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Introduction
When my friends and colleagues in both the Music and Italian Departments
of the University of California, Berkeley, gave me the great and undeserved
honour of inviting me to take up the Chair of Italian Culture for the Fall term
of 1988, I thought it my duty to choose for my lectures a topic that would
interest both fields and, at the same time, one through which I could present
some ideas based on my experience both as a scholar and a teacher. The subject
of Dante and Italian music came immediately to mind, almost as a logical conse-
quence of the criteria I had set myself. Italian composers turn to Dante's poetry
only at specific moments in history, and for different yet clearly discernible
reasons. It so happens that my interests as a musicologist coincide with those
composers, those moments, those reasons.
There are, in my opinion, two main trends in Italian music; or, to put it
more precisely, two different Italian attitudes towards music throughout history.
Although these two trends may co-exist in the same period and in the same
composer, sometimes one or the other will characterise the output of a single
historical figure or a single moment in music history. One trend is clearly dis-
cernible through its serene, vivacious, spirited quality; the music it produces
is almost never accompanied by prose writings, and is rarely written about.
It is music which seems almost to be the manifestation of a vital act: a combination
of what the Germans call 'Heiterkeit' and what Italo Calvino, in Six Memos
for the Next Millennium, those final lectures he had prepared for the Norton
Chair at Harvard and which death prevented him from delivering, calls 'legge-
rezza', lightness.1 I have in mind - to give just a few clarifying examples -
andDante's:
Calvinosays:
Thetwolinesarealmostidentical,buttheyexpresstwocompletely differentconceptions.
In both, the snow on windlessdays suggestsa light, silentmoment.But herethe
resemblance ends, and the differencebegins.In Dantethe line is dominatedby the
specificationof theplace('inalpe'),whichrecallsa mountainous landscape. In Caval-
canti, on the other the
hand, adjective -
'bianca' which may seem -
pleonastic together
withtheverb'scendere' (to fall)- againcompletely predictable- dissolvethelandscape
intoanatmosphere of suspended abstraction.Butit is chieflythefirstwordthatdeter-
minesthe differencebetweenthe two lines. In Cavalcanti the conjunction'e' (and)
puts the snow on the same level as the other visionsthat precedeandfollow it in
the sonnet:a seriesof imageslike a catalogueof the beautiesof the world.In Dante
the adverb'come'(as)enclosestheentirescenein theframeof a metaphor,butwithin
this frameit has a concreterealityof its own. No less concreteanddramaticis the
landscapeof hell undera rainof fire, whichhe illustrates by the simileof the snow.
In Cavalcanti everything movesso swiftlythatwe areunaware of its consistency,only
of its effects.In Danteeverythingacquiresconsistencyandstability:the weightof
thingsis preciselyestablished. Evenwhenhe is speakingof lightthings,Danteseems
to wantto rendertheexactweightof thelightness:'comedinevein alpesenzavento'.2
2
Calvino, Six Memos, 14-15 (translation slightly modified).
1 Monteverdiand Orfeo
Whereas Petrarch's texts are at the centre of Renaissance music from the very
beginning of the period, Dante comes into the picture only at the very end.
Significantly, composers of madrigals turned to Dante only when they wanted
texts that contained harsh, crude, conflicting images. Moreover, these composers
were few in number. Given the sense of competition that surrounded settings
of the same poetic text during the Renaissance, it is symptomatic that two
tercets from the third canto of Inferno:
Quivi sospiri,piantied altiguai
risonavanperl'aeresanzastelle,
per ch'io al cominciarne lacrimai.
Diverselingue,orribilifavelle,
paroledi dolore, accentid'ira,
voci altee fioche, e suon di mancon elle (III.22-7)
[Theresighs, lamentationsand loud wailings/ resoundedthroughthe starlessair, /
so that at first it made me weep. / Strangetongues, horriblelanguages,/ words of
pain, tones of anger,/ voicesloud andhoarse,andwith thesethe soundof hands]
were set to music no less than seven times in the space of only eight years
between 1576 and 1584.3 Rather than any precise poetic meaning, what most
interested these composers were (as mentioned earlier) Dante's crude, violent
images. Notice that the two tercets contain no supporting verb: the verb is
found at the start of the next tercet, 'facevano un tumulto, il qual s'aggira',
and this line was never included in the various settings.
Luca Marenzio turned to Dante only once, and he chose among the Rime
a text of similar characterfor the madrigalwhich opens his ninth book of 'madri-
gali a cinque' (1599): 'Cosi nel mio parlar vogl'esser aspro'. In 1604 Claudio
Merulo took the opening of the last canto of Paradiso, 'Vergine madre, figlia
del tuo figlio', for a madrigal in his second book 'a cinque voci'. With a few
other insignificant items, this is the meagre anthology of Dante's texts in the
entire madrigal repertory.
