Tosca

Puccini's opera Tosca (1900) was the first opera I really got to know. The first opera that I saw in the theatre was Mozart's The Magic Flute, sung in English, but it was Tosca that I watched on video and listened to on LP. And it was Tosca that really got me hooked.

I remember sitting in the circle of the Liverpool Empire Theatre to watch the production by Welsh National Opera. It was the first time I had ever experienced a live orchestra and I can still recall the shivers down the back of my neck when I first heard those opening chords. I still have the programme: 24th November, 1992. I remember that Cavaradossi's painting rolled down from the flies rather than being on an easel; I remember a bunch of plastic candles and the train of Tosca's dress getting caught on them and having to be yanked off; I remember Scarpia carrying a whip; I remember Scarpia laying cushions on the floor before he seduced Tosca. And I remember the thrill, the elation of it all, the genuine excitement of that sound of singers and an orchestra coming together to tell a dramatic story.

Nowadays if you go to the opera, you will usually be able to follow the words being sung as translations are displayed on a screen over the stage (or over your seat): known as surtitles. They are now common practice, although their introduction was not without controversy: would reading the titles distract the audience from what was happening on stage? (Would the audience be distracted anyway if they weren't sure what was happening?) But in 1992, there were no surtitles, and as the opera was sung in Italian, I was reliant on having done my homework to ensure I understood everything. (This is not as difficult as it might sound, as so often the music tells you what is happening, and the music is a useful hook to help you remember what is being sung when. Of course, repeated watching and listening, following the words also helps, as well as helping you to learn some key words in a foreign language.)

Tosca was my first opera, sung with a full orchestra and in a foreign language; it was the first opera I watched on video; it was the first opera I listened to on record (with Colin Davis conducting Montserrat Caballe and Jose Carreras). When eventually I first made it to the Royal Opera House as an extravagant birthday present in 2008, it was Tosca that I saw. And as Cavaradossi, I had my first live experience of Jonas Kaufmann.


Although I had heard his name and caught snippets of him in Carmen when it was broadcast on TV, I was still unprepared for his sheer magnetism and brilliance. He had only recently released his first major album, Romantic Arias, that would then project him to superstar status. I thought I knew Tosca fairly well, until Jonas showed me otherwise. Here, it was clear, was a very important artist and I have tried to see and listen to him as much as possible. It was also clear that the Royal Opera House is a special place, and that it is an opera house of international importance was also made clear. It was a unique, unforgettable experience and one of my most treasured memories.


Since then, I have seen Tosca more than any other opera: in Moscow, in St Petersburg, in Berlin (again with Jonas); in English, in Italian; in a garden; at the Royal Opera House a second time, again with Jonas and an all-star cast in a performance with Angela Gheorghiu and Bryn Terfel that was filmed: the atmosphere in the house on this occasion was particularly electric.


The plot of Tosca is fairly straightforward, and Hamlet-like, practically everyone dies. It was based on a French play by Victorien Sardou, written for the celebrated actress Sarah Bernhardt. The settings of Puccini's opera are three key locations in Rome, and like all good opera tourists, when in Rome I visited the Church of San' Andrea and the Castel Sant' Angelo. (The Palazzo Farnese, where the second act takes place, is now the French embassy and closed to casual visitors.) Although famously condemned in the 1950s by critic Joseph Kerman as being "a shabby little shocker", a good performance of Tosca can be a wonderful evening's entertainment. The music is often thought of as being cinematic, and it certainly has a sweep and urgency, as well as some special effects, that satisfy that claim. (And at just under two hours long, it's about right for a film, too.) Indeed, it is one of the most filmed of all operas, most famously in 1992, when it was filmed and broadcast live across the world at the times and settings mentioned in the story (which meant Placido Domingo was up at dawn to sing e lucevan le stelle from the platform of the Castel Sant' Angelo). And the 1953 recording with Maria Callas, Giuseppe di Stefano and Tito Gobbi is acclaimed as one of the greatest recordings of all time.


Let's look at some of the music in detail. The opera opens with three massive chords which represent Scarpia (although you hear five chords, chords 1 & 2 are the same, and 4 & 5 are the same):



They can be clearly identifies as "Scarpia". They recur when Angelotti first mentions his name:

When he first appears:


At the close of the first act:


And countless other times (including when he's dying, after his death, when he's mentioned in the third act). In a sense, these three chords are a leitmotif (plural leitmotifs or leitmotiv) of Scarpia. A leitmotif is a theme, sometimes only a few notes long, that whenever it is heard recalls a character, or an object, an idea, a place etc. We're probably familiar with the idea now from film scores, but leitmotifs were really developed and elaborated by Wagner in the scores of his operas, most notably in The Ring. A leitmotif is flexible: it changes key, orchestration, tempo to reflect the change in mood. Note how the opening chords of Tosca are mighty, powerful, but when Scarpia is first named, the chords are more subdued, secretive, echoing Cavaradossi's description of Scarpia as a bigot and a hypocrite.

Cavaradossi enters to a theme:


What does this signify? Well, it sounds quite broad, striding, confident; but also sunny, strong. If it represents a side to Cavaradossi, it may well be his rebellious, revolutionary side. It is heard again, more quickly this time, when he refuses to answer Scarpia's questions near the beginning of act two:




and most brilliantly and triumphantly (and in complete revolutionary spirit) when he calls "Vittoria/ Victory!" at the news of the King's defeat by Napoleon:

In the love duet in the first act, Cavaradossi tells Tosca, "what eyes in the world can compare with your dark eyes." The theme seems to be used again in the opera to suggest the love between Cavaradossi and Tosca, and perhaps more specifically, his love for her. Here it is at its first appearance, in the duet:

Their love is clearly on Scarpia's mind, for the theme floats on a clarinet at the opening of act two, while Scarpia is pondering over supper:



And when Cavaradossi recovers after being tortured and sees Tosca, what other theme could he possibly recall:



You can see here how the theme develops: as he comes to his senses and can see her properly, the theme expands onto the strings, giving it a richness and a yearning.

And what of Tosca herself? She first appears to a tune that seems to float. She is coming into church and this theme seems to represent her faith:




for it is heard again, underscoring the central section of her aria Vissi d'arte when she prays to God for mercy. (Quite how Caballe manages to sing those three high notes in one breath, including a decrescendo/ going quieter around the 3 min mark ... well, it's just a marvel.)

The end of act one includes cannon fire and bells. The opening of act three is famous for its Roman soundscape. As the Roman churches announce the early morning call to prayer, bells ring out across the city. Puccini, it is said, sat with his notebook to write the exact sounds of the bells and they are instructed in the score to play at different distances, as if ringing out across the city. Here is the dawn sequence, as the sun rises and the bells ring. This recording plays it much more slowly than usual, but I think there is an intensity and sadness to it, that is wholly fitting: the first time I heard it played this way, I sat up in my chair (again proving that there are things in the score I take for granted) and have always wanted to hear it played live like this ever since.




And so, to Tosca itself.

Here is the production I saw at Covent Garden in 2008 in the performance I also saw in 2011, with Jonas as Cavaradossi, Angela Gheorghiu as Tosca and Bryn Terfel as Scarpia:

Here is the production from the Arena di Verona that was my introduction to opera: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLGkXg3j49s

Not the famous live film, but an earlier film, also with Domingo as Cavaradossi and much of it filmed in Rome:

If you would like to read the original play, links to a translation can be found here: http://www.toscasprism.com/ For a tour of Tosca's Rome from a regular opera blogger, see Zerbinetta's post here: http://likelyimpossibilities.blogspot.com/2011/05/following-toscas-footsteps.html