Pagliacci Synopsis - Leoncavallo's Famous Opera Pagliacci Synopsis Pagliacci Synopsis The Story of Leoncavallo's Famous Opera 1936: Steffi Duna (1913 - 1992) with Esmond Knight (1906 - 1987) in a scene from the film 'Pagliacci', a screen version of Leoncavallo's opera. Titled ‘A Clown Must Laugh' in the US, the film was directed by Karl Grune for Trafalgar Film Productions. Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images Premiered: May 21, 1892 - Teatro Dal Verme, Milan Other Popular Opera Synopses: Leoncavallo's Pagliacci takes place in Calabria, Italy during the 1860s. The Story of Pagliacci Pagliacci, Prologue As the curtain rises, two mimes (Comedy and Tragedy) open a large trunk. Out of the trunk comes Tonio, the fool, dressed as Taddeo from the play, Commedia.

Tonio addresses the audience to be mindful of the humanity of clowns, for they too, are real people who experience joy and sorrow. Pagliacci, ACT 1 Under the bright noon sun, an acting troupe arrives in a small town in Calabria. The villagers eagerly await for the actors to exit their carriages and cheer at the first signs of movement. Canio, along with his wife Nedda, and two other actors, Beppe and Tonio, finally exit their carts and greet the crowds. continue reading below our video Highest Paid Female Actors Ever Canio, head of the troupe, invites everyone to that night's show. In return, he and the cast are invited to the tavern for a few drinks. Canio and Beppe accept, but Tonio and Nedda decline. One of the villagers makes a joke that Tonio is only staying behind to seduce Nedda. All of a sudden, Canio becomes very serious and rebukes him. While his character, Pagliacci, in the play may act foolish, in real life, Canio is no fool. He will not stand idle while other men make passes at his wife.

After the moment of tension passes, Canio and Beppe head to the tavern with the villagers. Nedda, wiping sweat from her brow, is alone and overwhelmed with concern that her husband will find out about her unfaithfulness. She has been having a secret affair for quite some time now. Her nerves are calmed by the sounds of a lovely song bird. She eventually joins the bird in song and and sings about her freedom. Taking notice of her solitude carefree spirit, Tonio takes the opportunity to confess his love for her. Thinking he is in character, she happily plays along until she realizes he is serious. Denying his advances, she picks up a nearby bullwhip and frightens him away. Moments later, her lover, Silvio arrives from the tavern where he left Canio and Beppe, who were still drinking. Silvio begs for her to elope with him after the night's performance. At first, Nedda refuses. But when, Silvio gets angry, she finally agrees to run away with him. Tonio, who has been eavesdropping the entire time, runs to the tavern to get Canio.

When they return, Canio hears Nedda singing about her elopement and he chases her lover away. Canio, unable to see the man's face, demands to know the name of her lover, but Nedda refuses. He threatens her with a nearby dagger, but Beppe talks him out of it and suggests they get ready for the performance. Tonio tells Canio not to worry, for surely, her lover will be at the play. Canio, now alone, sings the opera's most famous aria, the melancholy "Vesti la giubba" (Put on your costume) - Watch a youtube video of Vesti la giubba . Pagliacci, ACT 2 Before the start of the play, Nedda dressed as her character, Colombina, takes money from the ticket buyers. The fervent crowd impatiently waits for the play to begin. The play nearly mirrors the real lives of the characters: Colombina's husband, Pagliacci, is away. Underneath her window, her lover Arlechino (played by Beppe) serenades her. During his song, Taddeo returns from the market and confesses his love to her.

She laughs as she helps Arlechino in through the window. Arlechino shoos him away as the crowd laughs. Arlechino gives her a sleeping potion. He tells her to give it to Pagliacci that night so she can run away with him and elope. She happily agrees. They are interrupted by Taddeo when he bursts into the room warning them that Pagliacci has become suspicious, and is about to return. Arlechino makes his escape out the window when Pagliacci enters the room. When Colombina delivers the same line Canio heard her say in real life hours before the play, he is reminded of the pain she has caused him and he demands to know the name of her lover. As to not break character and bring Canio back into the play, Colombina calls him refers to his stage name, Pagliacci. He answers that the white paint on his face is in fact not makeup, but is colorless because of the pain and shame she has brought to him. The crowd, moved by his life-like emotions, bursts into applause.

Nedda tries again to bring him back into character, and confesses that she has been visited by Arlechino, a very nice young man. Canio, unable to return to the play, demands to know the name of her lover yet again. Finally, Nedda breaks character by swearing to never say her lover's name. The audience is now aware that the events taking place before them are, in fact, real, and Silvio pushes his way to the stage. Canio, driven mad by her adultery, stabs Nedda with a nearby knife. As she dies, she calls out to Silvio for help. The moment he steps onto the stage, Canio stabs him too. As they lay lifeless on the stage floor, Canio delivers one of opera's most chilling lines, "The comedy is over." I Pagliacci (Leoncavallo) - Synopsis I Pagliacci - (English title: The Clowns) An Opera by Ruggiero Leoncavallo Opera in two acts, wordd and music by Ruggiero Leoncavallo. Produced, Teatro dal Verme, Milan, May 17, 1892.

Grand Opera House, New York, June 15, 1893, under the direction of Gustav Hinrichs, with Selma Kronold (Nedda), Montegriffo (Canio), and Campanari (Tonio). Metropolitan Opera House, December 11, 1893, with Melba as Nedda, De Lucia as Canio, and Ancona as Tonio. CHARACTERS CANIO (in the play Pagliaccio), head of a troupe of strolling players Tenor NEDDA (in the play Columbine), wife of Canio .. Soprano TONIO (in the play Taddeo, a clown) . Baritone BEPPE (in the play Harlequin) .. Tenor SILVIO, a villager . Baritone Place: Montalto, in Calabria. Time: The Feast of the Assumption, about 1865-70. "Pagliacci" opens with a prologue. There is an instrumental introduction. Then Tonio pokes his head through the curtains, -- "Si puo?

Signore e Signori" (By your leave, Ladies and Gentlemen), -- comes out, and sings. The prologue rehearses, or at least hints at, the story of the opera, and does so in musical phrases, which we shall hear again as the work progresses -- the bustle of the players as they make ready for the performance; Canios lament that he must be merry before his audiences, though his heart be breaking; part of the lovemaking music between Nedda and Silvio; and the theme of the intermezzo, to the broad measures of which Tonio sings, "Evo piuttosto che le nostre povere gabbane" (Ah, think then, sweet people, when you behold us clad in our motley). The prologue, in spite of ancient prototypes, was a bold stroke on the part of Leoncavallo, and, as the result proved, a successful one. Besides its effectiveness in the opera, it has made a good concert number. Moreover, it is quite unlikely that without it Maurel would have offered to play Tonio at the production of the work in Milan. Act I. The edge of the village of Montalto, Calabria.

