Love Potion Numero Uno: Donizetti's L'Elisir d'Amore (The Elixir of Love) and the Quintessence of Comic Opera

(This essay was written for the February 10th, 2012 Opera Company of Brooklyn performance of Gaetano Donizetti's tender comic masterpiece, L'Elisir d' Amore,  at the new Di Menna Center for Classical Music in midtown Manhattan).

       Many are those who are still itching to know how and why Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848) achieved rock-star status in the world of nineteenth century opera. Well, there certainly are a number of enduring reasons to admire  that brilliant composer from Bergamo, Italy.  To begin, Donizetti was master of three  types of musical composition:  choral, orchestral and operatic. He created masterpieces in several Italian and French  operatic genres. He wrote for the Paris Opera, coming through with flying colors in his masterpieces La fille du regiment and La Favorite. Opera lovers who need a dose or two of musical tragedy in their lives can put Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor and Anna Bolena on their “favs’ lists. Posterity includes Donizetti along with his Italian countrymen Gioacchino Rossini and Vincenzo Bellini in that triumvirate of composers who perfected the operatic form known as bel canto, a style of singing that began in the mid- 1700s and reached its apex in the early nineteenth century in the works of these masters.  But it was as a composer of comic opera, opera buffa and opera comica as they are known, that Donizetti shone. His sparkling farces L’Elisir d’Amore (The Elixir of Love or The Love Potion) and Don Pasquale remain fresh, funny and vital to this day, and are among the most popular operas performed, both here and abroad.

Gateano Donizetti

(1797-1848)

     
    In the early 1800s, bel canto opera was all the rage. Bel canto was to music of that era what the best Broadway musicals are today – a popular style with smash hits, and Gaetano Donizetti was its Richard Rodgers.  Donizetti did not invent anything musically new, even though Beethoven was doing just that at the same time as Donizetti was composing. Donizetti did not invent a new operatic style as Wagner was soon to create.  Rather, Donizetti took the musical idiom of bel canto and raised it to its apotheosis. Bel canto incorporated within its rubric several critical and difficult-to-master vocal skills: an impeccable legato throughout the range, a lightness of tone in the higher registers, an ability to dispatch the embellished vocal lines of the fioritura,  a delicate and restrained vibrato, and crystalline, limpid diction. Donizetti's operatic compositions were all in this bel canto style, whether they were great tragic operas like Anna Bolena, Lucrezia Borgia  or Lucia Lammermoor, or the witty and tuneful comedies. He took comic opera, which for over a century had been the very stylized opera buffa with its stock characters right out of the commedia dell'arte  playbook (viz., Pulcinella, Pierrot  and company), and transformed those simple cardboard cut-out figures and that style of music into opera comica, true comic opera, where the characters were real-life people, with real-life foibles, feelings and passions. That was Donizetti's genius and our reward.

    Italians were among the most prolific of all composers. Vivaldi wrote over 700 works, Monteverdi over 200 and likely many more, Rossini over 200 as well, Verdi close to 100, and Donizetti  himself over 500, seventy-five of which were operas!  But the question that needs to be asked is: "Is this composer capable of prolific musical production without sacrificng quality?"  Fortunately for us, in the case of Donizetti, the answer is a resounding  "Yes!" Donizetti's music, especially his operatic music, whether serious or comic, was uniformly of the highest quality.

Felice Romani (1788-1865)
Donizetti's librettist for
Anna Bolena, Lucrezia Borgia
and L'Elisir d'Amore

    As with so many of the great operatic partnerships of composer and librettist (Mozart and da Ponte, Gounod and Barbier,  and Puccini and Illica immediately come to mind), Donizetti was quite fortunate in having the successful and sophisticated Felice Romani as his musical partner.  Romani wrote the libretti for Bellini’s Il Pirata, I Capuleti  e I Montecchi, La Sonnambula  and Norma; for Rossini’s Il Turco in Italia; and for Donizetti’s first major triumph, the 1830 masterpiece Anna Bolena, and Lucrezia Borgia, which premiered in 1833  Romani also wrote a libretto that Verdi later used for his  early opera, the opera comica,  Un Giorno di Regno (King for a Day). Now that’s pretty impressive “credits” for any librettist.

    Donizetti was said to have written L’elisir d’amore in the spring of 1832 in the space of but three weeks;  Romani, wrote the libretto for it in eight days!  Apparently, these feats of compository prestidigitation and pyrotechnics were common at that time. Rossini wrote his brilliant opera,  Il Barbiere di Siviglia  (The Barber of Seville) in a little over  three weeks, prompting Donizetti to yawn to Felice that " that Signor Rossini is so lazy.”!? And there is strong evidence that Donizetti composed virtually the whole final act of his opera La Favorite  in but three hours !

    Then, as now, there were templates in place to make writing librettos and composing operas somewhat formulaic, thus at least partly explaining their speed of composition. The story of L’Elisir did not spring fully formed from Romani’s head, like Athena from the brow of Zeus. Rather, Romani cleverly transcribed and then doctored a libretto that had been previously written by librettist with the very appropriate last name of  Scribe for the 1831 opera, Le Philtre (The Love Potion), by the composer Daniel Auber.

