OPERA The Italian Opera Company of Chicago

Reflections on individual works of any great master inevitably lead us in many directions. Aside from being absorbed by the peculiar qualities of the piece in question, we cannot help but compare it to other works by the same artist, or to consider its unique position in the evolution of the creator's approach to his art. In the case of composers like Mozart and Donizetti, whose genius poured forth seemingly without effort, we quickly accept the proposition that one work naturally led to the next and, although we may be fascinated by the ideas in one work being revisited or further developed in another, we do not dwell too long on their sources of inspiration or try to analyze why or how they were able to accomplish what they did. But with composers like Beethoven and Verdi, who labored exhaustively in their pursuit of perfection, and who consciously strove to reshape the traditional boundaries of musical and dramatic form, we are curiously compelled to seek an understanding of how a particular work was conceived in the context of their philosophy. Often we are vexed by this exercise because the single piece we examine just doesn't seem to conform to our perception of the composer's espoused ideals. Such a work is Un ballo in maschera.

Make no mistake, Un ballo in maschera is about as "Verdian" an opera as there is and remains to this day as one of his most popular works. Its music is melodically delightful and flowingly lyrical while at the same time it is propelled by that muscular forward drive that characterizes all of Verdi's music. The principal characters of its tightly constructed and well-focused plot are fully developed and all suffer in some degree from that inner conflict that Verdi loved to exploit as a means to fulfill his musical aims. The supporting roles, the choruses and the contrasting settings of scenes were ideal for Verdi to achieve a full range of colorful operatic expression. But was Un ballo the kind of opera he really wanted to write? By 1857, he was well beyond his "galley years" when he was compelled to churn out one piece after another in his drive to become the undisputed king of opera. He was financially very well off by then, and his talent was in such demand that one would think that he could indulge himself in composing only what was most in tune with his most idealistic principles. Before we look at some of the things that Verdi actually accomplished in Un ballo, let us digress.

That Verdi single-handedly transformed Italian opera from what it was, when he wrote Oberto in 1839, to what it became at the premiere of Falstaff in 1893, is beyond question. There are many reasons for this, but more than anything else, it was probably his fascination with the dramatic element of opera that drove him to alter traditional concepts of aria form, recitative, the use of the chorus, orchestration and even the vocal line itself. In a way, the opera that idealized almost everything Verdi ever did that was new and exciting in his works, was one he never wrote -- Il Re Lear. Since Shakespeare was Verdi's prime model dramatist, and had the greatest influence on the composer's approach to dramatic structure, it is only natural that this work would attract him so strongly. At key points in career, setting this mighty tragedy to music beckoned him, possibly to the point of obsession, yet, for different reasons on different occasions, he never was able to see it through. In all he probably devoted more time to planning this project than he did with any of his completed works. Thus can we not safely infer that the ideas Verdi conceived for Lear somehow found their expression in his existing operas? The answer is not so simple, mainly because we have none of Verdi's musical sketches for the work -- they were destroyed in accordance with his will at the time of his death. But the evidence that we do have is very suggestive indeed.

As early as 1843 Verdi became interested in composing Lear. It was one of the subjects he considered for a commission for the Fenice in Venice. But since this theater could not supply the kind of dramatic bass-baritone needed for the title role, he wrote Ernani instead. In 1846, Verdi was more determined to produce a Lear, this time for London, who could offer him perhaps the greatest bass of the nineteenth century, Luigi Lablache. But then the composer was stricken by nervous exhaustion for six months. When he recovered, it was not Lear he wrote, but I masnadieri. Three years and three operas later, Verdi actually drew up a synopsis of Lear and sent it to Salvatore Cammarano. In correspondence with this excellent librettist he declared, "After all, we must not make King Lear into the usual kind of opera. We can treat it in a completely new manner, on a large scale, without regard to conventions of any kind." This is a most telling statement, for we can find this same idea expressed innumerable times in Verdi's correspondence regarding many of his operas. But Verdi's next opera was Stiffelio, which was followed by the three masterpieces, Rigoletto, Il trovatore and La traviata. Now none of these works may be "the usual kind of opera", but they were hardly conceived "without regard for conventions of any kind".