People are celebrating the Feast of the Assumption. In the background is the tent of the strolling players. These players, Canio, Nedda, Tonio, and Beppe, in the costume of their characters in the play they are to enact, are parading through the village. The opening chorus, "Son qua" (Theyre here), proclaims the innocent joy with which the village hails the arrival of the players. The beating of a drum, the blare of a trumpet are heard. The players, having finished their parade through the village, are returning to their tent. Beppe, in his Harlequin costume, enters leading a donkey drawing a gaudily painted cart, in which Nedda is reclining. Behind her, in his Pagliaccio costume, is Canio, beating the big drum and blowing the trumpet. Tonio, dressed as Taddeo, the clown, brings up her rear. The scene is full of life and gayety. Men, women, and boys, singing sometimes in separate groups, sometimes together, form the chorus.

The rising inflection in their oft-repeated greeting to Canio as "il principe se dei Pagliacci" (the prince of Pagliaccios), adds materially to the lilt of joy in their greeting to the players whose coming performance they evidently regard as the climax to the festival. Canio addresses the crowd. At seven oclock the play will begin. They will witness the troubles of poor Pagliaccio, and the vengeance he wreaked on the Clown, a treacherous fellow. 'Twill be a strange combination of love and of hate. Again the crowd acclaims its joy at the prospect of seeing the players on the stage behind the flaps of the tent. Tonio comes forward to help Nedda out of the cart. Canio boxes his ears, and lifts Nedda down himself. Tonio, jeered at by the women and boys, angrily shakes his fists at the youngsters, and goes off muttering that Canio will have to pay high for what he has done. Beppe leads off the donkey with the cart, comes back, and throws down his whip in front of the tent. A villager asks Canio to drink at the tavern. Beppe joins them.

Canio calls to Tonio. Is he coming with them? Tonio replies that he must stay behind to groom the donkey. A villager suggests that Tonio is remaining in order to make love to Nedda. Canio takes the intended humour of this sally rather grimly. He says that in the play, when he interferes with Tonios lovemaking, he lays himself open to a beating. But in real life -- let any one, who would try to rob him of Neddas love, beware. The emphasis with which he speaks causes comment. "What can he mean?" asks Nedda in an aside. "Surely you dont suspect her?" question the villagers of Canio. Of course not, protests, Canio, and kisses Nedda on the forehead. Just then the bagpipers from a neighbouring village are heard approaching. The musicians, followed by the people of their village, arrive to join in the festival. All are made welcome, and the villagers, save a few who are waiting for Canio and Beppe, go off down the road toward the village. The church bells ring.

The villagers sing the pretty chorus, "Din, don -- suona vespero" (Ding, dong -- the vespers bell). Canio nods good-bye to Nedda. He and Beppe go toward the village. Nedda is alone. Canios words and manner worry her. "How fierce he looked and watched me! -- Heavens, if he should suspect me!" But the birds are singing, the birds, whose voices her mother understood. Her thoughts go back to her childhood. She sings, "Oh! Che volo dangelli" (Ah, ye beautiful song-birds), which leads up to her vivacious ballatella, "Stridono lassu, liberamente" (Forever flying through the boundless sky). Tonio comes on from behind the theatre. He makes violent love to Nedda. The more passionately the clown pleads, the more she mocks him, and the more angry he grows. He seeks forcibly to grasp and kiss her. She backs away from him. Spying the whip where Beppe threw it down, she seizes it, and with its strikes Tonio across the face.

Infuriated, he threatens, as he leaves her, that he will yet be avenged on her. A man leans over the wall. He calls in a low voice, "Nedda!" "Silvio!" she cries. "At this hour. . . what madness!" He assures her that it is safe for them to meet. He has just left Canio drinking at the tavern. She cautions him that, if he had been a few moment earlier, his presence would have been discovered by Tonio. He laughs at the suggestion of danger from a clown. Silvio has come to secure the promise of the woman he loves, and who has pledged her love to him, that she will run away with him from her husband after the performance that night. She does not consent at once, not because of any moral scruples, but because she is afraid. After a little persuasion, however, she yields. The scene reaches its climax in an impassioned love duet, "E allor perchè, di, tu mai stregato" (Why hast thou taught me Loves magic story). The lovers prepare to separate, but agree not to do so until after the play, when they are to meet and elope.

The jealous and vengeful Tonio has overheard them, and has run to the tavern to bring back Canio. He comes just in time to hear Nedda call after Silvio, who has climbed the wall, "Tonight, love, and forever I am thine." Canio, with drawn dagger, makes a rush to overtake and stay the man, who was with his wife. Nedda places herself between him and the wall, but he thrusts her violently aside, leaps the wall, and starts in pursuit. "May Heaven protect him now," prays Nedda for her lover, while Tonio chuckles. The fugitive has been too swift for Canio. The latter returns. "His name!" he demands of Nedda, for he does not know who her lover is. Nedda refuses to give it. Silvio is safe! What matter what happens to her. Canio rushes at her to kill her. Tonio and Beppe restrain him. Tonio whispers to him to wait. Neddas lover surely will be at the play. A look, or gesture from her will betray him. Then Canio can wreak vengeance. Canio thinks well of Tonios ruse.

Nedda escapes into the theatre. It is time to prepare for the performance. Beppe and Tonio retire to do so. Canios grief over his betrayal by Nedda finds expression in one of the most famous numbers in modern Italian opera, "Vesti la giubba" (Now don the motley), with its tragic "Ridi Pagliaccio" (Laugh thou, Pagliaccio), as Canio goes toward the tent, and enters it. It is the old and ever effective story of the buffoon who must laugh, and make others laugh, while his heart is breaking. Act II. The scene is the same as that of the preceding act. Tonio with the big drum takes his position at the left angle of the theatre. Beppe places benches for the spectators, who begin to assemble, while Tonio beats the drum. Silvio arrives and nods to friends. Nedda, dressed as Columbine, goes about with a plate and collects money. As she approaches Silvio, she pauses to speak a few words of warning to him, then goes on, and re-enters the theatre with Beppe. The brisk chorus becomes more insistent that the play begin.

Most of the women are seated. Others stand with the men on slightly rising ground. A bell rings loudly. The curtain of the tent theatre on the stage rises. The mimic scene represents a small room with two side doors and a practicable windows at the back. Nedda, as Columbine, is walking about expectantly and anxiously. Her husband, Pagliaccio, has gone away till morning. Taddeo is at the market. She awaits her lover, Arlecchino (Harlequin). A dainty minuet forms the musical background. A guitar is heard outside. Columbine runs to the window with signs of love and impatience. Harlequin, outside, sings his pretty serenade to his Columbine, "O Colombina, il tenero" (O Columbine, unbar to me thy lattice high). The ditty over, she returns to the front of the mimic stage, seats herself, back the door, through which Tonio, as Taddeo, a basket on his arm, now enters. He makes exaggerated love to Columbine, who disgusted with his advances, goes to the window, opens it, and signals. Beppe as Harlequin, enters by the window.