Donizetti's favorite soprano
Eugenia Tadolini
as Adina in the
1842 Naples revival of L'Elisir

     Hmmmmm. So, did Romani and Donizetti plagiarize from Scribe and Auber?  Not really. When one thinks about it, there are only so many story lines to draw from in opera. The usual suspects are the themes of eternal love, mixed up love, mixed up lovers, mistaken identity, infidelity, unrequited love, jealousy, love lost and then found, a mad scene for spice, and, oh yes, someone always dying, either of a dreaded disease, a gunshot wound, or both. These represent most of the core plots which have gotten mashed up and reworked in countless operas over the centuries. With L’Elisir,  Donizetti and Romani were just doing what everybody else in the opera world was doing, especially at the time; to wit, dipping into this minestrone of storylines, borrowing from here, adapting from there, and presto change-o !  you have another opera, this one happening to be a comic masterpiece.

    Donizetti described L’Elisir as a melodramma giocoso. In Italian, the word melodramma does not carry all of the nuanced import that the word  melodrama does in our language.  Melodramma simply means opera in Italian. So a melodramma giocoso is nothing more than the Italian term for a comic opera. However, the opera does begin with a little bit of serious literary history. Our heroine, the wealthy, proud, beautiful  and fickle Adina, is first seen and heard as she reads, then sings and summarily dismisses, the story of Tristan and Isolde. The Tristan legend dates back over a millennium and while there are several versions of the story, in one of which Tristan is mortally wounded, all the variants, prose and poetic, have Tristan and Isolde drinking a love potion, an elixir of love, thus sealing their eternal affection for each other. Adina laughs off the story, saying that thankfully love potions don't exist anymore to ensnare and enslave women's emotions. Little does she know, as the opera unfolds.

     L’Elisir premiered at the Teatro della Canobbiana in Milano on May 12, 1832, after only four rehearsals and to great acclaim, even though Donizetti had confided to Romani on opening night with the famous comment that “it bodes well that we have a German prima donna, a tenor who stammers, a buffo who has a voice like a goat, and a French basso who isn’t up to doing much.”  The musicologist Charles Osborne wrote that the critic of the Gazzetta Privilegiata di Milano felt that “the style of the score is lively, and brilliant. The shading from buffo to serio takes place with surprising gradations and the emotions are handled with musical passion. The orchestration is always brilliant and appropriate to the situation. It reveals a great master at work, accompanying a vocal line now lively, now brilliant, now impassioned.” One of Donizetti’s early composition instructors, Simon Mayr, confirmed that the opera was "inspired throughout with joy and happiness."

Dr. Dulcamara comes to town
hawking his magical elixirs of love
in the 1968 "Wid West"
 Cincinnati Opera production

    The names of many of the principals in L’Elisir were purposely chosen by Donizetti and Romani to relate to love. As the etymological sleuths of the San Francisco Opera education department have uncovered, Belcore means “good heart” or “beautiful heart” (derived from bel  cuore in Italian);   Adina is Hebrew for “refined or gentle;”  Dulcamara is a combination of the Latin words  for “sweet” (dulcis, dulce)  and “sour” (amarus, amara), adjectives which certainly define its owner;  and Gianetta likely stems from  Gianna, which is Hebrew for “gracious.” Only Nemorino has a name which is curiously not love-related. Nemorino means “the little nobody,” and stems from “nemo,”  the Latin word for “nobody” or “no one.” Indeed, for much of the opera, almost until the final glorious moments when he and Adina unite, Nemorino is portrayed by Donizetti and Felice as a “nobody.” In addition, there is a nice symmetry in the first names of both the composer and the librettist of this operatic love story: "Gaetano" is related to the word "gaiezza," which means "happiness," and  "Felice" means "happy."  How serendipitous is that !

    Now let us not necessarily judge a hero by his first name, for Nemorino, while his name evidently doesn't mean very much at all, is a truly inspired character, a grand hero of the stature of Tristan and Romeo. Nemorino's heart-breaking second act aria, Una Furtiva Lagrima (A Single, Hidden Tear), with that plaintive introduction by the bassoon and echo by the clarinet, is so well known that it has become an emblem for all of opera (okay, okay, an emblem  for all of opera along with Puccini's Nessun Dorma from Turandot). Even musical novices can sing Nemorino's aria (despite it being in the distant key of Bb minor, the relative minor of an equally distant key, Db major):

The words to Una Furtiva Lagrima are so famously beautiful, so lyrical in the original Italian, and so poignant in any language that they deserve to be memorialized here (the English translation is mine):

Una furtiva lagrima negli occhi suoi spuntò: Quelle festose giovani invidiar sembrò. Che più cercando io vo? M'ama! Sì, m'ama, lo vedo. Un solo istante i palpiti del suo bel cor sentir! I miei sospir, confondere per poco a' suoi sospir! I palpiti, i palpiti sentir, confondere i miei coi suoi sospir... Cielo!  Si può  morir! Di più non chiedo, non chiedo Ah, cielo! Si può! si può morir! Di più non chiedo, non chiedo Si può morire! Si può morir d’amor.

A single, hidden tear began to form in her eyes: She seemed to be envious of those playful youths. What more do I need to look for? She loves me! Yes, I see that she loves me. If only for an instant to feel the beating Of her beautiful heart! My sighs for a moment melded fleetingly with hers ! To feel her heart beating, beating, My sighs melded with hers as one... Heaven ! Yes, I could, I could die! I do not ask for more. Oh, heaven ! Yes, I could! Yes, I could die!  I do not ask for more, I do not ask Yes I could die. I could die of love.

    The aria was so indelibly essayed by the great Italian tenor Enrico Caruso that the Metropolitan Opera revived L'Elisir just for him in 1904 at the old opera house on Broadway and 39th street.