Almost immediately after La traviata's ultimate triumph in 1853, Verdi turned his full attention once more to Lear. For two years, Verdi worked closely with poet Antonio Somma until a complete libretto for the work was finished. In the meantime, Verdi became engrossed in the Parisian commission for Les V�pres siciliennes. When this project was threatened by the disappearance of the prima donna, Verdi came close to producing Lear for Genoa, but the soprano's sudden reappearance scotched this idea. In 1857, Verdi began negotiating with the San Carlo in Naples for a new opera, which was supposed to be King Lear, but when he could not secure the services of soprano Maria Piccolomini for Cordelia, the project was postponed once again. The opera that he ultimately wrote for Naples (after writing Simon Boccanegra for Venice) was Un ballo in maschera.

From this point on, although the subject of Lear surfaced occasionally (even after Falstaff!), Verdi never seriously considered producing this opera again. It was with probably another Shakespearean opera, Otello, in which the composer came closest to fulfilling his dreams of Lear. Why Verdi actually never composed the revolutionary opera that Lear was conceived to be, we cannot say for sure, although an entire book could be written on the subject. None of the above mentioned operas, from Ernani to Un ballo, really stray that far from the bel canto tradition (save Boccanegra). But, at the same time, these operas are still much different than anyone else's. Perhaps, after all, it really was the ever-present spiritual ideal of Lear that gave Verdi's works their very special uniqueness.

Un ballo in maschera, which as we said, came about in place of Lear, is about as far removed from that tragedy as one can imagine. But if Verdi's preoccupation with Lear was subtly and steadily influencing his dramatic theory of opera, then that influence was surely felt in Un ballo because, both musically and dramatically, this opera has striking similarities with his greatest works. The prelude to Un ballo is dominated by two themes, which will be heard again and again throughout the opera: Riccardo's "La rivedra nell'estasi" and the staccato motif of the conspirators. The first bears an uncanny resemblance (with virtually the same harmonic rhythm) to the love theme from Traviata. The second is of stark contrast to the first, and played against it the same way that the priests' theme is played against the love theme in the prelude of Aida. The lyrical scoring of Renato's baritone role, with its emphasis on the upper register is similar to that of de Luna in Trovatore and Germont in Traviata. Ulrica, the fortune-teller, is a strong mezzo role in the style of Azucena. The role of Amelia is written for almost the same kind of soprano as Leonore. In fact, her "Ma dall'arido stelo divulsa" from Act II is very much like the Trovatore heroine's "Taccea la notte placida" in its dark, simple elegance. The first part of Act II is structured, with soprano aria, followed by soprano-tenor duet and then soprano-tenor-baritone trio, very much like the vocal lineup in Act III of Aida. The opening chorus of the finale is almost an extended development of the carnival music from Traviata.

With its story of conflict within a court and in other ways, the music and drama of Un ballo reminds us of Rigoletto. Although of a much more temperate nature than the Duke of Mantua, Riccardo has some of the same attributes. He loves without concern for the consequences in much of the opera. Like the Duke, he has a devil-may-care attitude towards his situation, and his lilting sea chanty, "Di' tu se fedele" is clearly reminiscent, of "Questa o quella". He also follows Amelia without her knowledge, and, like the Duke with Gilda, bursts upon the scene unexpectedly when Amelia is in the midst of very private thoughts. When Amelia is unveiled before Renato and the conspirators, the music that follows is characterized by the laughter of the plotters. Verdi has expressed laughter musically the same way in Rigoletto. The ball scene of Ballo's finale, with its intermittent dialog and classical minuet, immediately brings to mind the first scene of the earlier opera.

There is one very remarkable musical device in the finale of Un ballo that is worth commenting on, and that shows how concerned Verdi was for dramatic realism in a way that is unsurpassed in his other operas. In the music that precedes Riccardo's assassination, the aristocratic minuet is carried by a graceful solo violin. After the stabbing, and the initial reactions of the shocked partyers, we would expect some other kind of appropriately ominous music to portray the newly tragic mood. But this does not happen! Instead, the tragedy of the situation is intensified when the violin, as if oblivious to what has occurred, keeps wistfully playing the same gentle tune for another refrain. As Riccardo slips towards death, finally the violin trails off in mid-phrase. The first time I heard this opera, I was very surprised. But then it dawned on me that in a real life situation like this, the musicians, absorbed in their job, would of course be the last to realize what happened. Just another small but significant touch that makes Un ballo in maschera such an effective, memorable and typically Verdian opera.

Realistic touches or not, however, Un ballo in maschera is far more conventional than the Lear Verdi wanted to compose in 1857.