Maestro Gursky takes up the baton for Alfano’s Sakùntala

 

Maestro Israel Gursky will conduct
Alfano's Sakúntala on Nov. 19

While a conductor is by definition a person who needs to communicate to many musicians with split-second timing, it’s clear that in order to be prepared for those electric showtime hours, it takes many hours of hard work—sometimes very lonely hours—to study the music and absorb all one can in order to conduct it when the time comes.  For the upcoming Teatro Grattacielo opera, Sakúntala, by Franco Alfano (1952, revised from 1921), Maestro Israel Gursky is not only poring over the score, but boning up as much as he can on the composer, the times in which the work was written, even the politics that were in play at the time. 

No newcomer to verismo, Maestro Gursky has conducted plenty of Puccini. “But,” he says, “the musical language of Sakúntala takes a step beyond Puccini's sound-world: The harmonies are more daring, the orchestration is more complex and the demands upon the performers - singers and orchestra alike - are ever more formidable." 

Originally written in 1921, Sakúntala was written during a period when many composers expanded the size and the role of the orchestra in their operas, and consequently placed ever bigger demands upon their singers. “One can see this In Puccini’s final opera, Turandot, which Alfano completed.  Puccini uses a very large orchestra in Turandot, with a big percussion section and off-stage brass, but the roles of Turandot and Calaf are hard to cast, with their long sustained phrases riding over the large orchestra and persistently high tessitura. One sees this also in Strauss's Die Frau Ohne Schatten, premiered in 1919, or in the operas of Korngold which were also written during that period and all use very large orchestras." 

“Just by looking at the orchestral score of Sakúntala , it becomes obvious that Alfano expected to have almost limitless resources at his disposal, and probably luxurious rehearsal time as well.  Take, for example, Puccini’s La Bohème: there is a passage where Puccini gives a note to the violas –and asks that  desks 1, 3, and  5 play one note, and desks 2, 4, and 6 play another. That means that he expected to have 12 violas at least. How often to you find 12 violas in an opera orchestra today?  

While last year’s opera, La Nave—also premiered in 1919—was a complicated piece, “Sakúntala presents even more challenges for the orchestra."  The instrumentation calls for a large percussion section, 2 harps, piano, celesta and heavily-divided strings: often divided by desk, and sometimes even divided by player.  The harmonic language is very advanced, often pushing the limits of tonality, and many of the orchestral parts are quite virtuosic.   "But while it’s a challenge for all of us, we are looking forward to performing in a new hall this year, the Skirball Center.”  It’s a somewhat smaller theater than in previous years, but there could be advantages to performing in a more intimate venue. “in smaller theaters singers often have more of an opportunity to sing softly and play with dynamics in a way that the audience can hear and appreciate.  That’s what we are trying to achieve.”

Gursky agrees with Alan Mallach, whose book “The Autumn of Italian Opera” states that verismo was the last great blooming of this artform. “Opera was a big deal back then, and opera singers - think of sopranos like Maria Jeritza, Rosa Raisa—were the big stars who headlined such difficult works.”  Today companies such as Teatro Grattacielo demonstrate that the resources are still there, and are gathered to perform this difficult repertoire, even if it is for one performance a year.

Alfano had a strong French influence.  “I hear so much of Ravel and Debussy in it,” says Gursky. “ especially Debussy's La Mer, for one, which also has two harps, and often uses the meter of 6/4; a rather unusual meter found frequently in Sakúntala.  The ballet music which begins the third act of Sakúntala even quotes one of the themes from the 2^ndmovement of La Mer.  There's no question that Debussy’s sound-world was in Alfano's mind while composing Sakúntala.”  

 

“In a way, Teatro Grattacielo is presenting a slice of musical history, of a musical style that was prominent before World War II,  and since then is encountered less often.  But during that time, those pieces were at the forefront of the artform.” 

Maestro Israel Gursky will conduct Franco Alfano’s masterpiece, Sakúntala, on November 19, at the Skirball Center in New York, at 8 p.m.  For more information, see www.grattacielo.org.

