One great night at the opera: Fidelio at Teatro alla Scala

Milan on December 23, a dark, cold city with sparkly Christmas lights. Beaux Arte style shopping arcades, Gothic style cathedral--French touches in this Italian city. It does not seem much like Rome.

The Duomo at Christmastime, Milan

Before the opera - trumpeters in the windows on Piazza Duomo

play Adeste Fideles for a cheerful shopping-happy crowd

Rattly trams with wooden seats take us to Piazza La Scala. It feels like we are wandering along in the 1890's.

La Scala at night, photo credit: milanozine.it

We have never seen or heard Fidelio, the only opera by Beethoven.  But getting to any opera at Teatro alla Scala in Milan has been on my life list and Fidelio is a bonus.  Maybe because it is the last few days before Christmas, tickets are available.  Trains were full but we got seats.  Everything fell into place well enough and we got to the opera house on time on December 23 for our Christmas gift to ourselves.  The wonderfulness that was this production opened itself to us—the glow of being present and participants in a superb artistic event will last.

Before the curtain went up

We settle in to our seats in Teatro alla Scala surrounded by Italian, French and German attendees. We have only a little time to luxuriate in the beauty of the room before the overture reveals to us the sound quality.  We keep grinning at our good luck.

The audience finding their seats

This was Daniel Barenboim’s last event as musical director of La Scala.  He has been a popular conductor and the musicians of the orchestra were stamping their feet as he emerged onto the podium.  The rush of enthusiasm on the part of the audience as he turned to greet us carried us into the mood of the house.  The syncretism among audience, orchestra and conductor during the long overture revealed to us a musicianship beyond our previous experience.  Our good luck was to be present for a historic performance.

David Barenboim - credit wheremilan.com

Then the curtain rose and voice and visuals were added to the mix.  Perfection got better.

The story is set in a prison in which at least one prisoner is hidden away, imprisoned unjustly.  Our characters are mainly the prison staff.  This production is set in current times so the set reflected concrete walls, prison workers in overalls and workboots.  Hanging laundry framed the entry and introduction of the four key characters of our first half.  Colors and textures of grey concrete, grey and dark colored costumes and a fuzzy pink sweater—all set off by lighting that maintained the feeling of darkness while guiding and allowing us to see each new character as we entered their world.

Jacquino first—working in the mail room but consumed with his sweet, naïve love for Marzelline. Then Marzelline, fond of Jacquino but in love with the newcomer, Fidelio.

Marzelline and Jaquino, credit operatoday.com

Rocco enters, father of Marzelline, generally in charge of the work of the prison as we see it but suffering under a harsh director.  Fidelio struggles in, carrying a heavy box of new chains for the prisoners.

First one, then two, finally all four of these characters sing their internal thoughts in a blend of voices that sent chills up my spine.  Each returned to her/his own theme from time to time in the opera and each maintained the character established in this early aria. Duets, trios or various combinations recurred at key points in the dramatic tension, reminding us of the struggles and heroism of the dramatic action.

Fideleo and Rocco, Jaquino behind - credit tvblog.it

One of my favorite musical forms is close vocal harmony.  This is an opera which uses duets, arias and other close harmony as a key musical form to carry the message.  Light duets of young lovers, deeper and more serious themes of a father's concern for his child, and struggles in an abusive environment are eventually followed by the serious arias and duets in Act 2 when the prisoner Floristan sings of the struggle for justice.  Glorious music, superb voices.  The voices and orchestration follow each other with the orchestra foreshadowing the emotions of the arias.

As the four characters interact, Fidelio’s interest in the prisoners emerges, eliciting the kindness of our key characters as well as the many prison guards who come and go through the set.  Fidelio suggests to Rocco, urged on by the others, to allow the prisoners a day in the spring sun.

The visuals of the pale, ghostly prisoners emerging from the floor in the back of the stage, watched but lightly by the many guards with rods and dogs is matched by the emerging voices of the prisoners gradually swelling with joy at the hope at their opportunity to be in the air and sun.

