Alagna would sing those very familiar lines of Lagrima. Upon realising that it is not the aria they expected, it is understandable for them to feel, maybe, somewhat cheated. To feel like "I came to hear this opera, with this aria, and instead I listened to something else. It was good and all, but I really, really loved the aria as I know it and am disappointed I didn't get to hear it". The frustration is real. I applaud the sheer courage and audacity to have a production of such a famous opera with such an unknown version of an extremely famous and well-loved aria. As a member of the audience, however (even if remotely, through the wonders of DVD), I am disappointed I didn't get to hear Alagna sing what I was really looking forward to hear him sing. And this feeling that I have is a point of view that should be respected and understood, too. Ultimately, opera will be kept alive because people want to go see it. So it's worth listening to all opinions. Not cater to everyone, no; but respect dissenting opinions, and allow that they have a place. And when you change an aria this famous, you will polarise. Still, it's naïve to imagine they didn't know they would polarise. I imagine they are very glad they got people talking about it. I prefer it when they get people talking about it for other reasons, but to each their own. It's been years, and it's still talked about, hasn't been forgotten. So, in a sense, mission accomplished. Finally, defying expectations is of course vital in art. I have seen two "Madama Butterfly"s which defied my expectations. I loved the first one, because I felt it made sense; I loathed the second, because I felt it didn't and actually went against the work. Clearly, however, the artistic production of this second one didn't agree with me. And that's fine. My point is, yes, defy expectations. You must. Simply, don't - and many directors are guilty of this - minimise the feelings of audience members who feel cheated when you not only counfound their expectations but also give them something they feel to be a poor substitute. Unless you want opera to be the domain of elitists. I'm glad some people like it, and I understand (full well) the people who don't. Both groups are correct in feeling as they do.
Che gelida manina, se la lasci riscaldar Cercar, che giova? Al buio non si trova Ma per fortuna, è una notte di luna E qui la luna... l'abbiamo vicina Aspetti signorina Le dirò con due parole Chi son? chi son! E che faccio Come vivo? Vuole? Chi son? Chi son? Sono un poeta Che cosa faccio? Scrivo E come vivo? Vivo In povertà mia lieta Scialo da gran signore Rime ed inni d'amore Per sogni e per chimere E per castelli in aria L'anima ho milionaria Talor dal mio forziere Ruban tutti i gioelli Due ladri: gli occhi belli V'entrar com voi pur ora Ed i miei sogni usati E i bei sogni miei tosto si dileguar Ma il furto non m'accora Poiché, poiché v'ha preso stanza, la speranza Or che mi conoscete, parlate voi, deh parlate Chi siete? Vi piaccia dir?
I once gave this guy a kudos years ago here. Now that I've seen since Bonisolli ragazzi pazzi slamming other tenors, all I gotta say is his nickname Il Pazzo is well deserved. Notice the orchestra does not applaud him (tap the music stand with the violin bow). Says a lot. [Franco Bonisolli - Di quella pira, @vladutze84]
I had lessons with him when he was 65 years old and his voice still sounded as beautiful as in this video. I remember once during the lesson he sung "la donna è mobile" at 10 o clock in the morning, probably he woke up less than one hour before. I was impressed from his beautiful and powerful voice. One of the best tenor I ever heard in my opinion. 🥰
Ho avuto l'onore di conoscerlo a Sassari nell'interpretazione di Tosca e, successivamente nel Trivatore, io corista lui già grandissimo cantante con una voce potente ma dolce e sempre equilibrata. Un grande allora come ora. Complimenti Maestro