Enrico Caruso (1873-1921)

when he recorded Una Furtiva Lagrima

in 1904, as heard in this youtube

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t936rzOt3Zc

    And in our own time, Luciano Pavarotti defined the role of Nemorino as no one else could have.   

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fh2Vh8jwyQA

    They say that Donizetti got ill in 1843 and went to Paris for treatment. They say that he was manic-depressive and may have contracted syphilis. They say that he died insane in 1848, at the age of 51, back in Bergamo at the home of friends. What posterity can say is the following:  that opera conjured by the masterful musical alchemist Gaetano Donizetti became a coruscating diamond, a jewel which still dazzles. He crafted a king's ransom of operatic treasures of  such poignant tragedy and comic happiness which continue, almost two hundred years later, magically to resonate in our hearts and spirits today. Bravo, Gaetano, Bravissimo!

Copyright 2012  Vincent de Luise MD   A Musical Vision

A Block Island Reverie: Thirty Years of Journeys, Trips and Vacations to Rhode Island's Jewel

(This essay was written for the March 2012 gallery exhibit on Block Island which I curated at the Woodbury, CT  Public Library)

"....Then is that lonely island fair;

And the pale health-seeker findeth there

The wine of life in its pleasant air...."

                                              John Greenleaf Whittier
                                           "The Palatine" (1867)

    Block Island, that tiny tear drop-shaped island jewel in the Atlantic, always beckons. Although Block Island begins and ends as a physical space, lying thirteen miles south of Point Judith, Rhode Island, and fourteen miles east of Montauk Point, New York, and deservedly  (if unwittingly) wearing the nickname "The Bermuda of the North," it is nevertheless as much  concept as  reality. Block Island is a place one longs for as well as visits, a state of mind in addition to a place for the body. 

    For over a century, Block Island has been a popular summer vacation spot and  destination for tourists and travelers, weekenders and daytrippers, revelers and romantics, a place that is close enough from much of southern New England to get to in a morning's travel, but far enough away that one knows that they have journeyed to somewhere else. The reason why Block Island is such a beautiful island retreat is that it is at once a natural treasure, containing a unique and fragile ecosystem. These seeming contradictions are Block Island's most sublime quality, that it can simultaneously display these disparate pleasures.



Crescent Beach, looking North
to beautiful and secluded
Mansion Beach

There is a deep and enduring beauty about Block Island, a lyrical beauty that has often been written about and photographed, but never completely captured or encapsulated. Block Island is not the ostentatious and easy beauty of Miami Beach, though her Crescent Beach vies with the East Coast’s best. Block Island is not the visceral beauty of the Grand Canyon, though looking down from Mohegan Bluffs to the pounding surf of the Atlantic Ocean can grip the imagination just as forcefully. Block Island is not the awesome beauty of Niagara Falls, though navigating the cut above North Light can be equally exhilarating and treacherous. Block Island is not the majestic beauty of the Rockies, though climbing to the top of Pilot Hill and seeing the coastal contours of three states at once is just as remarkable. Block Island is its own special place.

    For almost thirty years, our family has sojourned on Block Island. Our children have grown up frolicking on its sandy beaches, caressed by those soft, omnipresent zephyr winds, hiking its Clayhead trails, holding its tidal periwinkles and starfish in their hands and marking each summer season with a trip to "the Block," all the while internalizing and revering the Island's unique and tenuous beauty; and their future children will in turn someday inherit their own pride of place in this wondrous space.

    Geologically, Block Island is but an after-thought, an appendix to Earth’s grand and ancient story, a speck of land at the mouth of Long Island Sound that represents a small fragment of recessional moraine that was left by the receding glaciers of the last Ice Age. That event took place around 20,000 years ago, during what is known as the Laurentide glacier retreat of the Wisconsonian glaciation. The land masses destined to be Block Island, Martha’s Vineyard, the Cuttyhunk Islands, Nantucket and the eastern forks of Long Island all formed then, from similar erosive forces of nature, fully separating from the mainland of New England over 8,000 years ago. Of these islands, Block Island alone lay claims to one of nature's great gifts – that certain animals and plants survive, even thrive, within her shores, and almost nowhere else on Earth.

Block Island Meadow Vole
Microtus pennsylvanicus provectus

     Block Island is arguably the most significant biological niche in the Northeast, whose unique ecology supports a remarkable variety of wildlife, including over forty species classified as either rare or endangered. Thousands of migratory shorebirds, waterfowl, raptors, and song-birds sojourn on Block Island as a stopover point on their journey north and south along the Atlantic Flyway. Acres of rare grasses and iconic beach roses (Rosa rugosa) grow and flourish among the protected dunes around the Island

Beach Rose
Rosa rugosa

     It has been said that there are as many natural ponds on Block Island as there are days in the year. Indeed, over three hundred fifty ponds dot the Island, almost all of them so-called "kettle pots" or "kettle ponds," a result of glacial scouring, hollowing and melt, which provide a home and refuge for green frogs and peepers, red-spotted newts and spotted turtles, eastern painted turtles and diamondback terrapins. According to the US Fish and Wildlife Service, "there is speculation that some of these may be distinct subspecies, since they have been separated from mainland populations for at least 8,000 years." One wonders whether these fauna were indigenous, or brought over from the mainland either by the Naragansetts or subsequent settlers. Notwithstanding the specific source of their origin on the Island, the fact that such a diversity of animal and plant life thrives on such a tiny piece of land as Block Island is testimony to its uniqueness and importance.