During that same period in which 'Quivi sospiri, pianti ed alti guai' enjoyed
such popularity among the madrigalisti, Vincenzo Galilei, Galileo's father, did
not hesitate to turn in 1581 to the last canto of Inferno for a text of extraordinary
expressive power, using Count Ugolino's lament as a test for his theories and
ideas on solo singing, modelled after what he thought was Greek monody.
Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately - the piece is lost. It is, in any case,
the only text by Dante we know to have been chosen by the experimental
monodists at the turn of the century.
3 By suchcomposersas LuzzascoLuzzaschiandGiulioRenaldi(1576),GiovanniBattista
Mosto (1578),LambertCourteys(1580),DomenicoMicheliandFrancescoSoriano(1581),
PietroVinci(1584);see EmilVogel, AlfredEinstein,ClaudioSartoriandFrancoisLesure,
Ilnuovo Vogel (Lamezia, 1983), 652, 1526, 1845, 1977, 2333, 2621, 2922. On Dante
and Renaissance composers, see the excellent essay by Francesco Degrada, 'Dante e la
musica del Cinquecento', Chigiana, 22, new ser. 2 (1965), 257-75.
Ex. 1
Speranza
^ ,J J J i,jijii J C-r rr j i
(':br ?' ? J IJ j o
h?f I
'
( J-- I LU. ri - J I! 1 .. 1
Ex. 1
Charon tries to turn back the daring and bold human who, although still
5 G. Savinio, 'Fortuna' [of the Divine Comedy], in the entry on 'Mantova', Enciclopedia
dantesca (Rome, 1971), III, 812-13.
alive, wishes to cross the dead waters of Acheron, the infernal river. Orfeo
must convince Charon, who threateningly bars the way, to take him by boat
across the river of Hell, so that he can reach Pluto's realm and his beloved
Euridice.
Orfeo has only one means at his disposal with which to win over Charon:
his voice and his art, Music. After Charon's stern speech, built on recurring
melodic fragments, and after the instrumental interlude, Orfeo begins his great
aria 'Possente spirto, e formidabil nume'. Placed at the centre of the third act
- which is in turn the central part of this five-act 'favola in musica' - this aria
is the longest and most important set piece of the entire score. It is the supreme
moment in which the mythical singer must, with his art and only with his
art, overcome the immutable rules that govern life and death. And here occurs
the last and, in my opinion, the most significant influence of Dante's poem.
Striggio's metre for Orfeo's aria is the 'terzina di endecasillabi', the eleven-
syllable-line tercet which is the metre of the Divine Comedy. Monteverdi, who
asserted that 'l'oratione sia padrona dell'armonia, e non serva' (speech should
be the master of music, and not its servant), here respects not so much the
expressive meaning of the text, but rather its articulation. Instead of following
its logical sense and syntactical construction, Monteverdi articulates the setting
according to the structure, and only the structure, of the poetic text. After
each tercet, sung by Orfeo in the most elaborate virtuoso style (a magnificent
yet dramatically functional display of diminution technique - the art of embel-
lishing a melodic line), a set of two instruments, playing first in echo and then
in parallel thirds, marks the end of each tercet and the beginning of the next.
The instruments change at each interlude, or 'Ritornello': first come violins,
then cornets, then 'arpa dopia' (on which two echoing and parallel parts are
played by the same instrumentalist), and finally a trio of two violins and 'basso
da brazzo' as Orfeo introduces himself to Charon and explains the reasons
for his request:
The instrumental colour, whose changes are scanned by the poetical structure,
enhances and strengthens Orfeo's virtuoso vocal performance. No richer or
more varied display of musical means could realise so vigorously, and in such
purely dramatic terms, the power of music. Through this peculiar device, the
instruments and the human voice are placed at the same functional level; and
they have one and the same function, that of moving the inflexible guardian
of Hell.
The last tercet of Orfeo's aria, however, has no concluding instrumentalrefrain
and, even more important, is not to be sung in an elaborate virtuoso style,
It is surely no mere coincidence that, at the dramatic climax of his first opera,
at the moment in which Orfeo - emblematic personification of the artist-
musician - displays the full resources of his art, Monteverdi, the 'creator of
modern music',6 turned to Dante, and to the structure of his Divine Comedy.
In different, sometimes undetectable ways, great artists at the culminating point
of their careers turn, or return, instinctively to the most profound roots of
the civilisation to which they belong, and of which they are an expression.
It is one of the few blessings of our time that masterpieces such as Monteverdi's
Orfeo have recently become part of our daily musical experience at the inter-
national level: witness the host of recordings that continue to appear on the
market. Yet only by referring to the cultural idiom to which Orfeo belongs
6 The termis Leo Schrade's,andcomesfromhis Monteverdi:Creatorof ModernMusic
(New York, 1950).
Ex. 2
0
6. -O - . j , a.
A
fb( o o o Jdd
t.. J
'0 0 0 oi J J
Orfeo
f J tu? I- . j Jl - I
Sol
I noJ - bi - le Dio puoi dar - mia - i - ta
rb( * t O O 0
?00 r
L 1
b.. o_ fr ' ?