Sakùntala arrives in NY on November 19th

Teatro Grattacielo's 2013 offering for its one-night only, full-symphonic orchestra and world-class singers, is Franco Alfano's opera, Sakuntala.  Written in 1921 as La Leggenda di Sakuntala, and conducted by Tullio Serafin, the opera was such a success that Toscanini asked Alfano to complete the last scene of the late Puccini's opera Turandot.  A mixed success for his reputation, Alfano had a difficult time living it down thereafter, although his operas Risurezzione and Cyrano de Bergerac had some measure of success during his lifetime.  La Leggenda di Sakuntala had the ignominious fate of having its score and parts destroyed in an Allied raid during WWII--or so it was thought at the time.  This is a series of photos taken of the Ricordi organization after the bombing.

Undaunted, Alfano took the vocal score, which had been engraved and published by Ricordi, and re-orchestrated the whole thing from 1948 to 1952, making other changes to the structure and enhancing the orchestration, re-titling it simply Sakuntala.  Since it takes large forces to perform, this version was not often programmed, and at Alfano's death in 1957 it was seen only seven times.
Some fifty years later when the Rome Opera decided to revive the opera, Ricordi miraculously found the original 1921 score and this, the original version of the opera, was presented in Rome during their 2006 season, and it is this version of the score that will be presented by Teatro Grattacielo on November 19, 2013 at the Skirball Center in New York.

Original costume design from the first production

Xena Operatica

La Nave is one of those operas that has remained more in the consciousness of musicologists than in the repertoire of opera companies. Huge in scope, needy in resources and forces to perform, as a staged production it would probably bankrupt any company out there, even if it used a Met-Machine with dozens of flapping metal see-saws. Written in 1918 by Italo Montemezzi, it was something of a cash-cow for author Gabriele D'Annunzio, the king of decadence. As a play in 1908 it made a deep impact on the audiences of the time, expressing itself as a tragedy that used symbolism to depict the confusion that Italy was in, and had a point of view that Italy was a ship that needed to arm its prow and head off into the world.

The story concerns two families in ancient, nascent Venice in 552 AD. The Gratico family has won out, and the Faledro family has lost.  The Faledros have been punished by blinding all the men, and cutting out the tongues of the sons as well.  The two Gratico brothers arrive, one as the Tribune, one as the bishop.  At the same time, the Faledro's daughter enters as well, her name Basiliola. She is at once incarnate Salome, Jezebel and Xena wrapped up in one. Leading the two Graticos to believe she is not there to avenge her father and brothers, she begins to seduce them through dance.

In fact she inflames them so much they have a pitched battle between them, with the Tribune killing his brother the bishop; Basiliola is held up as the cause of it all, and is eventually nailed to the prow of the ship as a kind of living masthead as the Ship -- the Nave of the title is launched and heads off to conquer parts unknown.
Productions of the play, with music by Ildebrano Pizzetti, appeared all over Italy, and in 1912 a film was made of the blood-soaked story, the only vestiges of which seem to be a series of postcards - a major marketing method at the time.

Then in 1918, composer Italo Montemezzi decided to improve on his opera L'Amore dei tre Re, and jumped on the bandwagon to adapt D'Annunzio's epic.  No less than his publisher, Tito Ricordi adapted the 300-page script for the music.

While the opera was considered a success when it premiered at La Scala in Nov. 1918, it was Italy again that was the likely audience.  The end of the first world war was announced during the premiere, which helped its popularity, and the rather jingoistic point of view in the story prepared Italians for the occupation of Fiume, effected by D'Annunzio himself in military regalia, and four years later, for the March on Rome by D'Annunzio's rival and erstwhile friend Benito Mussolini. But the opera never found a worldwide audience.
In 1921 another film was made, one that seems more sophisticated than the first one, which still exists today and has a certain raw power to it.  It starred dancer Ida Rubinstein, who was second only to Isadora Duncan in international popularity in the dance world. Both play and opera stress dance as a means of expression in La Nave, much in the same way as Wilde's (and Strauss's) Salome. In fact, the temptress who dances to gain influence is almost identical in D'Annunzio's conceptualization of the story.

Hardly a man is left alive who has seen the last production of this opera. No one has heard a bit of it in concerts, salons, or retrospectives.

You must come see this work on October 29, 2012, at the Rose Theater, Home of Jazz, in New York, presented in concert by Teatro Grattacielo.