Great Salt Pond, an aerial view
The breach into the Atlantic can be
seen in the top left of the photograph

  The largest freshwater pond on Block Island is Fresh Pond, which has been a source of potable water since the time of the Naragansetts, the native Americans who had colonized it over two millennia ago.

  Great Salt Pond, as evidenced by its name, is no longer a true freshwater pond, because it has been breached into the Atlantic. The breach of Great Salt Pond happened episodically over centuries during fierce storms, and then purposefully, when after numerous attempts, a cut was finally properly and permanently dredged in the northwest corner of the Pond in 1895.  This allowed commercial ships and, these days, pleasure craft of all styles and sizes, to be harbored in its commodious and protected waters.

Piping Plover

Charadrius melodus

    Since the 1960s, all of Block Island's biota and almost half of its open space have become permanently protected. This us a result of enlightened stewardship and the tireless political efforts of many concerned and philanthropic Islanders, as well as by several far-reaching and visionary statutes from Providence (the capital of the state of Rhode Island, not a kingdom of heaven, though both may be correct in this case).

Regal Fritillary Butterfly

        Speyeria idalia Drury

      Endangered world-wide

     Block Island's delicate ecosystem has been designated as one of thirteen "Last Great Places" by The Nature Conservancy, which has identified "Block Island as more than just home to rare and endangered plants and animals. It also supports a vibrant, active human community with a strong sense of its cultural and natural heritage. The overwhelming local commitment to conservation inspired The Nature Conservancy to name Block Island one of thirteen “Last Great Places” in the Western Hemisphere. With the hard work of many individuals and an assembly of conservation organizations, almost half of the Island is now protected; protected for plants, animals, and people in perpetuity.

North American burying beetle
Nicrophorus americanus

  Among the rare and endangered animal species found on Block Island are the North American burying beetle (Nicrophorus americanus), the Regal fritillary butterfly (Speyeria idalia Drury), the Block Island meadow vole (Microtus pennsylvanicus provectus), and the piping plover (Charadrius melodus). These are examples of unique species which live virtually nowhere else on Earth. Recent genetic evidence supports the thesis that some of these animals actually represent separate species, given that Block Island has been separated from the mainland for over 8,000 years, enough time to allow for speciation to occur.

     Archaeological findings document that Block Island has been inhabited for over two milennia. The Narragansett Indians, a branch of the Algonquin, were the native Americans who populated the Island prior to the first English settlers, calling it Manisses, which means "Island of the little Manitou" (Manitou is Algonquin for "life-force" or "spirit"). The Narragansetts made their settlement near the southern shore of Great Salt Pond. The numerous quahog shell middens excavated there underscore that it was a rich and fertile area, a veritable "Garden of Eden of natural resources" according to an archaeologist who has studied the area.

   In 1524, the Italian explorer Giovanni da Verrazzano, sailing in the employ of the French Court, sighted the Island and named it Claudia, in honor of Claude, Duchess of Brittany, queen consort of France and the spouse of Francis I. However, several contemporaneous maps of the era identify the same island as Luisa, after Louise of Savoy, the Queen Mother of France and the mother of Francis I. Verrazano never landed, but described Claudia (Luisa) as he sailed past as being  " full of hills, covered with trees, well peopled for we saw fires along the coast...."

The Blaeu Map of 1635
showing "Adrien Blocs Eylandt"
("Adriaen Block's Island")

     In 1614, Block Island was charted by the Dutch explorer Adriaen Block, who began to trade with the Narragansetts, and then named it for himself. (It remains a mystery if Captain Block ever saw any maps with Claudia or Luisa on them). However, finely detailed Dutch maps of the early seventeenth century do show a "Block Island" (see above), indicated as "Adriaen Blocs Eylandt" ("Adrian Block's Island"). Block also named one of the islands in Narragansett Bay as "Rood ("Red") Island." The name "Rood" or "Rhode" stuck as the name of the future state, Rhode Island. That same Adriaen Block is also remembered today as the first European settler to build a house on another island,  that of Manhattan, near what is now Wall Street.

    It does not appear that Block or his crew actually landed on Block Island. That distinction was earned adversarially, as an expedition of twenty men from Boston and environs arrived on Block Island sometime in the spring of 1636, to retaliate against the Narragansetts for killing a certain John Oldham, and the Island was thus made a part of the Massachusetts Bay Colony.

An early map of New England

showing Block Island
 (Homann, Nuremburg, 1716)

    Later, in 1661, a group of sixteen settlers from the Providence area sailed over from Rhode Island, and purchased the island. As these settlers' philosophy and mores were more consonant with those of their peers in Rhode Island, Block Island subsequently became part of the colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations in 1672. Soon thereafter, the Island government adopted the name New Shoreham for both the Island itself and for its only town, the lovely, Victorian-styled port area framed by Old Harbor and its charming streets, evocatively called Water, High, Spring, Dodge, Weldon's and Chapel.

   Block Island's maritime geography can be likened at times to the sirens of Greek mythology, at once beautiful but also treacherous. Over the centuries, there have been numerous shipwrecks off her shores, in particular on a submerged spit of land that carries forth from the northernmost part of the island called Sandy Point (termed the "Hummock" in earlier times), and an equally dangerous area around the southeast coast, just off-shore from the Mohegan Bluffs.

    It was near that northernmost spot that the so-called "spirit-fire ship" Princess Augustus (also known as "The Palatine") got marooned in 1738, spawning John Greenleaf Whittier's elegiac but somewhat deprecating poem about the Island and its inhabitants, "The Wreck of the Palatine" (1867), which engages the reader from among its first lines:

"....Circled by waters that never freeze

Beaten by billow and swept by breeze

Lieth the island of Manisses...