-Sp " o $ J J
: oNe jJ J
Orf.
=b aJ _j ! JSSSUI j J J | Ip f r ii
Ne te - mer dei chesopr'u - n'au - rea ce - tra Sol di cor - de so-
9b ?
I ?
1 o fr I
o
(continues)
"I rr i " i0 b
"'-I
=^^J ? Ii J 0 J 0 J
Orf. Xb ?I fr41 0 iJ J
- a - vi ar - mo le di - ta Con - tra cui ri- gi-
-9:b |jJ J ? o o t1 I
_ , -- "
e J J J
?
0
b
0 J JJ d
Orf.
-b - jJ. IJ Io I1
Ex. 2
contour. In fact, the style of the Tasso melody explainsthat of the off-stage
song in the last act of Otello. Example3 presentsthe 'Aria del Tasso' in one
of Tartini'sversions;Example4 gives the gondolier'ssong in Rossini's opera.
The two melodiesmayatfirstsightseemverydifferent;yet on closerexamination
one discoversthat both move almost entirely in stepwise motion, and that -
as it should be - their rhythmsstronglyemphasisethe accentsand declamation
of the text. The differencelies in the fact that the Tartiniversionhas a strong
modalflavour,while thatof Rossiniadaptsthe musicmoreto the tonalsystem.
Ex. 3
Ex. 3
So far as we know, Donizetti turnedto Dante only once in his prolific career.
It was in 1828, while he was resident in Naples, before he had reachedthe
leadingposition amongoperacomposershe was to occupy afterAnna Bolena,
firstperformedat Milan'sTeatroCarcanoin 1830.In orderto ingratiatehimself
with the bassLuigiLablache,one of the most famoussingersof the time, Doni-
zetti wrote for him a sort of chambercantatafor bass and piano, choosing
as a text Count Ugolino's lament - the same passagefrom the last canto of
Inferno that, two and a half centuriesbefore, Vincenzo Galilei had selected
for his experimentin monody. For Donizetti the choice was purely practical:
it gave his dedicateethe opportunityto presentthe full rangeof his expressive
skills; the composershowed no real concernfor the culturalvalue and signifi-
cance of the text. In choosing a text by Dante, Donizetti basicallyfollowed
the contemporarytrendtowardsthe MiddleAges and Renaissancefor 'artistic'
subjects:his versionof Count Ugolino's lamentis a precisemusicalcounterpart
of the 'romanzo storico' - historicalnovels by Tommaso Grossi, Massimo
D'Azeglio and others- or of the largehistoricalpaintingsof FrancescoHayez.
That the composerlooked at this piece as a mereexercisecan be gatheredfrom
a letterhe wrote on 15May 1828to his reveredteacherSimoneMayrin Bergamo:
232 PierluigiPetrobelli
em-*P I- - I -h I I 1.
Nes -
Andantino -
tremolo
- ii,,!i':, :
{;i; :,:
^^j>^ SJ
G.
r S
i~ ?r 2 c 1
rd~~~~
tL :j'i
G Ab;j
I--
-g"
p
l -VIp I
1 ?'< II Ip TpI
'I v
rI . I
I
r 0
- dar- si del tem- po fe - li - ce nel-la mi - se - - - - ria.
1 w I J I- \ t i
;^j.
Ex. 4
'I send you a little Souvenirof my music. L'esuledi Roma and variousother
pieces from operas which were successfulin Naples. Among them you will
find the Ugolino by Dante: it has received some favourable comments, but
I want yours.'12
There may be other settings of Dante's poetry dating from this period, and
they are likely to be of the same general type, possibly with the same purpose
as that by Donizetti. Several operas were written to libretti based on episodes
or characters from the Divine Comedy: Donizetti's own Pia de' Tolomei, for
example; or Mercadante's and Morlacchi's settings of Francescada Rimini, both
to a libretto by Felice Romani which may derive from Silvio Pellico's tragedy
rather than from Dante's poem. The young Verdi may also have been active
in this cultural trend: during his early years in Busseto, while composing music
for the local accademia, he may very well have written pieces like Donizetti's
Ugolino lament, since we know that he wrote a sort of cantata on Manzoni's
II cinque maggio. 13
Such early efforts show a Verdi clearly anxious to seem 'learned', albeit at
the same time trying to find his own path and, especially, his own most authentic
voice. However, Verdi's use of Dantean texts in the last part of his careerbelongs
to a totally different world, primarily because of the reasons that provoked
his choice. The six-year silence that followed the Requiem (written in 1874
for the first anniversary of Manzoni's death) has always intrigued biographers
and musicologists. What reasons forced an artist of such great creative powers
to stop suddenly and for such a long period at the height of his career? And
what forces led him to return to the musical scene?
I am convinced that the answer to these questions can be found, at least
in part, in historical events, and above all in the political, social and cultural
situation of Italy at that time.