He makes light of Taddeo, whom he takes by the ear and turns out of the room, to the accompaniment of a few kicks. All the while the minuet has tripped its pretty measure and the mimic audience has found plenty to amuse it. Harlequin has brought a bottle of wine, also a phial with a sleeping potion, which she is to give her husband, when opportunity offers, so that, while he sleeps, she and Harlequin may fly together. Love appears to prosper, till, suddenly, Taddeo bursts in. Columbines husband, Pagliaccio, is approaching. He suspects her, and is stamping with anger. "Pour the philtre in his wine, love!" admonishes Harlequin, and hurriedly gets out through the window. Columbine calls after him, just as Canio, in the character of Pagliaccio, appears in the door, "Tonight, love, and forever, I am thine!" -- the same words Canio heard his wife call after her lover a few hours before. Columbine parries Pagliaccios questions. He has returned too early. He has been drinking.

No one was with her, save harmless Taddeo, who has become alarmed and has sought safety in the closet. From within, Taddeo expostulates with Pagliaccio. His wife is true, her pious lips would neer deceive her husband. The audience laughs. But now it no longer is Pagliaccio, it is Canio, who calls out threateningly, not to Columbine, but to Nedda, "His name!" "Pagliaccio! Pagliaccio!" protests Nedda, still trying to keep in the play. "No!" cries out her husband-in a passage dramatically almost as effective as "Ridi Pagliaccio!" -- "I am Pagliaccio no more! I am a man again, with anguish deep and human!" The audience thinks his intensity is wonderful acting  all save Silvio, who shows signs of anxiety. "Thou hadst my love," concludes Canio, "but now thou hast my hate and scorn." "If you doubt me," argues Nedda, "why not let me leave you?" "And go to your lover! -- His name!

Declare it!" Still desperately striving to keep in the play, and avert the inevitable, Nedda, as if she were Columbine, sings a chic gavotte, "Survvia, cosi terrible" (I never knew, my dear, that you were such a tragic fellow). She ends with a laugh, but stops short, at the fury in Canios look, as he takes a knife from the table. "His name!" "No!"  Save her lover she will, at whatever cost to herself. The audience is beginning to suspect that this is no longer acting. The women draw back frightened, overturning the benches. Silvio is trying to push his way through to the stage. Nedda makes a dash to escape into the audience. Canio pursues and catches up with her. "Take that-and-that!" (He stabs her in the back). "Di morte negli spasimi lo dirai" (In the last death agony, thoult call his name). "Soccorso... Silvio!" (Help! Help! -- Silvio!) A voice from the audience cries, "Nedda!" A man has nearly reached the spot where she lies dead.

Canio turns savagely, leaps at him. A steel blade flashes. Silvio falls dead beside Nedda. Gesumaria!" shriek the women; "Ridi Pagliaccio!" sob the instruments of the orchestra. Canio stands stupefied. The knife falls from his hand: "La commedia e finita" (The comedy is ended). There are plays and stories in which, as in "Pagliacci," the drama on a mimic stage suddenly becomes real life, so that they tragedy of the play changes to the life-tragedy of one or more of the characters. "Yoricks Love," in which I saw Lawrence Barrett act, and of which I wrote a review for Harpers Weekly, was adapted by William D. Howells from "Drama Nuevo" by Estebanez, which is at least fifty years older than "Pagliacci." In it the actor Yorick really murders the actor, whom in character, he is supposed to kill in the play. In the plot, as in real life, this actor had won away the love of Yoricks wife, before whose eyes he is slain by the wronged husband.

About 1883, I should say, I wrote a story, "A Performance of Othello," for a periodical published by students of Columbia University, in which the player of Othello, impelled by jealousy, actually kills his wife, who is the Desdemona, and then, as in the play, slays himself. Yet, although the motif is an old one, this did not prevent Catulle Mendès, who himself had been charged with plagiarizing, in "La Femme de Tabarin," Paul Ferrières earlier play, "Tabarin," from accusing Leoncavallo of plagiarizing "Pagliacci" from "La Femme de tabarin," and from instituting legal proceedings to enjoin the performance of the opera in Brussels. There upon Leoncavallo, in a letter to his publisher, stated that during his childhood at Montalta a jealous player killed his wife after a performance, that his father was the judge at the criminals trial -- circumstances which so impressed the occurrence on his mind that he was led to adapt the episode for his opera. Catulle Mendès accepted the explanation and withdrew his suit.

There has been some discussion regarding the correct translation of "Pagliacci." It is best rendered as "Clowns, although it only is necessary to read in Italian cyclopedias the definition of Pagliaccio to appreciate Philip Hales caution that the character is not a clown in the restricted circus sense. Originally the word, which is the same as the French paillasse, signified a bed of straw, then was extended to include an upholstered under-mattress, and finally was applied to the buffoon in the old Italian comedy, whose costume generally was striped like the ticking or stuff, of which the covering of a mattress is made. The play on the mimic stage in "Pagliacci" is, in fact, one of the Harlequin comedies that has been acted for centuries by strolling players in Italy. But for the tragedy that intervenes in the opera Pagliaccios ruse in returning before he was expected, in order to surprise his wife, Columbina, with Arlecchino, would have been punished by his being buffeted about the room and ejected.

For "the reward of Pagliaccios most adroit stratagems is to be boxed on the ears and kicked." Hence the poignancy of "Ridi Pagliaccio!" Search this Site Opera Pagliacci (The Clowns) by Leoncavallo Leoncavallo Claimed that Pagliacci was Based on a Real-Life Tragedy Clowns in Pagliacci by Leoncavallo Ruggero Leoncavallo’s father, Vincenzo Leoncavallo, was a magistrate (a lawyer and judge). In 1865, the elder Leoncavallo tried 2 men, Luigi and Giovanni D’Alessandro. The court proceedings took place at Montalto in Calabria. The D’Alessandro brothers were convicted of murdering Gaetano Scavello. For the young Leoncavallo this case was extremely memorable. The 22 year old murder victim, Gaetano Scavello, was a family friend. Scavello frequently stepped in as a nanny for the young Ruggero Leoncavallo. Gaetano Scavello, Leoncavallo’s baby-sitter, was murdered by the D’Alessandro brothers.

The murder weapon was a knife, which was used to stab the victim in the arm and stomach. The motive for murder was jealousy. Transcripts of the actual proceedings reprinted by Luisa Longobucco (2003) seem to suggest that both Luigi D’Alessandro and Gaetano Scavello were romancing the same woman. Did Leoncavallo Base the Opera Pagliacci on a Personal Experience? In the opera Pagliacci, there is a love-triangle: Canio – Nedda – Silvio. The love-triangle mirrors the young Leoncavallo’s experience: Luigi – young woman – Gaetano. In the opera, Canio and Nedda are husband and wife and Nedda and Silvio are carrying on a romance behind the husband’s back. Canio (the husband portraying a clown) kills Silvio (the lover) in a fit of jealousy. As in the real-life episode, a knife is the murder weapon.