When the hills are sweet with the brier-rose,

And, hid in the warm, soft dells, unclose

Flowers the mainland rarely knows....

No greener valleys the sun invite,

On smoother beaches no sea-birds light,

No blue waves shatter to foam more white..."

Southeast Light, which in 1993 was
moved about 250 feet from the bluffs,
emblematic of BI's conservancy

  Today, two majestic and powerful lighthouses, the granite-hewn North Light (1867) and the red-brick Southeast Light (1873), identify those two insidious areas on the Island's coast, alerting modern-day sea captains of submerged perils. Both lighthouses have been lovingly maintained over the years. In 1993, the Southeast Light, a National Historic Landmark, was lifted and moved two hundred fifty feet back from the cliffs of the Mohegan Bluffs, sparing it from otherwise collapsing down into the Atlantic for at least one hundred years. The bulk of the two million dollar project was raised by private donations from islanders, vacationers and committed citizens, whose collective effort is in the great spirit of Block Island philanthropy and conservancy.

The granite-hewn North Light (1867)

    Just as Nantucket, Martha's Vineyard and the other so-called "Outer Lands"  (Cape Cod, Long Island and the islands)  in the North Atlantic have their own interesting stories and memorable individuals, so too does Block Island have its share of fascinating tales and colorful characters. One of the most remarkable was Edward Searles (1841-1920), interior designer, architect, dreamer, visionary, eccentric multimillionaire and builder of one of Block Island's most singular edifices.
   
   Edward Francis Searles was born in Methuen, Massachusetts, and apprenticed with the renowned design firm Herter Brothers in NYC in the 1870s. He soon found himself advising on the decoration of the mansions of the rich and the famous, and apparently of the widowed as well.

    It so happened that in 1881 Searles was sent out to San Francisco by Herter Brothers to assist a certain Mrs. Mary Francis (nee Sherwood) Hopkins in the decoration of her new home. Mrs Mary Sherwood Hopkins just happened to be THE Mrs. Mark Hopkins, the widow of Mark Hopkins, the San Francisco railroad magnate. Mrs. Hopkins was finishing her mansion atop Nob Hill  (the site of the current Mark Hopkins Hotel; her mansion was destroyed in the three day fire after the 1906 earthwuake) and found a kindred spirit in design and the arts in Mr. Searles.

     Evidently Mrs. Hopkins was pleased with Mr. Searles' work in San Francisco because she helped Searles secure a second commission in 1885, this time for the interior design of another of her  baronial mansions, a jewel of an edifice in her birthplace of Great Barrington, Massachusetts. The stone mansion, which came to be known as Kellogg Terrace (and is now reincarnated as the Dewey Academy for Boys), was, then as it is now, a masterpiece of gothic and neo-renaissance architecture. 

The close and constant companionship between Mr. Searles and Mrs. Hopkins in the Kellogg Terrace project led to a more intimate friendship, and then, perhaps inevitable given their kindred spirits, a May-September romance, as the sixty-eight year old Mrs Hopkins was twenty-two years Searles' elder (and one of the earlier cougars on record). On November 7, 1887, the perpetual bachelor Mr. Searles married the wealthy widow of the railroad magnate, Mrs. Hopkins. 

   Searles then really went to work, adding a host of truly baroque additions to Kellogg Terrace, including a giant nave on its west side which was planned as the music hall, outfitting it with one of the largest pipe organs ever built in a private residence in the United States. 

    While Searles was finishing the interiors of the Great Barrington mansion, he bought several large parcels of land on Block Island's Corn Neck, originally amounting to almost sixty-five acres, extending from the Great Salt Pond to the Atlantic. It was there, at the north end of Crescent Beach, that  he built his "Dream House" as he called it, the opulent mansion then known as "White Hall."  

   Mr and Mrs Searles must have developed very different and individual tastes because, as the photo below shows, Mr. Searles had his architect, the brilliant Englishman Henry Vaughn (who brought over English Gothic style and popularized the Gothic Revival style of architecture), design the mansion with two gigantic, identical, and bilaterally symmetrical "His and Hers" wings, separated from each other by a massive two-story central hall complete with a grand staircase! 

The wood and stone structure was so big and of such a bright white color from its rusticated wood that it could be seen by ships from miles away, actually appearing as a point of interest on nautical maps of the time ("white ho' flat-top" - the "flat top" monicker because Searles had the cupola (see below)  removed along the way). White Hall soon became known locally by Block Islanders as the "Mansion House," and that part of Crescent Beach was thus re-christened "Mansion Beach."

White Hall in 1888
The so-called "Mansion House" or Searles Mansion
right after its completion. Note the cupola on top.

    After Mrs. Hopkins-Searles' death in 1891, Mr. Searles largely abandoned the Mansion House. However, his inheritance of 21 million dollars (the equivalent of approximately 400 million in today's dollars!) and vast real estate holdings, allowed him an even freer reign to design and build several other similarly extraordinary properties, to wit, the two fantastic castles he conjured and then actualized with Henry Vaughn: Pine Lodge, in Methuen, Massachusetts, in 1910, and Stanton Harcourt Castle, a few miles up the road,  in Windham, New Hampshire, in 1915, where he found the property and estate taxes to be less onerous.

    Searles himself passed away in 1920, and his Block Island Mansion House lay largely abandoned, becoming the episodic location of unofficial drinking parties and dances during and after prohibition. The town of New Shoreham bought the property in 1929 and subsequently sold it several years later to a certain Oliver P. Rose. 