Italy had become an independent state, a kingdom under the ruling Savoy
dynasty, only a few years earlier in 1861. But the unification of the country
had brought more problems and questions than it had solved, something all
too logical and predictable, given the nation's previous history. Before unifica-
tion, Italy was made up of little states, each with a long and complicated history
and with profound differences in language, cultural traditions, economic devel-
opment and political consciousness. What is more, these differences far
outweighed the common elements. To give just one example of the differences
between various regions of the country at the time of unification: the degree
of illiteracy in a region like Lombardy was 53.7 per cent, while in a region
like Sardinia it was 89.7 per cent.'4 Unification had in fact been realised by
a passionately committed, but nonetheless rather restricted, minority. In a
country where there was practically no middle class, the concept of national
unity was thus understood and shared only by the minority that had produced
it. Added to this, the differences within this minority were also pronounced.
Cavour's trite sentence, 'L'Italia e fatta; ora bisogna fare gli Italiani' (Italy is
made; now we have to make the Italians), not only summarisesa precise historical
situation; it also underlines a problem whose consequences are still with us
today.
We all know that Verdi was recognised as a living symbol of national unity
even before political unification had become a reality. The famous 'patriotic
choruses' of his early operas, 'Va pensiero sull'ali dorate' from Nabucco, 'O
Signore, dal tetto natio' from I Lombardi, 'Si ridesti il Leon di Castiglia' from
Ernani and 'Patria oppressa' from Macbeth, were conscious stylistic choices
within Verdi's 'prima maniera'; but their influence and stirring power has been
greatly exaggerated - and for very specific reasons of propoganda.15 In fact,
Verdi's concern for unity after 1861 was much more relevant, and much greater.
Paradoxically, or not so paradoxically if we consider the weight of past trad-
ition and the nation's fundamental isolation from the main European cultural
stream, the moment when Italy achieved political unity also became the moment
when national traditions began to be questioned. This is particularly true of
music, and especially of opera, in which Italy had reigned supreme for more
than two centuries. But by 1860 Verdi was the only Italian composer creating
works which were influential at the international level. Meanwhile, instead of
new operas, performances of works which had obtained great success in the
past became more and more frequent: the idea and the reality of an Italian
operatic 'repertory' dates from this period. The 'repertory' was enlarged by
the arrivalon Italian stages of various 'grands operas', especially those of Meyer-
beer, and other French operas such as Gounod's Faust. At the same time, and
even though only in well-defined and exclusive circles, performances of instru-
mental chamber music and the founding of 'Societa di concerti' became more
frequent: our present day 'pocket score', for example, originated from a very
small Florentine music publisher, Giovanni Gualberto Guidi, who engraved
and sold his first examples to accompany performances organised by the pub-
lisher's mentor and adviser, the learned musical scholar Abramo Basevi.
And of course there was a great deal of talk about Wagner. But talk was
all it was, because with the exception of pieces like the Tannhduser overture
- which was performed by military bands - no music by Wagner, let alone
entire operas, was known or heard. However, Wagner had soon become a
symbol in Italian life and Italian musical culture; the author of 'The Artwork
of the Future' exerted a powerful appeal on that layer of Italian society which
14
SeeGiuliaBaroneandArmandoPetrucci,Primonon leggere.Bibliotecheepubblicalettura
inItaliadal1861ai nostrigiorni(Milan,1976),11.
15 SeeRogerParker,'Sull'ali dorate':TheVerdianPatriotic anditsReception
Chorus in 1848,
to be publishedby the Istitutonazionaledi studiverdiani,Parma.
at least as Verdi understood it; but the verticalsonorities clearly reveal the
piece's date of composition. Dante and Palestrina:here are the 'fathers'of our
languageand literature,and of our music. Following their example, and in
light of the traditionthey represent,we shouldfind commontraitswhich enable
us to overcome petty regional differencesand personal animosities;we will
find, through them, a sense of common belonging, the roots of our political
unity. This is the message the Padre nostro volgarizzato da Dante seeks to
convey, somethingwell beyond artisticand musicalmatters.And the message
finds its greatestartisticrealisationin the new Finaleof the first act of Simon
Boccanegra,on which Verdi worked in the months immediatelyafterthe pre-
miere of the two pieces on texts 'volgarizzatida Dante'. As Verdi wrote in
a letter of 20 November 1880 to Giulio Ricordi, at the time he was about
to beginrevisionof the Boccanegralibretto:
Let us returnto the first-actFinale... Whatcouldone find for it? I saidat the
beginningof this letterthatwe mustfindfor this act somethingwhichgivesvariety
anda littlebrioto theoverpowering darknessof thedrama.How, then?Forexample:
a
stage hunting scene? It would not be theatrical.
A celebration?Too banal.A battle
withtheAfricanpirates?It wouldn'tbe too amusing.Preparations forwarwitheither
PisaorVenice?
