La Traviata
is, above all, a very 'proper' opera by conservative bourgeoisie standards,
even though it's central subject was still seen at the time of the premiere in
1853, as quite provocative: the tragedy of "the Fallen Woman,” which is
the literal meaning of "la Traviata.”
The central plot of most
human drama concerns mate selection: a happy match results in the comedy of
celebration, an impediment results in the tragic death of one or both of the
hopeful pair, or at least their permanent estrangement because of the
impediment. The impediment here, is already present in the very title.
We have the urban
middle-class version of the untouchable woman, who drags into disgrace whoever
touches her, according to the misogynic slant of those mores. The worst
real-life nightmare of any proper father with bourgeois pretensions was that
his son could get mixed up in any way with such a person.
Going into the theatre at
the premiere, everyone had the needed information to infer the plot of this
opera.
The simplicity of the
dramatic situation draws into question and isolates the whole impediment of
'social propriety' a question that could be raised, especially then, only by
begging it without spelling it out. In Hernani,
Verdi has his characters convoluting the plot into pretzels over the concept of
'honour', which is meant to expose it's absurdity. La Traviata is, above all, about the emotional costs of
maintaining the bourgeois status-quo.
La Traviata
is the most realistic and natural of all of Verdi's operas. He seems to be
trying out 'Verismo' values, which were not to become a movement until the next
generation of composers like Puccini and Mascagni: real people in real
situations. Verdi in fact suspends his entire usual arsenal of opera-dramatic
conventions: no curses, no revenges, poisons, lese-majeste, or blood-oaths.
None of Verdi's other operas have such an even temper, and although there are a
few public confrontations, Alfredo just throws his gambling winnings at
Violetta to humiliate her, the worst thing that happens is the death, by
natural causes, of the protagonist. This throws into highest relief the
emotional, class, and family values that are dramatically brought to bear on
this situation. It takes no flights of fancy to commiserate with the very real
conflicts that the characters are living through.
Almost nothing really
happens in the plot. Violetta is a professional courtesan on the
contemporaneous Paris social scene. Alfredo Germont and she genuinely, to
judge from the music, fall in love. They live together, taking her out of
circulation and constraining them financially. Enter Germont the father who
convinces Violetta to cut off the relationship with his son, because of
the social consequences not only on the lovers, now ejected from polite society,
but on Alfredo's sister's prospects of courtship, thus on the middle-class
fortunes of Alfredo's whole family. This is one of Verdi's most convincing
confrontations. The sense of the opera depends on it, and the situation is
completely plausible in it's hopelessness.
Violetta breaks off with
Alfredo; later, they have a public tiff.
Later still, Alfredo
visits Violetta dying of the consumption she has been suffering from all along.
He has found out she has rejected him only because of his father's demands, and
reconciles with her only to witness her death.
Although La Traviata is almost unique amongst Verdi's
operas dramaturgically, its music somehow seems more Verdian than ever. In the
ethereal prelude, so close, and yet so far, from the Wagner Lohengrin strains
that were amazing the opera world at that time, we catch our breath at the
sustained rapture suggested by the string harmonies. This is meant to elicit
Violetta's fragile beauty and strained, hovering tragedy at the same time. It
finally makes sense when we reach the fatal bedroom scene at the end. There is
even something for the hit-parade fans with the famous ‘bridisi' drinking song,
and the love scenes. But at the core of the musical setting is the long
development between Violetta and old Germont: Verdi's home territory is
depicting confrontations between plaintiff sopranos and insistent baritones.
Giuseppe Verdi |
This opera was a disaster
when it opened in Venice, one of Verdi's rare notable flops, but it was
recognized as little as a year later at the second production. It may have been
the fault of the singers engaged. It seems the original Violetta was too old
and frumpy to make the part believable, and the Baritone had problems, but the
provocative subject matter may have contributed to the original audience's
reluctance. It had not even been possible at first to stage the opera in a
contemporaneous setting. It boggles the mind that the censors, who were for
once happy not to have to deal with the usual political 'gaffes' they were used
to curtailing in Verdi, still insisted that the time of the action be set in
the early 17th Century—away from the present.
We now revel in this work a
one of Verdi's serenest and most personal works. The demands of love and family
and society, especially when in conflict, always bring out the best in Verdi,
but since here all is set in the natural landscape of diurnal normal life, the
drama seems more civilized and conventional than is usual with Verdi who is
usually so prone to take things over-the-top. Here he proves that none of that
is really necessary as long as the central human values ate at the centre of
the action.
Michael Doleschell keeps mostly to non-fiction, and is
deeply devoted to music and culture and never tires of history, and is
fascinated by science and the scientific method [as long as they are well
explained]. He broadcasts a program of Classical Music for 3 hours every
Saturday afternoon from noon till 3 on the U of G's Radio Station: CFRU.
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