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[Editor's note: Introduction and translation from the original Italian by
Jean Peccei. The original version follows this translation.]
INTRODUCTION: This is a translation of an article sent to me by Laura Scandariato, who writes: "Obviously this analysis of Sly is similar to the others we have read, but I found it interesting because it was written on the occasion of its very first performance on December 29, 1927, when there had been no other points of view about the opera in circulation." I agree. In fact, I found it to be far more interesting and insightful, than the analytical pieces which have been written for the opera's revival in Zurich, Washington and Barcelona - not only for its in-depth examination of the play itself, but also for its extensive analysis of the relationship between Wolf-Ferrari's score and Giovacchino Forzano's libretto. In the article, the author quotes extensively from Shakespeare's original version of the Sly story. For accuracy, I have not re-translated these quotes back into English, but have instead used Shakespeare's original text. ENGLISH TRANSLATION:
Sly, an opera in three acts by E. Wolf-Ferrari Christopher Sly, the character who brought fame to Giovacchino Forzano, came out of an English tavern onto the edge of a wilderness hoping to find hospitality in an Italian villa on the shores of Lake Massaciuccoli [a reference to the libretto having originally been offered to Puccini who had a villa - Torre del Lago - on Lake Massaciuccoli]. But he was packed off to the theatrical stage and was a success there, thanks - apart from his own merits, which were not few - to Ruggero Ruggeri [a famous stage actor of the day]. After having approached both Umberto Giordano and Italo Montemezzi (if it is true what people say), he finally found in Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari a musician who opened his arms to him. He opened his arms to him and it was not a mistake. We can say this after the success of the score which has had quite a warm reception. And perhaps, now that the opera is written, some of those who thought about writing it without coming to a decision are saying in their heart of hearts, like Sly, "I reproach you for having come to me only now" But it is certain that in becoming involved with the drunken poet, Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari found more enjoyable those smiling and graceful aspects of the play about 'the sleeper awakened'. He did not suffer and live out, in the deepest sense, the painful drama of the love that falls headlong into tragedy. Giovacchino Forzano had made of his Sly a character more intelligent and less gullible than his namesake, who was introduced by Shakespeare in the Prologue to The Taming of the Shrew. The Shakespearean Sly, who also wakes up in the Count's house, quickly believes fully in the hoax that has been improvised around him and falls like a monkey into the trap that has been prepared, even though he introduces himself very wittily... "I am Christopher Sly; call not me honour nor lordship [...] Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor more shoes than feet: nay, sometimes more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather [...] What! would you make me mad? Am I not Christopher Sly, old Sly's son from Burtonheath, by birth, a pedlar, by education, a cardmaker, by transmutation, a bear-herd, and now by present profession, a tinker?" It is true that right after he accepts that he really is a lord, he immediately orders a mug of ale, almost as if to reconfirm his true nature as a common man and a drunkard. But then, when they tell him the tale of his long mental illness, he believes it right away. To his 'wife', who is actually a pageboy disguised as a woman, he confides... "Madam wife, they say I have dream'd and slept above some fifteen years or more." And when he wants to make up for lost time after his long abstinence [from sex] and is told that the doctors advise him to wait a few days in order to avoid the recurrence of his 'illness', he responds: "but I would be loathe to fall into my dreams again: I will therefore tarry, in despite of the flesh and the blood." We can say of Forzano's Sly, that he was never completely fooled, because he never showed that he mistook the hoax for all of reality. The low vulgarity of the Count of Westmoreland and his coterie of nobles in the surprise at the end of the second act takes him unawares and infuriates him. But not because he had believed that he had actually changed his circumstances by virtue of the lavish performance around him. In that moment, Sly is in the grip of an emotion that is neither false nor an illusion, neither in him nor in Dolly - love. In the end, it is Dolly's love which saves Sly from being ridiculous, to himself and to others, and which ultimately renders the joke futile. In the first scene of the second act, Sly passes through the adventures of the appropriately named "comedy of the sleeper awakened", distracted and daydreaming; without managing to explain to himself how this could have happened to him, but quite far from actually taking part in it as an active character in the comedy. Not even the proofs which he resorts to in order to convince himself that he is not dreaming - the splash of cold water, his hands sunk into the gold, the finger he asks the page to bite - convince him. He remains ever more surprised and astonished, but he is never completely ensnared. Forzano never compromises him, this character of his, neither by word nor by gesture; and in this he shows the skill of a psychologist. When Sly enters the ball room, with his lavish cortege, he seems like a sleepwalker, and when he is interrogated by the Count disguised as a clown, he responds as if he were 'absent' - the libretto actually says this. Everyone around him frantically plays out the farce, but Sly is truly moved only when he is shown a miniature portrait and sees the image of Dolly. In Gozzi's fable for Turandot, Calaf risked his head on the strength of a portrait, but Sly is not content with just the miniature (so little does he trust appearances), and after having seen it, he repeatedly and insistently asks to actually see the woman. When he finds himself in front of her, he immediately falls in love, not because she is dressed like a great lady and surrounded by a grand court, but because he recognizes in her the great dream of his imagination, the woman "who alone in all the world is buried in my soul, always dreamt of and always lost." For her part, Dolly is quickly inflamed by the same passion: "No longer covered in gold, but in happiness. I love you. I too languished, Sly, miserable and alone like you! Now your love has brought me to life." The trickster, the Count of Westmoreland, after being unable