On this subject,I recalltwo wonderfullettersby Petrarch,one writtento Doge
Boccanegra, theotherto theDogeof Venice,in whichhe saysthattheywerebeginning
a fratricidal
war,sincebothweresonsof thesamemother,Italy,etc.,etc.How sublime
this sentimentof Italyas motherland at thattime!All this is political,not dramatic;
but a creativetalent[un uomod'ingegno]couldwell dramatiseit.20
20
Carteggio Verdi-Ricordi 1880-1881, Pierluigi Petrobelli, Marisa Di Gregorio Casati and
Carlo Matteo Mossa, eds. (Parma, 1988), 70.
Otello, a score Verdi knew extremely well.21 And a prayer, modelled after
a piece on a text by 'Dante', occurs after the 'Willow Song' in Verdi's Otello.
The coincidence can hardly be fortuitous. Whatever the artistic value of this
Ave Maria, its historical relevance seems beyond question. First because it was
not provoked by any external circumstance: both the choice of text and its
actual composition were entirely Verdi's decision. And second because the 'pol-
itical' significance of the piece is strongly connected to the manner in which
Verdi wanted it performed. He insisted that both the Padre nostro and the
Ave Maria should be sung as complementary pieces. In a letter of 30 January
1880, discussing with Giulio Ricordi the concert programme for their premiere,
Verdi stated that: 'So far as the programme is concerned, I want to remain
out of it. I should like only that the Pater and Ave be sung without a break
[di seguito], as if they were a single piece.'22 This is all the more remarkable
considering the sharp contrast in scoring and number of players between the
Pater nostro, an 'a cappella' piece in which - as one gathers from the same
letter - the choral ensemble was supposed to have at least forty singers to each
part, and the Ave Maria, scored for a solo voice, two first and two second
violins, two violas and four 'divisi' cellos. More important than musical coher-
ence was the extra-musical significance these two pieces derived from the auth-
ority of their poetic text; a significance that encapsulated both their truest
meaning and their 'political' function.
The same contrast in scoring and musical style returns at the very end of
Verdi's career, in those Pezzi sacri which were the final manifestation of his
art.23In January 1898, at the time when Boito was preparing the first perform-
ance of the three pieces for Paris, Verdi signaled out in a letter the peculiarities
of each composition. He described the central piece, the piece called today
- with no authority whatsoever - the Laudi alla Vergine Maria, as: 'A prayer
in Italian on the first lines of the last canto of Dante's Paradiso, for four treble
voices [a quattro voci bianche]: a Soprano, a second Soprano, an Alto, a second
Alto.' As for the performance, Verdi added: 'For the Prayer, four solo Artists
will be needed, even though this is a small piece without solos .. . The Prayer
lasts less than five minutes.'24 He was clearly annoyed when Tebaldini, then
Director of the Parma Conservatory, proposed a performancewith a large chorus
of women. The contrast in size and musical style was an essential feature of
these compositions, much as it was for the Padre nostro and the Ave Maria.
There is no need to recall that Verdi wrote the Pezzi sacribasically for himself.
21 Forthe bestaccountof the similaritiesbetweenRossini'sandVerdi'sOtello, seeJulian
22
Budden,The Operasof Verdi(London, 1973-81),III, 303ff.
20-1.
CarteggioVerdi-Ricordi,
23
Forthe purposeof ourdiscussion,I preferto leaveasidetheAve Maria'on an enigmatic
scale',whichhasnowadaysbecomethe firstof the Quattropezzi sacri.In Verdi'slifetime,
andfor sometimeafterwards,it was neverperformedwith the otherthreepieces,which
arethe Stabatmaterandthe Te Deum (bothfor largechorusandorchestra),andbetween
thesetwo hugefrescoeswhatis now calledthe Laudialla VergineMaria,a small
polyphoniccomposition.Todaythis lastpieceis performedby a ratherlargechorusof
24
women, but suchwas not Verdi'sintention.
CarteggioVerdi-Boito,MarioMediciandMarcelloConati,eds. (Parma,1978),I, 253-4.
3 Dallapiccolaand Ulisse
Fifteen years after his death, Luigi Dallapiccola is generally regarded as one
of the most significant, the most 'serious', artists of our century. And he was
'serious' in the sense I tried to outline at the beginning of this essay: he was
a man and an artist who consciously felt the need - one is tempted to say
the duty - to 'read' the times, and life in general, through his art. There is
hardly a composition in which Dallapiccola did not attempt to convey a message,
present a reflection, a meditation on the problems with which man is confronted,
and towards which each individual must take a personal and responsible stand.
This aspect of Dallapiccola's 'seriousness' is clearly reflected, in fact brightly
illumined, in his numerous essays, several of which were written specifically
Ex. 5
lXpmfJ
SIC. trt 7r
r^T ?
yfltfj ri - di
Qui se' a noi me a - na fa- ce di ca - ri - ta- te,
1tO
DJ
$ I. Z 1r r ZI f I
se' di spe - ran - za fon- ta - na vi-va - ce.
p
pt1m p
S J J J PJ~
giu-so,intraimor - ta
h -JI
Iru7J ..-. J -.P
-
-
- -
li, se' di spe - ran - za fon - ta na vi-va ce.