    It changed hands a few times after that, and in the mid-1950s, , Ernest Pollien of Westport, Connecticut, who had been buying and selling Block Island properties for several years, purchased the Mansion House and made a credible attempt at rescuing it, refinishing it and rehabilitating it  as a holiday retreat. The Mansion House continued on for a while longer, and then, one night in April 1963, it mysteriously burned to the ground. Arson was suspected, but no one has ever been implicated.

White Hall, aka The Mansion House
The cupola was removed after being hit by lightning.
The building mysteriously burned to the ground in 1963.

     Today, all that remains of the once imposing Mansion House are parts of the two brick pediments where the entrance had been, and a bit of the foundation, on which everyone who can get there early enough in the morning parks their cars or SUVs, and walks down to, where else?, Mansion Beach! 
(you can read more about the Mansion House, White Hall, at
http://amusicalvision.blogspot.com/2014/07/searles-folly-story-behind-block.html 

    Another Block Island tale concerns the privateer William Kidd, yes, Captain Kidd himself ! The story goes that Kidd and his buccaneers visited Block Island several times in the late 1690s. Kidd was said to have buried some treasure on Block Island, and given the island's isolated position at the mouth of Long island Sound, this is certainly a possibility. Over the centuries, numerous attempts to find said buried treasure have been mounted. According to Block Island historian Ethel Colt Ritchie, what used to be called the Old Road, past the Harbor School House, has been one site of these digs for "buried treasure," all of which so far have come up empty.

William Kidd
(1645-1701)
"Captain Kidd"
Did he bury gold on Block Island in 1699?

    But Kidd and his men did anchor their sloop, the San Antonio, on Block Island, sometime in 1699, in what is now the Old Harbor area, and according to several reliable accounts, they were given provisions there by a certain Mrs. Mercy Raymond (nee Sands). For her kindnesses, Kidd asked Mrs Raymond to hold out her apron, and he filled it with gold coins and jewels. After her husband passed away, Mrs Raymond moved her family to the area of Montville Connecticut, where she bought an enormous parcel of land and the family was said to have been "enriched by the apron."

A view of a Victorian Building
from Rebecca's Statue on Water Street

   Block Island is informed by all of these many fascinating and intriguing aspects, an island haven with rare and unusal fauna and beautiful flora, a quirky past history, a big red-brick lighthouse that was actually lifted up and moved, and possibly even some buried treasure waiting to be discovered. However, Block Island is unique and wondrous in so many other ways, perhaps quotidian, yet even more indelible: there are no traffic lights on the Island; bicycling and walking are the most common modes of transportation; moss-covered low stone walls still demarcate many property lines as they did over three centuries ago; there is a view of water, either of ponds or of the ocean, from virtually any spot on the Island; there are no garish chain stores or marquees to spoil its rural character (however there are three ice cream parlors to delight the palate); virtually all of the town architecture is Victorian.

The Spring House porch, as captured
by Mary Harty and Peter de Rosa in
American Vision, 1981

     The Narragansetts had it right. The "God of small things" lives and plays on Block Island, frolicking in its waters and rejoicing within its vales. Block Island remains this remarkable, pristine and special place, a psychic space really, a sanctuary somewhere over the rainbow, a rare and magical natural kingdom that actually exists, and will continue quietly co-existing, with our precious Earth.

copyright 2012 Vincent de Luise, M.D.  A Musical Vision

http://amusicalvision.blogspot.com/2014/07/searles-folly-story-behind-block.html 

Gounod (and Shakespeare and Bernstein) in Love: Through the years with Roméo et Juliette

(This essay appeared in the program book of Opera Company of Brooklyn's concert performance of Roméo et Juliette by Charles Gounod. I am indebted to the writings and scholarship of Professor Jeffrey Langford, Assistant Dean for Doctoral Studies and Chair of the Music History Department at Manhattan School of Music. With Dr. Langford’s permission, I have included several sections of his chapter, Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette: Rewriting Shakespeare,  from his engaging book, Evenings At The Opera, Amadeus Press, NY, 2011. Professor Langford’s sections are acknowledged where they appear.   VPD)

                                                 

 

Charles Gounod in 1859,
the year of  Ave Maria
and the premier of Faust

    Is French opera, like truffles and foie gras, an acquired taste? If French opera is qualitatively  different from its Italian and German siblings, and it is, it most certainly contains its own unique and undeniable charms. Those who have been brought up and schooled in the lively and melodic world of Italian opera, with its rhythmic cadence and recitative, its easily rhyming vowel-rich language and its showy, florid and ornamented arias, the folksy but noble German Singspiel tradition, or the power and intensity of Wagnerian opera, should take the time to enjoy the nuanced and refined flavors of the French form. For French opera is indeed one of the world's great and enduring operatic traditions, beginning with the seventeenth century Baroque masterpieces of Rameau, Charpentier and Lully, which led to the highly stylized operas of Christoph Willibald von Gluck in the eighteenth century, and later, those of Luigi Cherubini. These works were followed by the establishment of the grand French operatic style by Gioacchino Rossini, whose Guillaume Tell (William Tell) singularly begat the genre, and the subsequent and splendid opéras lyrique and comique of George Bizet and Jacques Offenbach.