Prisoners emerge into sunlight - credit milano.reppublica.it

The action is the mixed hope, joy on the part of the prisoners with reaction by the guards who keep them in their places but with a notably light and kindly touch.  I wonder how this scene is played in other productions.  There is scope for much harsher action and emotion on the part of the guards but that remains absent in this production.  Fidelio looks carefully at each prisoner.  Eventually Don Pizarro, the prison governor, enters to put a stop to the joy, introducing the element of evil to the drama.

Rocco’s deep voice and Pizarro’s deep voice blend in a different kind of duet.  Rocco is asked to kill the hidden prisoner, but he refuses.  The price of refusal is, he must prepare the grave.  Fidelio will be allowed to help.

Rocco and Don Pizzaro - credit famigliacristiana.it

Intermission

The scene changes after intermission.  Darker. Bigger blocks and walls of cement.  Virtually no light as the curtain rises.  A voice, a thin shaft of light, a shuffling character in raggy dark clothes singing of his fate, to be unjustly imprisoned for speaking about injustice.  Sublime aria after a dense overture.

Floristan - credit bachtrack.com

Rocco and Fidelio clunk in with their big boots, their shovels and tools. Fidelio and Rocco work at digging the grave; Fidelio keeps trying to see the prisoner.  Rocco defies orders and gives wine and bread to the weak, huddled fellow. Eventually Fidelio sees that it is the one sought.  Fidelio is really Leonore, wife of the prisoner Floristan.  Blended voices as each of the three characters sings their emotions.

Fideleo - credit music-opera.com

Again, the voice of evil enters; the governor arrives to deliver the killing blow.  Each character’s theme and voice create the situation musically before Fidelio reveals herself as Leonore and stops the evil governor from acting.  A distant trumpet sounds, signalling the arrival of Don Fernando, Pizarro’s boss, and Floristan’s friend.

Don Fernando has required a census of all the prisoners, resulting in their release.  More choral music, of prisoners, guards and women (where did they come from?) in a vocal display which filled the house.  The orchestra and chorus have created the audible expression of joy.  We in the audience are swept up.  We two travellers are in heaven.

Don Fernando releases the prisoners - credit gramilano.com

The music and drama draw to a close but the grand feelings continue.  Multiple curtain calls and congratulations for Mr. Barenboim.  Some members of the chorus have been brought forward to be honored with the conductor—we, as outsiders to this city, can only speculate that they are key figures in the opera organization or city life.  But our fellow audience members are wildly clapping and making noise.  The orchestra members are stomping their feet.  Finally, a curtain call for the orchestra musicians—all on stage with their instruments artistically bowing among the blocks of concrete.

One great night at the opera.

Text by Julianne
Uncredited photos by Nancy, who followed the demand of the opera house and didn't take pictures of the performance. Apparently the only person to be so restrained. These pictures found on Google Images.

Lasagna update: Gianicolo Hill after Christmas

We have not had that much to say about lasagna recently although we have had a few good ones.  But today--it was so good it deserves a little blog post of its own.

December 26 is a holiday in Italy and the top of Gianicolo Hill was full of families enjoying the clear sunny mild weather.  Crisp views of the mountains with Rome spread at our feet. Just below the crest of the hill is Antico Arco Ristorante and it is open, unlike most venues in Rome today.

Continuing our recently acquired habit of having white wine for lunch every day, we had glasses of an excellent local white.

The lasagna was made with green beans, cheese, ragu and cloves.  The combination was so unusual and so delicious we hope it is on the menu every day.  The presentation is original to the restaurant, the white sauce and the circular cut to the noodles something we've never seen. The hill is one of our favorite places, easy to get to from our house.  And now lasagna that makes the area a worthy destination all on its own.

The chickpea soup, onion rolls, housemade grissini with hazelnuts were worthy companions to the lasagna.

Buon Natale

Testaccio Market in Rome

Bright sun but cold enough that merchants are closing up early.  Everyone is wrapped up against the cold even though the market stalls are protected from the wind.

Since we moved here in November, Nancy and I have had the pleasure of shopping at the Testaccio Market about weekly.  We have established our favorite market stalls for some things and developed friendly relationships with a few merchants and one garlic seller.