Ex. 5
Stephen: Hm. (He strikes a match and proceeds to light the cigarette with enigmatic
melancholy.)
Lynch: (Watchinghim.) You would have a better chanceof lightingit if you held
the matchnearer.
Stephen: (Brings the match nearer his eye.) Lynx eye.
... Joyce's love for individualwords, so close to love for sound (somethingwhich
music of our time has conqueredagain), can also be observedin the famous French
translation[of Joyce's Ulysses],in which completefidelityto the originaltext was pre-
served.28
This passage is relevant to my main theme for more than one reason. Not
only does it explain the way in which Dallapiccola understood and used the
term 'articulation'; it also indicates some of the themes which return time and
again in his music and his writings. What counts in the excerpt from Ulysses
is the constant return, the almost obsessive use not just of words, but - especially
- of syllables and words of similar sound. The entire passage unfolds as if these
sounds were the basic element, the determining force behind the text; sounds
like 'match - Lynch - watching'; like 'Stephen - strikes - cigarette'; and, of
course, the transformation of 'Lynch' into 'Lynx'. As well as, perhaps even
more than, the semantic function of the text, the articulation of the passage
is determined by these sounds. The same happens in twelve-note composition,
where the contrapuntal articulation of the basic material, the intervallic relation-
ships within the row and during its development, are far more important than
literal repetitions of individual cells.
The Joyce quotation and Dallapiccola's comments are also relevantfor another
reason. When quoting from Joyce's Ulysses, the composer stresses the structural
analogy between the scene in the novel and the Homeric poem in which Ulysses
is the protagonist. Why did he feel it necessary to underline this analogy, when
his main point was elsewhere? The answer can be found in another Dallapiccola
essay, one devoted to the origin of his libretto for Ulisse and dating from 1967,
one year before the opera's premiere. At the beginning of the essay we read
that 'we are not always the ones to choose our texts; rather, it is the texts
that choose us'.29 This statement may at first sound startling, but it is in fact
a pithy and extremely concise description of the cultural process central to
Dallapiccola's entire output.
In the same essay Dallapiccola lists the stages through which the Ulysses
subject 'came' to him. In May 1938 the choreographer Leonide Massine sug-
gested he write a ballet on the subject of Homer's Odyssey; but because of
the outbreak of war the project did not materialise. In 1941 Dallapiccola was
asked by the General Manager of the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino to prepare
a performing edition of Monteverdi's II ritorno di Ulisse in patria, which he
28 'Sullastradadelladodecafonia',Parolee musica,454.
29
'Nascitadi un librettod'opera',in Parolee musica,511-31, here512;a translationof
this essay(not usedhere)appearsin Dallapiccolaon Opera(seen. 26), 232-62.
the realm of human knowledge. Ulysses led his comradesto a sea which no
humanbeing was permittedto enter. Yet Dante'sUlysses has become, at least
in Italianculture, a perfectsymbol of man's searchfor knowledge, and it was
in this sense thatDallapiccolainterpretedthe Homerichero. Clothedin ancient
Greek garments,Ulysses carrieswithin himself all the questionsthat torment
modern man. As Dallapiccolawrote: 'Ulysses' fight is above all a fight with
himself, in that he aspires to the understanding of the world's mystery.'35 Ques-
tioning is, then, the essence of this character; in questioning lies the difference
between him and the Homeric hero; and questioning makes him a man of our
time.
In 1962 Luigi Dallapiccola was appointed fourteenth occupant of the Chair
of Italian Culture at the University of California at Berkeley. At that time he
had already begun Ulisse, his longest and loftiest work, a score that would
be completed five years later in 1967. During his stay at Berkeley he finished
the Preghiere for baritone and orchestra, a piece on texts by Murilo Mendes
whose world premiere took place in Berkeley's Hertz Hall on 10 November
1962. The period also saw work on an orchestral composition commissioned
in 1960 by the New Haven Symphony Orchestra, for which Dallapiccola used
the same basic material on which Ulisse is built. The orchestral piece was per-
formed in Connecticut on 5 February 1963, and bears an English title: Three
Questions with Two Answers.36 It is divided into five sections. The first, third
and fifth sections - the three 'questions' - are related to the opera only in
their basic structural elements: the note row and an obsessive rhythmic figure.