La Nave is coming . . .

No, it's not Fellini's La Nave Va, although you might think the story was derived from the fevered brain of the Italian film director.  Written as a play in 1908 by Gabriele D'Annunzio (who surpassed any film director's maddened visions), La Nave is a dazzling work that oozes with turn-of-the-last-century Italian decadence and angoscio (if that is the word they'd use for angst).

Italo Montemezzi used the play as a basis for his opera, adapted by Tito Ricordi, in 1918. With massive sets and large casts, it played throughout Italy, and then came to Chicago Lyric Opera with Rosa Raisa, conducted by the composer, just after World War One.

Set in 6th century Venice, the story depicts the debasement of one ruling family and the rise of another. As they pass, so to speak on their trajectories, a woman from the defamed family, named Basiliola vows that she will capture the love and affection, if not unilateral power, of the upcoming Marco Gratico. An unlikely pairing from the start, as we see her father and brothers, blinded, some with their tongues cut out, paraded by.

A massive boat is being built and is almost ready to be launched, an overt symbol of Italy's yearning to take part in the world's power struggle to colonize at the time.
With all the charm of a cobra, Basiliola works her wiles on Marco, dancing before him half-nude, seducing him in a pagan rite on the very steps of the basilica in Venice.  In a rather sado-masochistic frenzy, she shoots prisoners in a pit with arrows, and they beg for more, as though they were kisses.

At the final crisis, Marco becomes ruler of Venice and Basiliola, in an attempt to save face with a noble death, asks to be sacrificed.  In the original play she is burned at the stake, but the opera has an even more spectacular ending with her being nailed to the prow of the ship that takes off for parts unknown, to bring glory to Italy as a world power.

La Traviata it ain't.

And yet, it is a wonderful operatic tour de force, not seen in this country for ninety or more years, and never recorded. This year Teatro Grattacielo will be performing it in concert, and it is not to be missed.

Tonight at 8 PM -- Two operatic rarities

This evening Teatro Grattacielo will present two one-act operatic rarities: I Compagnacci from 1923, by Primo Riccitelli, whose work is seldom heard in America, and Il Re, a better-known, but still seldom-performed opera from 1929 by Umberto Giordano, who is best known for his Andrea Chénier.
Blogs are blogging about it, articles being written about the event, so all should be set for a full house tonight at Rose Theater, Home of Jazz - (although don't look for either a "the" before the "Rose" or much publicity on the venue's site...).
Tonight's performance will feature Jessica Klein, Joanna Mongiardo, Peter Castaldi, and John Maynard in the casts, and should prove to be a lively event. Libretti are online, and printed copies will be available at the door (but they go fast, so get there early!)

Agnese Riccitelli in New York

Teatro Grattacielo, foremost opera company in New York to breathe new life into the deserving repertory of late 19th, early 20th century Italy, is graced with the presence of Agnese Riccitelli, the great grand-niece of composer Primo Riccitelli, whose opera "I Compagnacci" will be performed next month. Ms Riccitelli, an enthusiastic dancer and dance historian, has championed the work of her ancestor, and will be in the audience for the performance on May 24.
She joined artistic director Duane Printz at Restaurant Quattro Gatti last week, and met the production company.

"Riccitelli was a fine musical craftsman," said David Wroe, Teatro Grattacielo's conductor, "it's obvious that he studied with the best." As it happens, he studied with Pietro Mascagni at the Rossini Conservatory in Pesaro.

Born in 1875, Pancrazio Riccitelli (Primo was a stage-name), was born in Cognoli di Campli 1875. At the Rossini Conservatory he studied with opera composer Riccardo Zandonai as a fellow student. It was there that he wrote his first operas, "Francesca da Rimini", and "Suora Maddalena" -- both of which are now unfortunately lost.

Riccitelli had the poor luck to be caught in the publishing struggle that happened in the Sonzongno family, which ended up blocking performances of his work, thanks to a rights dispute. Even though Renzo Sonzogno commissioned him to write "Madonna Oretta," which was performed to great acclaim, Riccitelli did not receive his entire fee for writing it, and the work was never published.