Critics Claimed that Leoncavallo Stole the Clown Plot from Estebanez Drama Nuevo by Estebanez Joaquin Estebanez was the pen name of Spanish playwright Manuel Tamayo y Baus (1829 – 1898). In 1867, the play Un Drama Nuevo was produced in Madrid. It was an extremely popular drama not only in production, but also as a published work. Two young actors, Alice and Edmund, are in love. Due to life circumstances, the young woman marries an older benefactor, Yorick. As the drama begins, the actors are to rehearse a new play («drama nuevo»). The young woman's husband is to play the role of a man, whose wife has been unfaithful to him. In rehearsal, however, he has difficulty portraying his character. Another actor, Walton, who had initially wanted the jealous husband's role, discovers the young people's secret and decides to tell all to the husband. As the husband comes to believe that his real-life wife is unfaithful to him, his acting of the cuckolded husband improves.

In the drama's final act, all the characters portray roles as actors on stage, where their stage characters mimic their real life circumstances. In the final scene, the husband (Yorick, playing the role of the Count) kills the young man (Edmund, playing the role of Manfredo) on stage. Did Leoncavallo Steal the Clown Plot for Pagliacci from Estebanez? Both the opera Pagliacci and the play Un Drama Nuevo have a final scene of a play within a play. The actors portray characters that mirror their real-life circumstances. In both works, the line between acting and real-life is blurred as the husband murders the suspected lover while his wife watches. In both, the deliberate actions of someone consumed by jealousy drive the tragic ending. Mendes Claimed that Leoncavallo Stole the Clown Plot from Him The Clown Tabarin Catulle Mendes (1841 – 1909) was a French poet and playwright. In 1887, Mendes’ French language play, La Femme de Tabarin, premiered in Paris. Plans were underway to produce the opera Pagliacci in the French language in Brussels.

Before production began, Mendes filed a lawsuit in a Brussel’s court against Leoncavallo and his publisher. In the lawsuit, Mendes claimed that Leoncavallo had plagiarized the libretto of the opera. According to Gerda Baumbach in her book Theaterkunst and Heilkunst (2001), the name «Tabarin» was extremely popular in Paris during the 19th century. Baumbach claims that Tabarin lived in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. He might have been a Venetian who settled in Paris where he became quite famous. Dressed in a clown costume, Tabarin entertained the Parisian crowds on an outdoor stage. In 1858, two separate editions of Oeuvres complètes de Tabarin (The Complete Works of Tabarin) were published and included writings, jokes, anecdotes, dialogues and antics attributed to the real Tabarin. In the opening scene of the play La Femme de Tabarin, Tabarin, an actor, enters drunk. His wife, Francisquine, shows disdain as her husband professes his love for her.

In Scene 2, a group of French literary and Greek mythology characters discuss Tabarin and the upcoming street play. In the final scene, Tabarin addresses the gathered crowd and reveals how much he loves his wife. During his speech, Tabarin raises the stage curtain and exposes his wife in the arms of a soldier. Distraught, Tabarin asks for and is provided with a sword by a member of the audience. Tabarin kills his wife, Francisquine. The wife stagers onto the stage and smears her husband's lips with her blood. The audience believes the entire episode is a play until a member of the audience presents Fancisquine with a bouquet of flowers. Everyone, finally, realises that she is indeed dead. Did Leoncavallo Steal the Clown Plot for Pagliacci from Mendes? In the opera Pagliacci, an actor-clown kills his wife while performing before a crowd of people. The motive is the wife's infidelity. In both Leoncavallo's Pagliacci and Mendes' La femme de Tabarin, the audience is initially unaware that a blending of acting and real-life drama is unfolding before them.

Critics Claimed that Mendes Stole the Clown Plot from Ferrier’s Tabarin Tabarin by Ferrier Paul Ferrier (1843 – 1928) was a French playwright. Ferrier’s drama Tabarin was produced in Paris in 1874 and published the following year (1987). The play Tabarin revolves around the lives of a group of street actors. Tabarin and his wife, Francisquine, are having marital problems. She blames his drinking. He claims she has lovers. Mondor, a fellow actor, tells Tabarin that, after 20 years of work, he has developed a love potion. Tabarin scoffs at the idea of love potions. Alone on stage, Tabarin bemoans his fate because Francisquine doesn't love him any more. Je fais rire – c’est là mon rôle sur la terre! I laugh – in this life, that is my role!

Je fais rire les gens: or, rire est salutaire, I make people laugh: for, laughter is healthy, Et le peuple, prenant plaisir à ma chanson, And, the people take pleasure in my songs, Je me dis bien faiteur du peuple… à ma façon! I benefit people… in my own way! Sceptically, Tabarin drinks the love potion left behind on the table. The play begins. The actors take on their characters’ roles and a meshing of real-life and stage-lives occurs. Gauthier (Capitaine Rodomont) pleads with Francisquine (Isabella) to flee with him. Tabarin (as himself) realises that the two are not acting and becomes distraught. He tells the audience that the play is over, but they only laugh harder. Mondor comments that the audience is barbaric. Tabarin replies: Eh! Non! c’est l’heure Du spectacle! - Oh no! It is time for the play! et la lâche est moi seul! and the fool (clown) is me! moi qui pleure! me, who cries! Tabarin tries to laugh, but ends up sobbing.

In the end, Francisquine, the dutiful wife, decides to return. Tabarin proclaims that, because of the love potion, all ends well. Nicaise brings in bottles of the elixir. The actors sell the love potion to the audience. Are there Similarities Between Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci and Ferrier’s Clown Tabarin? The most famous song in the opera Pagliacci is “Vesti la giubba”. In the aria, Canio discusses the role of an actor-clown, whose job is to make the audience laugh, even if inside he is crying. There are obvious parallels between this and Tabarin’s soliloquy. Additionally, there is a play within a play, where we see a blending of acting and real-life scenarios and an audience that is unaware of the undercurrents in the actors’ real lives. Did Leoncavallo Know About Pessard’s Opera About A Clown? French Opera Composer Émile Pessard Émile Louis Fortuné Pessard (1843 – 1917) was a French composer, critic and professor.

Between 1885 and 1903, Pessard composed an opera every 2 years. All of these operas premiered in Paris. Paul Ferrier (1843 – 1928) collaborated on a number of operas and operettas with various composers of his time. Émile Pessard composed the music to Ferrier’s Tabarin. As with all of Émile Pessard’s operas, Tabarin is no longer part of the repertoire of opera houses today. From the information currently available, it appears to have never been performed after its premiere at the Théâtre de l’Opéra (Opera Theatre) in Paris on January 12, 1885. In a review of the opera Tabarin, published in The New York Times on February 2, 1885, the critic states: “The libretto of M. Ferrier is all fun; the music of M.(sic) Pessard all woe, tragedy, and tears.