Today we have had the pleasure of taking our visiting friends, Lyn and Charles, to do shopping for their stay.  We bought chicken, bread, produce and garlic. We intended to get fish from Daniella but all the fish stalls were closed--too bad because Nancy has been learning the names of the fish in Italian.  We know not why they are closed--but decided it would be chicken tonight.

I say we, but actually Charles is cooking tonight and needed to think on his feet to plan dinner for us. He loves to shop for food anyway so he was focused.  Lyn and I held down the table where we parked all our purchases.

Charles wandered around the butcher stalls and decided on chicken breasts.  Then he wandered a bit more and decided that we will have them stuffed with dates and honey--trifoglio honey (we all guessed this one right: clover  The picture on the label was also a clue.)

Nancy has shopped with this fruit and vegetable vendor since we arrived here.  She tried out several others but this one has really good stuff and is friendly.  We much appreciate those vendors who will struggle along with us in our very poor Italian. Sicilian broccoli, pears, clementines, onions.  The big treat today--artichokes from Puglia--all trimmed by our vendor so we can try to prepare them in the Roman way.  We have had them a few times in restaurants--can we possibly re-create these deep-fried crispy artichokes?  I have the idea they are a Roman-Jewish specialty.  We first tried them in a restaurant in the ghetto but they are available elsewhere too.  We can report back later whether we were able to make anything like what we have eaten.

Lyn was the bakery scout.  Olive bread, plain bread for toast, a pretty big panettone (Charles' favorite), a small blueberry tart.  Also four pastries which lasted about 10 minutes after she got back to our table with them.

We all cooperated at the cheese and salami stall.  We have shopped there weekly and the woman in the stall knows us and remembers us.  She is a friendly woman and a cheese specialist.  Her husband is the specialist who handles shaving the thin strips of procuttio or helps identify the best type of salami.  It is a pleasure to watch them give intense personal attention to the customers ahead of us and very fun to be next and noticed and welcomed as though it is the highlight of their week to see us.  Today, I am proud to say that I was able to introduce "noi amici degli stati uniti" and they actually understood me--not just politely pretending.

Big balls of buffalo mozzarella from Romana.  Pecorino Siciliana with red pepper flakes.  Blue cheese--we can't remember from where.  Salame ungherese -- Charles' loves this type, a little spicy. Today we were getting big amounts: mezzo-kilo of pecorino!  The pecorino is branching out.  Up to now we have been getting Romano because we are temporary Romanos ourselves.  But this Sicilian cheese was standing up there on the top in big round wheels--who could resist trying out this foreign food all the way from Sicily?

We rounded out our strenuous shopping with coffee from the coffee bar in the center of the market.  I enjoy this market so much.  It has beautiful light even in the center without direct sun reaching in.  It is a new building and maybe not so much loved by all as it replaced a funky old market which has been around for a hundred years.  But I have no history so can enjoy the clever way the architects designed the glass roof, solar panels, vertical shade panels to provide light, air movement, shade, rain protection.  The center of the market is a sitting area with tables.  You can just sit or have something from the coffee bar or the wine seller or the sandwiches or, in our case, the pastries.

Once we gathered our strength, we left the market, walked past Monte Testaccio to Trattoria della Oio for a Roman lunch.  Carbonara pasta, oxtail with pomodoro, soup with potatoes and noodles.  The usual mezzo-litro of vino blanco.  Again too full for dessert.

Then the 719 bus and home.  Nap time.

Written by Julianne.  Photos too this time--sadly you can tell the lesser quality from Nancy's photos but, hey, they are here.  Dinner upcoming by Charles.

Happiness Strikes

London

We’re very focused on learning the history of these ancient places (our own intellectual background really), and making a visual record of where we find ourselves. For more things to do, we have the logistics of the trip. That's under constant review and development. 

Hey, this is serious stuff! If we don’t get on with it, well, it’s something of a waste, isn’t it? The whole trip might go awry. Nobody wants that.