The second episode (the first 'answer') corresponds, at least initially, to the
opening scene of the opera, that of Calypso alone on the seashore. The fourth
episode (the second 'answer') corresponds to another moment in the opera,
the scene of the Kingdom of the Kimmerians, the world of the dead; it describes,
in other words, a descent into Hell. In his essay on the birth of the Ulisse
libretto - we should not forget that the composer was also author of the literary
text of the opera - Dallapiccola explained that this scene is central to the structure
of the entire work.37
In a letter, now lost, to the conductor of the premiere of Three Questions
with Two Answers, Dallapiccola specified that the three questions are: Who
am I? Who art thou? Who are we? But he did not specify what the answers
might be.38 The most cogent metaphor for such questioning is the image of
the mirror; in the mirror the object, the person reflects itself, returns to itself,
much as Ulysses, as symbol of man, asks himself the eternal questions. This
image is recalled in the libretto of the opera through the recurrence of a line
which even in its structure carries the very principle of reflection: 'Guardare,
35 'Nascitadi un librettod'opera',Parolee musica,516.
36
For furtherinformationon thispiece, see my 'Dallapiccola'sLastOrchestralPiece',
Tempo, 123 (1977), 2-6.
37 'Nascitadi un librettod'opera',Parolee musica,527.
38 Seethe Prefaceto the orchestralscore:LuigiDallapiccola,ThreeQuestionswith Two
Answers,per orchestra(1962);publishedby SuviniZerboni,pl. no. S. 8155Z. (Milan,
1977).The composerneverthoughtit appropriate to publishthis score.
Ex. 6
Ex. 6
Ex. 7 3 1
3 J i. J. J J iJ
Ex. 7
This formulais emphaticallyisolatedat the end of the first and third 'ques-
39 See Luigi Dallapiccola, Ulisse, opera in un prologo e due atti. Riduzione per canto e
pianoforte di Franco Donatoni [Opera in two acts with prologue. Adapted for voice and
piano by Franco Donatoni], published by Suvini Zerboni, pl. no. S. 6910 Z. (Milan, 1968),
68.
tions', and returns several times in the opera, always connected with ill-fate,
misfortune,sorrowandsuffering.It is absolutelypredominantin the most nega-
tive of all scenes in the opera,Ulysses' visit to the Kingdomof the Kimmerians
(as mentioned earlier,the centralmoment of the opera), the scene on which
the second 'answer'of the orchestralpiece is modelled.The immediatecounter-
partof questioningis suffering;the one is indissolublyconnectedwith the other.
The two 'answers'have, then, a clearly negativeimplication:solitude, like
that of Calypso, abandonedby Ulisse on the seashore;and eternal sorrow,
which dominatesthe Kingdomof the Kimmerians,the world of the dead. But
it would be wrong to suggest a direct connectionbetween the two 'answers'
and the 'questions' immediatelyprecedingthem, and this for a very precise
reason. We have alreadyseen how Dallapiccola'smind, his way of narrating
events, hardly ever followed chronologicalorder. This was in no way due to
absent-mindedness.On the contrary,it stemmed,I think, from his conception
of time. To returnonce more to the 1950 essay 'On the Twelve-Note Road',
when Dallapiccolawantedto dismissthe notion thatin twelve-notecomposition
all soundshaveequalimportance,he stated:
Even if all twelve tones returneach an equal numberof times, we cannot disregard
a factor of great importance:the moment, that is, the part of the measurein which
one hears the tone. Here time intervenes,time which in this way representsalmost
the fourth dimensionof music. It is quite evident that the meaningof a tone varies,
dependingwhether it falls on a strong or on a weak beat, even if its dynamic and
its duration remain unchanged ... I am fully aware that such differences can be found
also in classicalmusic; but how much subtlerand more delicateis this kind of relation
in twelve-tonemusic!
Subtler and more delicate because it derives from what Dallapiccola calls polari-
ties, poles of tension and relaxation between notes:
The interest of this polarity lies mainly in the fact that it changes(or may change)
from one work to another.A row canpresenta polaritybetweenits firstandits twelfth
tone; another between the second and the ninth; and so on ... It is here that the
factortime, of which I havejust spoken,comesbackwith all its imposingrelevance.40
In such a conception of time, in which the basic material remains the same
despite its different temporal manifestations, past and present, myth and history,
legend and reality are interchangeable. We have here, in other words, an idea
of time that is 'circular'. It is a concept which explains how a person endowed
with such deeply committed awareness of the history of his time, and of belong-
ing to it, could use a legend from the remotest past as the subject for his opus
maximum. Since this legend allowed him to 'read' past and present alike, he
could intermingle the most esoteric cultural elements without giving the impres-
sion of an awkward or contrived mixture. Models for the Hades scene can
be found not only in Homer and Virgil (as well as in Dante, if rather remotely),
but also in works such as Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, from
40 'Sullastradadelladodecafonia',Parolee musica,455.
whose terrifying description of Hell in the Jesuit priest's sermon the choral
exclamation 'Sempre! Mai!' (Ever! Never!) directly derives.41
The descent into Hell is the descent of man into the abyss of his soul. Again
we must recall the 1942 essay on Monteverdi's II ritorno di Ulisse, which opens:
I will not begin with the 'descentto Hell'; it is neverthelessuseful to repe.t here the
beginningof a literarywork which is very dearto me [Dallapiccolarefersto Thomas
Mann'sJosephund seine Briider];it consists of two sentences,the first affirmative,
the secondquestioning:'Deep is the well of the past. Shouldit not be calledinscrutable?'