Hence ensues an unvarying, unimpressive discrepancy that not only bores but bewilders the audience…The author and composer started out at variance; the first saw only a comedy, the latter understood a tragedy.” Whether or not Leoncavallo knew about the opera composed by Émile Pessard remains a mystery. Opera Pagliacci by Leoncavallo The short answer is – probably, yes. In a letter to his publisher mentioned numerous times in many publications, Leoncavallo claimed that the idea for the opera Pagliacci was strictly his own and based on a personal real-life experience. Undoubtedly, the incident from his childhood had an impact on the young Leoncavallo. But, to claim that a well-educated, well-read and well-travelled writer and composer was unaware of the ideas, plots and theatrical devices of the dramas and opera mentioned above, is highly improbable. It is more likely that coupled with the popular dramatic trends of his time about clowns, infidelity and murder, his childhood experiences and an obvious flair with words and music, Leoncavallo produced the Pagliacci masterpiece we enjoy today. Did Anyone Steal Anything from Anyone?

In as much as it is possible to steal ideas, there is probably some truth to this 'crime'. But, ideas need to be realised and here Ruggero Leoncavallo proved to be a true master. Matteo Sansone, perhaps, put it best when he stated: His single-handed, earnest efforts to achieve success in the fiercely competitive world of late nineteenth-century Italian opera deserve full recognition… Leoncavallo could shape a libretto and then versify the text according to his own musical requirements – an ability that none of his colleagues possessed. He was able to research on a chosen subject… and insert authentic material, such as songs, poems and historical details, into his librettos… he was… an ingenious craftsman… a deft manipulator of literary sources and a perceptive observer of current trends. from Music and Letters (1989), 70(3): 342-362 Very few people today have heard (never mind read) Estebanez’ Un Drama Nuevo or Mendes’ La Femme de Tabarin. The opera Tabarin by Pessard, based on Ferrier’s play by the same name, has also gone the route of oblivion.

On the other hand, Ruggero Leoncavallo’s opera Pagliacci, about a murderous clown, became famous and remains a favourite among opera lovers worldwide. “Pagliacci”: Classic tale of the tears of a clown | The Seattle Times “Pagliacci”: Classic tale of the tears of a clown Originally published January 6, 2008 at 12:00 am Updated January 17, 2008 at 4:19 pm Life and art are invariably intertwined, but seldom as closely as in the opera "Pagliacci" (Clowns). Ruggero Leoncavallo's opera about fatal jealousies in a traveling troupe of actors. Share story Special to The Seattle Times Life and art are invariably intertwined, but seldom as closely as in the opera “Pagliacci” (Clowns). Ruggero Leoncavallo’s opera about fatal jealousies in a traveling troupe of actors was based on a real-life story: a case encountered by Leoncavallo’s father, who was a police magistrate in Naples. The incident — concerning a middle-aged actor who murdered his unfaithful actress wife onstage during a performance — clearly inspired the story of the opera.

Opera composers don’t often write their own libretto, but it looks like this case lit a creative spark in Leoncavallo. His 1892 opera — short, gritty, and boasting one of the great tenor arias of all time (“Vesti la giubba”) — is a perennial audience favorite, and it takes the stage at McCaw Hall on Saturday evening for an eight-performance Seattle Opera run that concludes Jan. 26. “Pagliacci” is a big favorite among tenors, too, who have built juicy careers around the central role of the clown who’s crying on the inside. The fabled tenor Enrico Caruso (1873-1921) also found a close intersection between life and art. His 11-year relationship with Ada Giachetti, who bore him two children, was almost as tempestuous as the plot of “Pagliacci”; Ada was unfaithful to Caruso, and she finally ran off with his chauffeur (the two of them later unsuccessfully sued Caruso). The tenor once wrote that as he sang the role of Canio in “Pagliacci,” he wept genuine tears thinking of his own unfaithful lover.

Most Read Stories Unlimited Digital Access. $1 for 4 weeks. Caruso’s 1907 recording of “Vesti la giubba” became the first record in history to sell a million copies, but by all accounts, his recordings paled before his stage performances. Gifted with a voice so lovely that Puccini once asked whether God had sent Caruso to sing “La Bohème,” the tenor was a uniquely expressive singing actor whose effect on audiences was positively electric. Audiences at the “Pagliacci” premiere, and later at Caruso’s performances, would have been very familiar with the kind of traveling “commedia dell’arte” troupe of actors Leoncavallo describes in his opera. The actors portrayed stock figures — the male clown and his female counterpart, the young lovers, the wily servant, the old miser, the swashbuckling rogue — in a range of stock plots, as they traveled from town to town. The actors would set up an outdoor stage, sell tickets, and put on a play, improvising their dialogue and lacing it with local and topical references. Often there would be juggling, acrobatics and other stunts to entertain the audiences before the play.

In “Pagliacci,” as the traveling troupe begins its play, Canio (the clown) is consumed with jealousy because he has overheard his wife, Nedda, plan an assignation with a lover (Silvio), whose identity Canio doesn’t yet know. The play they’ll perform, whose plot has a wife scheming to deceive her husband, is a bit too close to real life. As Canio’s character demands to know the name of his wife’s lover, he stops acting and addresses her for real: Canio sings of how he rescued Nedda as an orphan, cared for her, loved her, and now she has betrayed him. The audience applauds this brilliant “performance,” not realizing that Canio isn’t acting. Furious, he finally draws his dagger and stabs Nedda, demanding the name of her lover, and she calls on Silvio for help; when Silvio rushes in, Canio stabs him, too. Shattered, he turns to the audience and proclaims: “La commedia è finita!” (The comedy is ended.) It’s powerful stuff. Those two hours (including an intermission) will be over in a twinkling. Bring your hankies.

Melinda Bargreen: mbargreen@seattletimes.com Melinda Bargreen: mbargreen@aol.com . Melinda Bargreen has been writing about music for local and national publications for four decades; she also is a composer, and the author of "50 Years of Seattle Opera." Her new book, "Classical Seattle," is due out this fall from the University of Washington Press. Email Newsletter Sign-up The Internet as "I Pagliacci" – The Moderate Voice Reprint Ruggero Leoncavallo (1857-1919, aka Rusty Lionhorse) was an Italian composer who wrote the libretto and music for the opera “I Pagliacci” (The Clowns) in 1892. It was a huge overnight success and it remains today one of the 20 most performed operas in the World. Even if you rarely listen to classical music or opera, you’ve probably heard and would recognize some of the great music and arias. Leoncavallo composed more than 20 other large Operas, Operettas and musical compositions during the rest of his life but none were anywhere as successful when initially performed.

His other compositions are viewed today as essentially unremarkable and they remain rarely-performed works. Leoncavallo lived comfortably well due to his singular success but he was frustrated for the rest of his life that he could not come close to duplicating the fame of his first opera. There have been several recent news reports pointing out that most of the thousands of programmers of Apps for the iPhone, and other Apple products have generally not made any money from their time-consuming and expensive endeavors, even with strong consumer sales and keeping 70% of the revenues. A few lucky ones have had one big App hit (as in Pagliacci) and made some nice profits but none have had multiple hits. The vast majority of programmers make practically nothing for all their efforts. Now many are turning to Palm, Google, Microsoft and other companies who are accepting their free apps in the hope that a few people might make it big. Hope springs eternal despite reality and common sense. The majority of Internet-related workers and businesses ventures, involving millions of people laboring in hundreds of fields and projects around the world have yet to make steady profits. Most of the content on the Internet is for free or available for very low prices.