Rome

Still, I think sometimes we might get just the tiniest bit tired of our demands on ourselves.

London

Rome

We just have to kick back now and again. Amusements and delights force themselves upon us. Happiness strikes. 

Florence

Rome

I made these images but I haven't been showing them. Actually, I’ve been saving them for a rainy day. Oh wait – this is a rainy day.

Tarragona

 Tarragona

So here just in time for Christmas is your small selection of delights, like a box of bon-bons. 

Barcelona

We’ve got  your coconut creams, and your chocolate-covered cherries. We've got your oreo cookies. Then there are a few things completely otherwise, like all at once a raspberry and a dog on a bicycle.

Madrid

Just images to say we're thinking of our friends and relations at this season. They do sort of group themselves into casual graffiti, unwitting amusement, and jokes. I can’t be any more organized.

Rome

Anyway, for you.

Florence

by Nancy

Baths of Diocletian or Church of Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martyri

Architecture, art, science, religion--the Church of Saint Mary of Angels and Martyrs
Julianne is writing this and all the photos are taken by Nancy.

For the actual Baths of Diocletian of Roman times I have little to say:
--huge
--late empire
--convenient to modern train station

A brief explanation: Diocletian was one of the later emperors in the imperial period and made almost his only architectural mark by building this giant structure.  Not so long in use though.  The Goths cut the aqueducts, conquered Rome and the hulk fell into disuse for 1000 years.  However, as tourists, many of us go there as the re-purposed building is so convenient, just at the main train station/bus terminal.  Me too. I had no idea what a treat was in store for me.

The excitement of this place is the work of art that is the Church of Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri and the works of art and science which are in or part of the church.  Stunning.  Guidebooks do not convey the masterful melding of ancient, renaissance and modern.

Michelangelo designed the church which was built within the original baths and kept much of the Roman building intact. Most of the church was complete by his death in 1564. In the mid-1700's it was restored with much of Michelangelo's vision intact.  Unusually for a church, the transept is much longer than the nave as the church maintains the structure of the original baths.  The light from the high windows under the original domes fills the transept illuminating the paintings transferred here from St. Peters Basilica in the 1600's.  The baths' original granite pillars were used and more were added.  The space works well as a visual whole in a way rarely seen in large church structures.  It is an artistry of light in a massive space.

Detail of martyrs' heads

Angels and Martyrs

The façade of the church is set within one of the curves of a tower of the baths.  It retains the original Roman brick and curves inward.  Two arched doorways have cast bronze doors by current Polish artist, Igor Mitoraj.  This church was my introduction to his work which is exquisitely skilful.  Although I have been unaware, he is a well-regarded artist who died recently in Paris. He has a marble carving of the head of John the Baptist in the nave of the church.  Of his own work, he says "The idea of beauty is ambiguous." In the doors the composition of the broken bodies of humans and angels creates a whole in which the art of a 21st C. artist melds with the 4 C. Roman brickwork.  The power of the art and architecture working in harmony kept me coming back for more looks.  I have seen more each visit and will go again.  The doors, architecture--the whole--set the stage for the ambiguity that is the physical and spiritual church embodied here.

Just inside, the nave of the church is short and dark, framed by the background of the transept which is wide and light-filled--so different from the structure of most Christian churches.  The visionaries who commissioned the doors, took full advantage of the oddities of the structure and created a skylight/glass dome within the short, dark section that creates in glass a "lucernaria" or oculus which uses prisms to cast colored light on the church floor to mark the time of day and season.  The dome is both a work of art and science, foreshadowing another other major feature of the church which is the Clementine sundial.

The yellow prism at about 7:30 in the dome...

...shows as a spot of yellow light on the church floor.

The sundial is in the transept of the church and crosses diagonally into the choir and apse in order to have a true north/south axis.  The sun enters in a pinhole on the south end and crosses the meridian line at exactly noon.