     That specific operatic style, termed grand opéra in French, was taken to its artistic heights in the mid-1800s in the majestic works of Giacomo Meyerbeer and Hector Berlioz.  French grand opéra contained everything that the adjective "grand" suggests: noble and heroic dramas with themes that explicate deep and basic truths, large orchestras with even larger casts outfitted with over-the-top costumes acting on splendorous stages and outsized sets (at the Paris Opéra), and to top it off, something quintessentially French, lots and lots of of ballet interludes.  It remains more than a curiosity, though, that the grandest of these grands opéras français were written by foreigners - Meyerbeer was German, and Rossini and Giuseppe Verdi, the latter whose five-act  (and over four hour !) opera  Don Carlos was arguably the most iconic French grand opéra of all, were Italian.

     It was into this rich and nationalistic operatic tradition that Charles Gounod found himself.  Gounod was born in Paris in 1818, of a pianist mother and an artist father. He graduated from the Paris Conservatoire in 1839, beginning his career as a church organist. He had some early successes composing sacred music, notably a Messe Solennelle (Solemn Mass), first performed in 1854. Gounod was particularly drawn to the music of two earlier composers, Giovanni Palestrina and J.S. Bach, and it was to a setting of a Bach work (the C major prelude BWV 846) that Gounod wrote his famous Ave Maria in 1859. However, his attention had already begun to turn to opera, having been convinced by his good friend, the mezzo-soprano Pauline Viardot, that composing operatic music would be a surer (and perhaps quicker) way to fame and fortune.

(Professor Langford):  "Gounod’s first attempts at this new genre took the form of grand opéra in the style of Meyerbeer, the reigning king of serious French opera in the middle of the nineteenth century. But Gounod soon found he had little predilection for this style of opera, so he quickly switched tracks and invented a new kind of opera that relied less on scenic spectacle and massed choral effects, concentrating on the musical exploration of individual characters. This new, more personal kind of opera was called opéra lyrique, and its first manifestation was Faust in 1859. These operas were first staged at a new theater in Paris, the Théâtre Lyrique  (Théâtre-Lyrique Impérial du Châtelet), designed as a venue that would be an alternative to both the large scale serious works at the Paris Opéra and to the lightweight comedies produced at the Opéra Comique (Salle Favart).^{1  "}

    In 1859, that same year of his Ave Maria, Gounod made an indelible mark with what would become his magnum opus, his opera Faust, a work which he composed with the librettists Michel Carré and Jules Barbier to a text by Goethe. Faust made Gounod quite famous and very wealthy, akin to a nineteenth century Richard Rogers or Andrew Lloyd Weber. Faust was and remains the most performed opera in France, even more popular than Bizet’s Carmen, and in France alone has enjoyed almost three thousand performances since its premier. Gounod soon followed up this great triumph with two more popular and successful operas; the first was a little known work, Mireille in 1864, and the second was the sublime masterpiece which Gounod finished in 1867, Roméo et Juliette.

   Given that Gounod again had the same talented and effective team of Carré and Barbier as his librettist partners was certainly a good omen that these two operas would be just as successful as Faust. For their part, Carré and Barbier chose well their subject matter for that second opera, the theme of undying and tragic love.  They settled on the story of Romeo and Juliet, which had earlier in the century  already  seen  musical fame with Giovanni Bellini’s 1830 bel canto masterpiece, I Capuleti e I Montecchi (The Capulets and The Montagues) and with Berlioz’ dramatic choral symphony of 1839, Roméo e Juliette. Gounod was already very taken by Berlioz’ music, and paid homage to Berlioz in his own opera with a similar compositional style, melodic allusions and thematic rhythm. (Berlioz also preceded Gounod with a composition in 1828 on the Faust legend, which was a “dramatic legend” (or “concert opera”) entitled  Le Damnation de Faust ).

(Professor Langford):  "The first indication of Gounod’s appreciation of Berlioz and of his homage of the symphonic Roméo et Juliette occurs at the very beginning of his (Gounod’s) opera. It begins, like Berlioz’ symphony, with what might be described as a programmatic overture, an overture that depicts, through instruments alone, an important dramatic element in the story: the opening street battle in Act 1 of Shakespeare’s play…. Beyond the similarity of the two overtures lies another far more striking parallel between Gounod’s opera and Berlioz’ symphony; their inclusion of Shakespeare’s Prologue, which includes those famous lines at the very opening of the play:^{1  "}

Two households both alike in dignity

(In fair Verona where we lay our scene)

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean¹

 

    Indeed the closest and most direct inspiration for the Roméo et Juliette story, which Carré and Barbier adapted as the libretto for Gounod, was William Shakespeare’s 1595 tragic play Romeo and Juliet. Unlike Berlioz, Carré and Barbier hewed very closely to Shakespeare’s version of the tale of the star-crossed lovers, employing in many places the French translation of the exact lines of the Bard of Avon. 

    Yet the original source of the story of Romeo and Juliet dates back much farther, over a century earlier, to a serpentine series of adaptions of an original 1476 Italian novella entitled "Mariotto and Giannozza" by the pseudonymous Masuccio Salernitano.  Salernitano (1410 – 1475), whose real name was Tomasso Guardati, was born in Sorrento, near Naples, Italy As Wiki tells us, Guardati gained much fame from the publication of his book Il Novellino (The Beginner), which contained fifty short stories, essentially a series of morality fables, the thirty-third of which was the tale of two adolescent lovers, titled Mariotta e Gianozza. This story was subsequently renamed and adapted by Luigi da Porto in the early 1500s as Giulietta e Romeo, ossia, Historia novellamente ritrovata di due nobili amanti (Juliet and Romeo, or, A newly rediscovered history concerning two noble lovers).  Da Porto’s work begat another version, this time by a certain Matteo Bandello, which in turn inspired the poet Arthur Brooke to do an English translation in 1562 called “The Tragicall  Historye (sic) of Romeus and Juliet,” which was (finally!) the source that was pivotal to Shakespeare, who read it and  adapted as a play, Romeo and Juliet, finishing his manuscript in 1595.