People frantically and continuously post all sorts of great things that we can all view or download for free, often on matters that we once had to pay to get from other sources. Even the print media (newspapers and magazines) are facing mass extinction due to all the news and commentary available for free on the Internet. (TMV is not the only site to blame. I post here for free – what a silly fool am I – but then would anyone really pay for my thoughts?) Millions of people freely expose themselves, their family, friends, acquaintances and a few enemies to global ridicule on YouTube, FaceBook, MySpace, and a myriad of other free sites. All prospective employers, spouses, debt collectors, and most Internet users are just a few clicks away from learning way too much about any particular person. Now a myriad of free porn sites is damaging the profitability of the original porn web sites that were some of the few businesses that made money on the Internet. Some people complain that the Patriot Act infringes upon personal privacy rights despite the fact that millions of people have voluntarily given those rights away for free over the Internet. We should all be singing that famous aria from Pagliacci: “Laugh, clown, laugh” while we hold back our tears.

With this deep recession, some people have suggested that the unemployed turn to volunteer work – as if that’s going to help them cover the monthly mortgage or rental payments. Some conservative republican capitalists have been trying to get people to work for free for years and now they have their best chance to bring back slavery in over 150 years. A number of desperate people have taken them up on this strange idea in the hope that somehow they could make valuable new business connections that lead to new employment or commercial opportunities. It’s sad that volunteering at the local homeless shelter or other charities (where former volunteers and employees are now clients) is the hot new professional networking forum. At least they can all commiserate together. Some of the creative ones might be able to collectively come up with a few good new business ideas. Unfortunately obtaining seed funding or small business loans in this economy is another can of worms. More than 20 years of outsourcing American jobs was an essential part of the eternal capitalistic search for the lowest possible labor costs enabled by the mantra of “Free Trade.” Most things that can be done in a factory or an office, on a computer, and over the Internet, can be readily outsourced to any low-cost location in the world.

Probably only a few dozen jobs cannot be outsourced as they require a person’s or a business’ actual physical presence in the U.S. to serve paying clients. Many of these jobs are staffed by illegal aliens since most Americans lost interest in them due to the very low pay and difficult work conditions. Little did we realize these lousy jobs were immune from outsourcing and that explains why there were so many illegal aliens coming here for those same jobs. We really only have our business and political leaders to blame. Do we need another chorus of “Laugh, clowns, laugh?” Americans can easily complete globally, regardless of their educational levels or experience. Retraining is actually not difficult because they must simply learn to work for 50 cents an hour. This would result in the median annual household income (with 2 people working) dropping to around $21,000 from its already depressed current level of $50,000. Now we just have to cut all our living expenses by more than half and we would be completely set for the future. Once you give away your skills and services for free, it’s really hard to market and sell them for anything more later on.

Humanity is splitting into 2 distinct camps, those few who reap all the rewards and the rest who do all the work and fight over the scraps. Too many of the fortunate falsely believe they made it on their own so they owe nothing back to society, and that luck and a lot of help from others were not major parts of their success. Too much of the American dream was based upon limited anecdotal evidence retelling the lives of a very small number of big winners. That dream required completely ignoring the many noble failures, even by some who finished very close but just not enough. This is true in our professional sports, entertainment, and business sectors, as well as today’s Internet. We all realize that “life is not fair” but today we also find that life is completely surreal. Many are now living a new American nightmare as prolonged high unemployment becomes self-perpetuating and a permanent barrier to individual, household, business, and national recovery. We really have to come up with a workable and achievable new American reality but we will have to drop all our past fantasies, current fears, and rigid ideologies.

We can beat up ourselves and each other endlessly over the mistakes we made, and for not having the foresight or honesty to see the problems we now face. Or we can move on with some new-found clarity and wisdom, and start the long hard work of collectively remaking ourselves and our country into something that more fully reflects our better natures. To those readers who may criticize this post and some of my prior posts as being too negative, I’m actually in quite a chipper, playful and positive mood. Now imagine how depressing this post could have been. But then…the sun will come out tomorrow… Submitted by Marc Pascal – who is still looking for a few green cactus shoots of economic progress in warm, sunny, and strangely quiet Phoenix, AZ except for my regular afternoon blasting of symphonies and operas from my CD player. Oct 7, 2009 The Harbinger. Pagliacci: The Story of a Sad Clown.

Pagliacci: The Story of a Sad Clown A Review by Pat and Ernie Pinson For the second time this season, Mobile Opera elected to present on March 18 and 20 an opera taken from real life and actual events (La Traviata was the first Oct 98). Leoncavallo, who wrote both the music and the libretto, heard this true story when just a boy of an actor who killed his wife after a performance in his hometown, Montalto, Italy, in 1870. His father had been the trial judge. This somewhat new device of using verismo (truth) in which Leoncavallo presented true-to-life events allows clever interplay oscillating between the opera's real life story and the opera's internal pretended story. Hence, Canio of the external flesh and blood story kills his wife when the pretend story breaks into his real world. Many clever double meanings can come from this system of shadow boxing and mirror reflecting parallels.

The second source is an eminently popular type of drama that sprung up in Italy in the sixteenth century called commedia dell' arte, a troupe of strolling, stock characters (usually eight) who performed a series of mostly extemporaneous plays. These eight characters even had stock names like Pagliacci (which means clown), Colombina, and Harlequin who appear in this opera. Thus the opera opened with an interesting non-set -- a bare stage with two or three workers checking lights, laying out a costume, moving a tree. One would have thought that somehow it was the wrong night for the opera. But as the orchestra played the overture, one of the workers began to sing that we were about to see a production about a clown - - the flats began to drop, and the set materialized as we watched. What a dramatic opening to an opera that is itself about putting a play on stage! By the time the villagers assemble in their earth-colored costumes, the stage is complete. The blocking and movement of the chorus was quite good, although it seemed at times they moved in slow motion when they were singing about excitement. Beautiful voices were par for the evening. There was not one weak point.

Voices were well matched in color and power. Tonio, the wicked clown, and Silvio, the lover, were especially effective in their stage presence. Tonio's attempted rape carried the realism home a little stronger than usual and continued to build the unity of this bold verismo presentation. Nedda's sensuality pervaded the stage throughout Act I, and her best acting was in the love scenes. Canio's famous aria, Vesti la giubba, where he gets ready for the show to go on in spite of personal pain, was acted out on the small stage. Full of remorse, anger and revenge, the scene is almost overacted, although the vocal delivery was excellent. Act II, being much shorter, is basically the presentation of the sixteenth century commedia dell' arte traveling stage of stock characters. Here, a Mobile University student, Chauncey Packer as Beppo, holds his own with the principals. He sings exceptionally well and acted as if quite used to being on stage. The whole stylized little play becomes a little too big for such a small area -- which would normally fit right into the concept of this intruding reality, but it becomes a little clumsy at times. Still, it was funny and delightful.