It was "I Compagnacci" that caught the public's fancy, and made Ricitelli's name an operatic byword in Italy. The opera won first prize in a national competition that was judged by Puccini, Mascagni and Cilèa in 1922 and then it was presented at the Teatro Costanzi, followed by performances at La Scala in 1923 and at the Metropolitan in 1924. Later, in November, 1924 "I Compagnacci" was performed on a double bill with Richard Strauss's "Salome" -- after the tragedy, not before it, as one might expect. It was lauded as being able to lift the spirits of the audience after Strauss's gloomy drama.

Riccitelli's one act opera was heard in a number of other theaters as well as on the air from 1925-1930. In 1931, it had the distinction of being the first opera ever broadcast in Italy over the EIAR network (which later became the RAI).

After many years sitting in a drawer, the opera "Madonna Oretta" was finally produced to great acclaim, with 26 curtain calls for the composer. For the next ten years Riccitelli took his two operas on the road, performing them throughout Italy.

Then in March, 1941, after an arduous life of struggling to get his music heard, and working on another opera, "Captain Fracassa," Primo Riccitelli died after a short illness. The war took its toll on his popularity, and the two operas that do survive him have not been heard since 1948.

Now Teatro Grattacielo is proud to present "I Compagnacci" again, for the New York area to hear and enjoy again.

Libretto for I Compagnacci on site

The libretti for I Compagnacci and "Il Re" are now on the Teatro Grattacielo site.

While I Compagnacci and its composer, Primo Riccitelli, is not a staple in the operatic currency, the music is lively and very accessible, and the story, which is by Giovacchino Forzano, is one that is surprisingly multi-dimensional and compelling as a play, and makes for thrilling opera as well. In one act, it is a highly compressed action-packed love story, as well as a black comedy. To appreciate the latter aspect, one needs to be somewhat acquainted with the story of Savaranola, the 15th century Italian Dominican friar who was known for his radical ideas, seeing Florence as being corrupt under Pope Alexander VI. He advocated book burning (known as the "Bonfire of the Vanities", destroying art he considered to be "immoral" and spread his opinions as to how the Renaissance ought to glorify Italy not destroy it.

On May 13, 1497, Savonarola was excommunicated by Pope Alexander VI, and in 1498, Alexander demanded his arrest and execution. Savonarola and two followers were tortured on the rack, the torturers sparing only Savonarola’s right arm in order that he might be able to sign his confession. On the day of his execution, Savonarola was taken out to the Piazza della Signoria along with Fra Silvestro and Fra Domenico da Pescia. The three were ritually stripped of their clerical vestments, degraded as "heretics and schismatics", and given over to the secular authorities to be burned. The three were hanged in chains from a single cross and an enormous fire was lit beneath them. They were thereby executed in the same place where the "Bonfire of the Vanities" had been lit. It was a particularly grisly end to a church reformer who tried to scale back the excesses of one of the Borgia popes. How on earth does one use such gruesome details to make a comedy, albeit a very black one?

Forzano (who also wrote the libretto to Il Re), was a very clever librettist, author, playwright, and director. He wrote libretti for Puccini (Suor Angelica, Gianni Schicchi), Mascagni (Il Piccolo Marat, Lodoletta), as well as Franchetti, Leoncavallo, and Giordano.

Forzano was a force of nature. Born in 1884, he lived a long life, dying in 1970. A Florentine, it is of note that he enjoyed setting works in historical Florence such as Gianni Schicchi and I Compagnacci. He was a feisty guy, with a mind of his own. Mascagni, no slouch in the individualist department, couldn't get along with him, and while Forzano was with Puccini working on rehearsals of Schicchi, asked his old librettist from Cavalleria Rusticana to complete the libretto for Il Piccolo Marat, and to this day the verses not composed by Forzano appear in italics to set them apart.

Unfortunately, Forzano fell in with the Fascisti (it is always good to be an artist on the side of those with the money); and he actually wrote and produced three plays with Il Duce that were meant to be rousing studies in political life; one was about Napoleon, another about Caesar. Forzano's reputation suffered because of this, after the war, and were it not for his libretti he probably would be forgotten altogether except in Italy.

His film "Black Shirts" will be shown in April as part of a film festival.