    Even though Carré’s and Barbier’s libretto hewed close to the original Shakespeare, they were obligated in many places to cut large sections out of the play  to fit the much fewer words needed for the operatic arias and to blend specific words with the music that Gounod was composing.  This in turn led to excising several important scenes from the play, and to meld other scenes together. For example, Carré and Barbier repositioned certain events that occur at the very beginning of Shakespeare’s work and placed them as a group in a party scene that starts the opera. They also wrote some new text for Juliet to sing at the point where she says is considering wedding a suitor named Count Paris, for which Gounod responded with a brilliant aria.

(Professor Langford):  "Juliet says no to marriage because she wants to live the intoxicating dream of youth a little longer. For this new text, Gounod penned the famous aria “Je veux vivre,” a brilliant waltz tune, and one of the most popular arias he ever wrote. And no one seems to care that it is not exactly in keeping with the character of Shakespeare’s Juliet.^{1  "}

     The framework of Roméo et Juliette, its “backbone” as Professor Langford suggests, is built upon the four “duets” between the two lovers. These are more correctly termed arias, in which each singer alternates their feelings for the other in song. This is particularly evident in the Act 2 balcony scene (the one with Shakespeare’s famous lines “But soft, what light through bedroom window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun!”) It is a testament to Gounod’s skill as a musical dramatist, much like his older colleague and mentor Berlioz, to have been able to impart such passion and intensity of feeling with simple melodies for these arias. And in so doing, Gounod perpetuated a compositional style, directly inherited from Berlioz,  that continued an important aspect of French Romantic music through the nineteenth century.  Gounod brilliantly uses these various melodies in Roméo et Juliette as leitmotifs (recurrent motifs) which reappear throughout the opera, especially in the sublime fourth act bedroom scene and the climactic fifth act tomb scene.

(Professor Langford): "The repetition of this theme in the tomb scene recalls all the earlier scenes in which it played a prominent part – the prologue and the bedroom scene. The tomb scene thus unites all of the opera’s dramatic themes through this special music: irrational hatred in the prologue, and transcendent love in the bedroom scene. Through the power of music, these themes of hatred and love are juxtaposed here in the tomb scene with the theme of death, in a way that draws connections between all three as only opera can do.^{1  "}

 

(Professor Langford): " By uniting the themes of joy, sacrifice and death in this one tortured moment, Gounod paraphrases the common Romantic understanding of the ecstasy of death, especially death through sacrifice. In this context, the sacrifice of a life produces a joyous release from the pain of uncomprehending world. Romeo and Juliet are only fully able to realize their shared joy in a shared death that releases them from a world of hate. The opera then draws to a close as Juliet stabs herself to a final repetition of the “sacrifice” theme. Here in the tomb scene, these elaborate musical allusions to other moments in the drama form a complex web of melodic relationships that unify the various dramatic themes of the story in a single tragic denouement.¹ 

(Professor Langford): " In recognizing the numerous dramatic themes that run through the Romeo and Juliet story, Gounod astutely called on music to underscore those themes and their connections for his audience. In building the final duet on so much music from earlier in the opera, he created poignant emotional associations that ordinary spoken drama cannot bring to the stage.¹

    The Romeo and Juliet theme has remained fresh, vital and relevant through the centuries.  There are the two classical music favorites  that were inspired by the Shakespeare play - the familiar tone poem by Tchaikovsky of 1886, and a brilliant ballet by Prokofiev, first performed in 1935. The story was very successfully resurrected numerous times in the mid-1900s. The tale was re-fashioned as a New York City-centric 50’s love story of the hero and heroine of two rival gangs, the Jets and the Sharks, by composer Leonard Bernstein and lyricist Stephen Sondheim in their 1957 Tony Award-winning musical West Side Story, which contains, inter alia, the anthemic songs “Maria” and “America.” In 1968, Franco Zeffirelli made his vision of Romeo and Juliet into an Oscar-winning film.  Two years later, Erich Segal re-adapted the Romeo and Juliet tale into an Academy award-nominated film as well as a highly successful book, Love Story, and followed that up in 1977 with another book and a film sequel, Oliver’s Story. The theme song to Segal’s Love Story, “Where do I begin,” birthed innumerable covers, from the likes of Tony Bennett and Andy Williams, to Shirley Bassey and Nana Moskouri among many others . That same Romeo and Juliet theme has gone on to inspire innumerable pop music songs, such as The Reflections' doo-wop–inflected "Just Like Romeo and Juliet, " Taylor Swift's "Love Story," and the Dire Straits'
“ Romeo and Juliet.”

    The timeless tale of Romeo and Juliet and their devotion to each other shines on brilliantly. And why should it not?  The concept of omnia vincit amor, that “love conquers all,” is indeed an enduring maxim and a much needed balm to heal the wounds of hatred that still exist around the world, in these difficult times that we live in.

¹Langford, J., Chapter 10: Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette: Rewriting Shakespeare, in Evenings At The Opera. New York, Amadeus Press, 2011, pp. 155-171.

Copyright 2012 Vincent de Luise MD A Musical Vision