Nedda's recovery was especially good after being thrown to the floor by a now furious Canio when the little play threatens to disintegrate. She moves back into character and attempts to retrieve the situation before the confused villagers. The end moves in with swift pace, and Canio's murder of his wife and then of Silvio her lover is shockingly realistic. Tonio, the mind behind the whole tragedy, strides forward and pulls the real theater curtain closed in an angry dust-filled jerk as he exclaims to the real audience that "the comedy is over!" What a performance! The conception and the stage direction were strong and forceful. The two clowns even continued the play-within-the play concept by continuing their act in the foyer during intermission and the painted intermission curtain was the same as the backdrop for the little stage. The audience and the characters, the villagers and the play, the opera and the little play all respond to each other. Accolades to Michael Scarola. The singers were excellent and so was the chorus.

We might have wished that Canio had been more driven in his stage demeanor, and that Nedda had a bit more delicacy at times, but all in all, the play was riveting, and truly, the comedy ended in true tragedy. But which was it -- professional actors presenting a true event or were those real people acting out a play? The Harbinger , P.O. Box U-980, Mobile, AL 36688-0001 Pagliacci (unabridged) – Naxos AudioBooks Opera Explained – Werther (unabridged) Booklet Notes The word ‘opera’ is Latin and means ‘the works’; it represents a synthesis of all the other arts: drama, vocal and orchestral music, dance, light and design. Consequently, it delivers an emotional impact which none of the others can match. The only one of the arts whose origins can be precisely dated, it was ‘invented’ in Italy in 1597 as part of the Renaissance – the rebirth of interest in classical values.

As an art form it is truly international, crossing all linguistic and cultural barriers, and it is probably the only one whose audience continues to expand, not in spite of, but because of developments in entertainment technology. From its early origins in Italy opera spread across Europe, establishing individual and distinctive schools in a number of countries. France had an early and long- standing love affair with it – hence the term grand opéra, referring to the massive five-act creations that graced the Paris Opéra in the nineteenth century. Germany had an excellent school from as early as Mozart’s time, and opera perhaps reached its highest achievement with the mighty music dramas of Richard Wagner. Russia, Great Britain and the Americas have also made their contributions. In the popular imagination, however, opera remains an Italian concept – and no wonder. From its earliest years Italians dominated the art: Cavalli and Monteverdi were among the first to establish its forms; there was a golden age, called the bel canto, at the beginning of the nineteenth century when Bellini, Donizetti and Rossini ruled supreme; Giuseppe Verdi was probably the most revered artist in musical history; and, for many, Puccini represents in every sense the last word in this beloved genre.

Although the twentieth century has not been as lavishly endowed with opera composers, it can still boast a few, including Richard Strauss, Igor Stravinsky and 4Benjamin Britten – and, maybe most significantly in the long run, those errant step- children of opera, the Broadway musical and the Lloyd Webber spectacular. Pagliacci – Players Opera in a prologue and two acts by Ruggiero Leoncavallo. Libretto by the composer. First performance: Milan, Teatro dal Verme, 21 May 1892. First UK performance: London, Covent Garden, 19 May 1893. First US performance: New York, Grand Opera House, 15 June 1893. Undeniably one of the most powerful short operas in the international opera repertory, Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci – which simply means ‘Players’ – has come recently into a life of its own in a very interesting way. For over a century it was invariably paired in performance with Mascagni’s equally powerful Cavalleria rusticana, leading to the slightly irreverent nickname of opera’s ‘Heavenly Twins’.

Nowadays Pagliacci is often given alone. Cynics may say that this reflects the shorter attention-spans of current audiences: our grandparents would have felt short-changed if an evening at the theatre lasted less than three hours, and their grandparents if it lasted less than five. But modern audiences respond strongly to the musical and dramatic values of Pagliacci when it stands alone. These values include one of the most effective stories in the operatic canon, a score which is as skilful as it is melodically inspired, and that very rare fusion of a brilliant libretto with a tailor-made score – the librettist, in this case, being the composer himself. The story is set in the very south of Italy in the nineteenth century and tells of a troupe of travelling clowns headed by Canio, one of opera’s great dramatic roles. He has a wife, Nedda, who is lusted after by the villain Tonio and truly loved by a local boy called Silvio. When Nedda rejects Tonio’s advances and is spied in Silvio’s embrace, Tonio tells all to husband Canio and the stage is set – literally – for double murder and deep tragedy.

What gives the action such power and cohesion is the device of the play-within- the-play, of which Shakespeare showed mastery in both A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Hamlet. As the actors of the troupe – the clowns – act out the night’s play using the stock heroes, heroine and villains of the old commedia dell’arte, their comic stage lives and tragic true lives precisely intersect in a devastating fashion. So Nedda/Columbine’s love for Silvio/Harlequin has tragic consequences when her husband Canio/Pagliaccio ‘breaks role’ and confronts her on-stage with demands for her lover’s name. The mounting tension of the extraordinary finale – short but intense – is heightened by music of overwhelming power. Leoncavallo was deeply influenced by Wagner, who also wrote his own libretti, and like many others he struggled to absorb the lessons of the master while establishing an independent voice. The success of Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana (1890) inspired Leoncavallo to write this masterpiece (1892), which many believed would herald a new dawn, as opera emerged from the shadows of the nineteenth century’s giants Verdi and Wagner.

But it was not to be, and it is more reasonable to see Pagliacci as a superb last triumph of an art form – Italian opera in decline, later to reach its final apotheosis in Puccini’s Turandot. For young Leoncavallo, too, this was a false dawn, as he was never again to achieve a success to equal this masterpiece of music theatre. Synopsis Montalto, Calabria. Feast of the Assumption, about 1865–70. Prologue Tonio, an actor in a troupe of strolling players, comes in front of the curtain to tell the audience that the performance is about to begin. He hints at the story, saying that the play is about real people with everyday human feelings. Act I The village inhabitants enthusiastically welcome a company of actors, just arriving in the village square. Tonio goes to help Nedda down from the carriage but is pushed aside by her jealous husband Canio, who will not let anybody near her. The actors head towards the inn, and Nedda is left alone, disturbed by her husband’s words. She envies the freedom of the birds.

Tonio approaches her, declaring his feelings, and when he becomes too insistent Nedda strikes him across the face with a whip. He stumbles out, focussed on revenge. He then eavesdrops on a conversation between Nedda and her young peasant lover Silvio, whom she finally agrees to elope with that very evening. Canio interrupts the conversation, having been alerted by Tonio, and Silvio escapes. Canio threatens Nedda with a knife, demanding to know the name of her lover. But it is almost time for the performance to begin, so Canio must hide his agitation and despair behind his mask. Act II People stream in to watch the performance, Silvio among them. The play begins: Columbine, here Columbina, (Nedda) is waiting for her lover Harlequin, here Arlecchino, (Beppe). Instead of Harlequin, however, the foolish Taddeo (Tonio) enters and declares his love to Columbine, who rejects him. Harlequin then arrives, but soon has to leave again because Pagliaccio, Columbine’s husband, returns unexpectedly.