to fool Sly with the farce of the gold coins and the masks, ends up with his intended victim stealing his lover's heart. It is he, therefore, who becomes an object of ridicule, not Sly. It is said that when Puccini was thinking about setting this play to music, he proposed an ending like this: the arrival of Dolly in the third act in time to save Sly from death, the flight of the two lovers, and the consequent defeat of Westmoreland and his accomplices. This shows that Puccini looked beneath the surface and had understood very well what the true moral of the story was. A moral which does not change in substance, despite the fact that instead of the opera unfolding as a comedy, it unfolds as a tragedy. Because Dolly's love for the poet has revealed to her a new heaven as well as her hatred for the Count of Westmoreland, she is beside herself at Sly's death but not destroyed: "You are all cursed! Cursed!" screams the woman as she rips off her jewels. "Oh Sly, my Sly". This long discussion was necessary in order to explain my impression that a full and complete expressive intensity was missing in the music that Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari created for those scenes of the opera that revolve around the emotions of love and pain. This passion of Sly and Dolly that unexpectedly bursts into flames, despite its surroundings which are all frivolity and from the very beginning dedicated to a string of cruel jokes, required intonations that were stronger and more communicative, deeper and more moving. In other words, against the light background of jokes, passion - the key contrast - should have stood out more vividly. For, in the end, that is the reason behind the entire drama, and in the play represents the 'unexpected' which creates the interest and the theatrical force. However, the musician has not done this. Sly's [musical] language to Dolly, at first justly bewildered and uncertain, then becomes tender and affectionate, but it never enters deeply into the realm of emotion. After Dolly's first recitatives that accurately convey the idea of pretended feelings, after the words "What a piteous anguish invades me now", and the sudden outburst "I don't want to do this any more, I can't" her language to Sly lacks the abandon and wildness that should accompany a moment of such profound and unexpected emotional crisis. Dolly has changed from the Count's accomplice and Sly's tormentor into the Count's enemy and Sly's ally. What happens within her is a complete and radical reversal of her feelings. Moreover, a new emotion, until then completely unknown to her, suddenly and miraculously reveals itself. But not many signs of this revelation, of this devouring flame, appear in the rest of the music. In terms of both tone and level, the music remains more or less as it was before. Thus, in the third act, which has a rather delicate and beautiful page, the 'Lento' sung in C minor, the music, in terms of its intensity of expression, is not always on a par with the tragedy of the drama's events. With Dolly's appearance [in the wine cellar], the music - to be exact, the page in C minor that I just mentioned - has a sweet and elegiac quality, like a dream. And perhaps he wanted to express (and in this instance he expresses it very well) Sly's languor as he lies dying with his veins cut. A languor between dreaming and the moment of death which he awaits as a sweet liberation. However, at the beginning and the ending of this brief act, the music lacks a sense of that painful grandeur of love that culminates in tragedy. This, in a work of art that deserves to be taken seriously for its many positive qualities and for the intelligence of its author, is in my view, its weak side. Instead, in the comic parts, there is a complete sense of harmony and balance. In the first act, rich with action, the first pages of the score, so different from what one would expect in a tavern scene, already demonstrate Wolf-Ferrari's sense of moderation and aristocratic gesture that at no point in the score are ever betrayed. His varied modes of expression are so different from and so much better than those of so many other composers, who once they adopt a particular 'timbre' will never abandon it under any circumstances, not even under pain of death. The refinement and crystalline clarity of the discourse, the elegance that is never frivolous, the manner of presentation, a well nourished and cultivated humanism. Indeed, all of Wolf-Ferrari's musical mannerisms are also treasures of the greatest and rarest kind which must be recognized in the score - in every page of the score. In the first act, some of the humorous pieces are among the most beautiful ones in the act and in the whole opera. The attack on the hostess and her servants armed with kitchen skewers, the arrival of Dolly to the sound of a trumpet, the bear song, and the particularly subtle ending of the act, where the sudden change that takes place in the minds of Sly's drunken companions, at first inclined to see only the funny and almost enviable side of his adventure, then led by John Plake's example, moved to feel sorry for him, is miraculously rendered with just a few orchestral strokes. But the first scene of the second act is the jewel of the entire score. After the brief, and slightest brushstroke of an announcement: "He's waking up!" repeated from room to room by voices ever more distant, the whispering song which the servant girls, the page, and the musician sing while Sly is waking up expresses for the first time a motif that, varied and always with different orchestral instruments, will recur many times in the course of the scene, like a rhyme in a poem, giving it a great sense of unity and consummately expressing the idea that everything that happens in this scene is nothing but a variation on its single theme: "trickery" The orchestral intermezzo between the first and second scenes (accompanying the progress of Sly and the cortege from the bed chamber to the ball room) is also constructed on this motif and both the instrumentation and the joyous bells that accompany it are extremely effective, as is the entire scene, where everything is perfectly realized, and where every page of the score reflects the geniality and artistic refinement of its creator. The newspapers have written extensively about the success of Sly, which has also been due to Aureliano Pertile, a magnificent protagonist, and to Ettore Panizza who conducted excellently, very beautifully. The opera has the major pre-requisites to find broad favour with the public. It is easy to predict for it a happy journey. ORIGINAL ITALIAN VERSION:
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Translated By: Jean Peccei Date Modified: August 31, 2000 Copyright © 2000 JCarreras.com |
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