Certainlya 'descentto Hell' was a necessityfor someonewho intendedto searchinto
the abyssthatmillenniahollowedup.42
For this reason, then, the opera Dallapiccola was to write decades after has
at its centre a 'descent to Hell'.
In looking through the various cultural experiences which Dallapiccola was
ever eager to enlist in his writings, it is certainly surprising - and at the same
time very revealing - that we never encounter the name of, or even a reference
to, Ezra Pound: surprising because the greatAmerican poet explicitly used Dante
as his mentor and guide in the construction of his Cantos, which were conceived
as a sort of contemporary Divine Comedy; and, at the same time, extremely
revealing because, in spite of Dallapiccola's probable disregard for, perhaps
ignorance of, Pound's poetry, the similarity between - one is almost tempted
to say the identical nature of - Ulysses/Odysseus and his 'descent to Hell' is
certainly most striking. In a recent essay on Pound's poetry we read that:
The poem [i.e., the Cantos]plunges into Hades with Odysseus in Canto I, and the
descentis explicitlya figureof a questfor knowledge,a missionto consultwith Tyresias,
the man 'Who even dead yet hath his mind entire.'His messageis: 'Odysseus/ Shalt
returnthroughspitefulNeptune, overdarkseas,/ Lose all companions'.43
The central scene of Ulisse, the visit to Hades, is mainly devoted to the encounter
of the protagonist with the shadow of his mother, Anticlea. When she disappears,
Ulisse says: 'Solo, son solo: un uomo che guarda nel fondo dell'abisso ...'
(Alone, I am alone: a man who looks into the depths of the abyss ...). As
the shadows of the dead return, Tiresia appears among them, and reveals to
Ulisse the prophetic vision of his future.
Ergonsicontrote mostridall'onde:
sul tuo legno la folgores'abbatte...
D'Itacabaciil suolo, ed il figlio e la consorte...
Maquantosangueintorno...
Infine,
solo, ancorti vedo ramingosul mare:
canutosei, canutocome il mare.
Ti cullanl'onde...44
41
JamesJoyce,A Portraitof theArtistas a YoungMan(New York, 1962),119-35, esp.
133.
42 'Perunarappresentazione', Parolee musica,421.
43 JeromeJ. McGann,'The Cantosof EzraPound,the Truthin Contradiction',Critical
Inquiry,15 (1988), 1-25; here5.
44 LuigiDallapiccola,Ulisse,Operain un prologoe dueatti[Libretto](Milan,1972),26.
[Monstersrise againstyou from the waves: / lightningstrikes your boat ... / You
kiss Ithaca's ground and your son and your wife ... / But how much blood around
... / Finally, / I see you alone, wanderingagainat sea: / hoary you are, hoary like
the sea. / The waveslull you ...]
The descent of man into the abyss of his soul is merely a confirmation of
his solitude, a revelation of the monsters which torment him. It is not there
that he can find an answer to the third question, which remains unanswered
in the orchestral piece. In the last scene of the opera, Ulisse, alone in a boat
at sea, finally receives the answer through the revelation of God; a mystical
vision that strongly reminds us of Dante, as protagonist in the Divine Comedy,
in the last canto of Paradiso. Both the printed libretto and the orchestral score
of Ulisse bear on their final page a quotation from St Augustine's Confessions:
'Fecisti nos ad te / et inquietum est cor nostrum / donec requiescat in te' (Thou
hast made us for Thyself / and our hearts are restless / until they find their
rest in Thee), an inscription which 'came' to Dallapiccola in the railway station
of Westport, Connecticut, a year after the libretto was completed. This, then,
is the third, the last, the final answer.45Luigi Dallapiccola was a fervent believer.
He felt the most profound spiritual affinity for Dante and his poetry, and Dante
offered him not only the best possible way of expressing his thoughts, but
- even more important - an answer to the most radical questions which
tormented him as a man of his time.
Monteverdi turned to Dante's poetry for the central episode of Orfeo, when
the hero of his opera enters the world of the dead. Verdi turned to Dante
as a symbol of Italian culture and as author of the most intense and lyrical
prayer, that of St Bernard to the Virgin Mary. Dallapiccola found in Dante
a spiritual mentor, the perfect interpreter of the myth that personifies man's
quest for knowledge. In Spring 1988 the Italian composer Salvatore Sciarrino
completed one of his longest and most important works, Per i cerchi concentrici
for solo instruments and orchestra; and this composition is a sort of musical
'reading' of the Divine Comedy. Time and again, Italian music turns or returns
to Dante; in crucial works or at crucial moments in the career of a composer.
Whether conscious or unconscious, their choice conveys to us an unmistakably
clear message. In an age like ours, in which nothing is certain, in which traditions
and values are constantly questioned and easily set aside, Dante's poetry can
offer to all of us a firm point of reference, a sure way to read and contemplate
our destiny.