Pagliaccio hears his wife’s farewell to Harlequin – the same words that Nedda herself spoke to Silvio before the play. Canio is transported to a real-life situation and becomes confused. His lines are no longer part of the play. He demands to know the name of her lover, and when she refuses to tell him he stabs her. When Silvio rushes onto the stage to help Nedda, Canio kills him too. He then addresses the audience with ‘La commedia è finita’ (‘The comedy is ended’). Notes by Thomson Smillie Famous Italian Operas Famous Italian Operas Famous Italian Operas Everyone Ought to Know When you hear the word opera, do you think of famous Italian operas? Italy is where opera was born. Some of the greatest operas include famous opera songs that have been created by famous composers in Italy . There was a time when opera music was composed exclusively to Italian language lyrics. A list of famous operas is provided below. For many people, Italian opera is associated with famous opera composers, classic Italian music, wondrous Italian culture, volatile Italian history and fascinating Italian traditions. For some, even Italian fashion designers and famous Italian villas come to mind.

11 Things to Discover About Famous Italian Operas Italian Opera Scandal, Intrigue, Betrayal…. Elements of an Italian Opera Some of the Best Known Opera Theatres are in Italy Drama is a Feature of Opera Many Operas Portray Italian Culture Why do Most People Think Italian, When They Think of Famous Operas? Italian Opera Concert To answer any question about Italian opera, we should probably ask a few more detailed questions. Where did opera originate? In Italy. Italy is the land, where opera was born, the land of the beginnings of opera. Of course, it wasn’t called Italy at that time. Venice are the Italian cities where opera began. Today, opera continues to flourish in Italy – Milan (La Scala) Pisa (Teatro Verdi). Who wrote the first opera? An Italian, of course. The formal name that was first used in the 17th century was opera di musica – “a work in music”. There is some discussion as to which should really be considered the first opera.

The choice is: Dafne composed by Jacopo Corsi and Jacopo Peri to Ottavio Runuccini’s libretto, performed in Florence in 1598 Rappresentatione di anima at di corpo composed by Emilio de’ Cavalieri to the text of a sacred morality play, performed in Rome in 1600 L’Orfeo composed by Claudio Monteverdi to a libretto by Alessandro Striggio, performed in Mantua in 1607. But, there is no doubt! They were all composed by Italians. Who invented opera? The Italians. And, famous Italian opera singers continue to cultivate the best of Italian opera as part of popular culture. Who can forget Luciano Pavarotti, Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo and the opening of the 1990 World Cup and what they did to popularize opera! Who started opera? The Italians, of course. Opera began in the royal courts of the Italian artistocracy in the 17th century. The artists and craftsmen, who put on the opera productions were employed by the court on a full-time basis.

After attending the productions, the diplomats and invited guests would write letters to their friends and family at the many other royal courts in Europe. In these letters, they would describe the magnificence and splendour of the spectacle. Do Italy Vacations Include an Italian Opera Performance? Today, many of the best vacation packages to Italy focus their escorted tours of Italy on opera classical music itineraries with an overnight in an old Italian villa. European river cruises often include music programs that focus on Italian classical composers. The Italian government today is encouraging Italian immersion programs in Italy. Some of these travel tours to Italy, in addition to providing participants with the opportunity to learn in Italian, add time to sample local Italian food as part of a best vacation in Italy experience. To make an opera performance evening amazing there should probably be a vacation packages to Italy ticket lottery in the opera theatre foyer and a pre- or post-performance dinner at the best Italian restaurant featuring an Italian menu accompanied by famous Italian wines. Sensational! What Are the Names of Famous Italian Opera Singers? Italian Opera Singers Italian opera singers can be those who: were born in Italy spent a major part of their life in Italy performed frequently in Italy became famous singing Italian opera repertoire.

The following is a list of famous Italian opera singers which we are regularly updating with new information for you to discover. We have ordered the list of famous Italian opera singers by birth date. Carlo Maria Michelangelo Nicola Broschi (1705 – 1782) known to the opera world as Farinelli was born in Andria, in the southern regions of present-day Italy. At the time, it was ruled by the House of Carafa, a Neapolitan family of landowners. Farinelli was a castrato. Mattia Battistini (1856 – 1928), an Italian baritone, who in addition to reaching fame with his operatic voice was known for his flamboyant lifestyle. Gemma Bellincioni (1864 – 1950), an Italian soprano who lived a time when opera singers would travel as a troupe from one royal court to another. Discover MORE . Salomea Krusceniski (1872 – 1952), a Ukrainian born soprano, who became a well-known opera singer that the Italians came to consider their own. Discover MORE .

Enrico Caruso (1873 – 1921), a tenor, who was born, died and is buried in Naples, Italy. Maria Callas (1923 – 1977), a Greek soprano who perfected the Italian style of bel canto. Luciano Pavarotti (1935 – 2007), a tenor, born in Modena, which is located in the north-central region of Italy. He is buried in the Pavarotti Family crypt in Castelnuovo Rangone, which is about 10km south of Modena, Italy. Placido Domingo (b.1941), a contemporary Italian tenor. Cecilia Bartoli (b.1966), a contemporary Italian mezzo soprano. Discover MORE . What Are Some of the Most Memorable Italian Opera Songs? Famous Italian Opera Gala Memorable songs, arias, pieces… are tunes that: we remember sometimes go round-and-round in our heads we tend to associate with notable events.

Italian opera songs that are favourites around the world include: Vesti la giubba – from the opera Pagliacci is a tenor aria that has been used in various TV commercials – most memorably for Coca-Cola (a new window will open). As Canio sings the aria, he contemplates his fate of being a clown who must make people laugh despite the fact that inside he may be crying. Celeste Aida – from the opera Aida is a tenor aria in which Radames extols the virtues of the woman he loves. Anvil Chorus – from the opera Il trovatore is performed by the chorus of male and female Gypsies to the rhythm of the anvils or hammers knocking against the hot metal, as they forge their tools and weapons. Libiamo – from the opera La traviata performed by the soloists and choir is often included as a final number of encore in opera concerts. Va pensiero – from the opera Nabucco, better known to some as the Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves that inspired the Italian revolution. Discover MORE . Who is the Famous Clown in the Italian Opera Pagliacci?

Italian Opera Clowns Most people, when they discuss the clown opera or the Italian opera clown are refering to the opera Pagliacci composed and premiered in 1892 by Ruggero Leoncavallo (1857 – 1919). There are actually more clowns than just one in the opera Pagliacci. There is an evil clown , a jealous clown, a romantic clown – all male, and one female clown that can either be labelled a tramp or an abused young woman depending on the perspective taken by the stage director and conductor. Listen to opera music online: the opening scene of the opera the scene between the female Nedda and the evil Tonio as he lusts for her the Intermezzo in the opera. Read about why the opera Pagliacci is considered to be a good opera to see if someone is a beginner to the world of opera . See images of the opera and the literary works that inspired it (or, was it that Leoncavallo plagiarized from them?)

Question: Who wrote the opera "Pagliacci"?
Answer: Leoncavallo