Pinhole in upper south wall

A further pinhole in a north window captures the light of the north star providing a scientific refinement in calendrical efforts not studied before its installation in 1702.  The basilica itself became a scientific instrument.  The sundial and star-transit allowed the scientists of the day, themselves churchmen, a refined understanding of the movements of the heavenly bodes.  Galileo had been condemned, but the church itself was gathering and refining facts to support contention that the sun is the center of the solar system.

Faint sun image in middle of pillar

One of our visits spanned noon so we could see both the lucernaria's colored prism reflected in the nave and the solar image on the sundial.  Since it is winter and sometimes cloudy, we targeted as sunny of a day as we could.  The colored prism was strong but the sundial's solar image was so faint we almost missed it.  A burst of sun late in the hour showed the solar image on one of the pillars--lucky for us to see it at all.


We will go back, though.  Such a combination of history, art and science is a rare treat for us. It helps that the church is close to Ristorante da Giovanni, open for lunch.

Looking at Roman-Era Sculpture: Portraits in Marble

After looking at lots and lots of marble statuary, I can say with confidence that marble doesn’t last as well as bronze. 

Torso at American Academy in Rome

It chips, breaks, discolors, collects accretions, erodes. Parts get lost. Applied paint fades and washes off. Prudes knock off the penises, conquerors knock off the heads. Medieval workmen needing lime for concrete melted a lot of marble statuary, mainly arms and legs which were easier than torsos. There’s even a 20^th century story of WWII American soldiers stationed in Piazza Navona breaking fingers off the statues for souvenirs of Rome.

Thus much work is needed. We never see the marble quite as it was. Even after the fingers are re-carved and glued onto the marble hands, the line of the mend remains, the color is a little different.

Mended head, Rome National Museum

This has to be all right. Monochrome statuary is beautiful and does great things with shadows. Broken and eroded and discolored statues and architectural details show us the transience of all things, including ourselves. We see how all things pass away. It’s a strong reality hit.

Basin of marble fountain near the Forum

Sacrificial bull, marble, Forum

I want to start from my aesthetic focus. What do I want from the Roman Empire? Do I admire the Romans? Not entirely – despite their many virtues of administration and engineering, Rome was a predatory power, based on plunder and the labor of slaves. They did a lot of good, for instance by enforcing the pax romana. For hundreds of years citizens could get a grip on their own lives and be confident of a stable political system. Still, there was a scary side to their approach that can’t be overcome. They didn't hesitate to kill if other methods of conquest (trade, political maneuvering) didn't work.

Tomb carving celebrating success in war

Rome National Museum

So, about the art? They got a lot of their art from Greece. Romans actually were much better at road-building and urban planning than at art. All those garden statues and images of gods – “Roman copy of Greek original” is a very common description. They imported Greek sculptors, too.

But, that’s not the end of the story. They made a fabulous and important contribution to world art in revising what constituted a portrait. Portraiture provides the main artistic innovation made by Romans. 

Clearly, Romans were realists. Greek sculpture tended toward the ideal, all those beautiful athletes and goddesses in their perfection. All very well, but not what the Romans wanted in a portrait.

This and all following portraits are from

the Rome National Museum

Hundreds, probably thousands of Roman portrait sculptures survive. In the Rome National Museum, a panel explains that ancestors were included in the household shrines. Family was an all-important value in Roman social life. Householders wanted to know what those ancestors looked like – they didn’t want approximate ancestors. They wanted their predecessors’ statues to look like they looked in life.

Evidently, they do. 

Two of three survive on this funerary monument

They are carved from marble, formerly painted, now white in the main. They can be dated from the hair styles, which followed the leaders. There are no compromises as regards wrinkles and attitude. They do not flatter. 

Generally, the faces are marked by experience. When you see anxiety, calculation, pride, disappointment, you see the sculptor catching a real person. A room of portrait sculptures looks like a party where everyone is temporarily frozen in ice.

Caligula, not someone you want to meet at a party.

I love Roman portraiture! How candid, how honest, how accurate. These are definitely to admire in their art. 

by Nancy

Looking at Roman-Era Sculpture: The Boxer

Rome is chockablock with classical artifacts, in the museums, in open-air sites, lying around in vacant lots and poking out of building facades. 

I have been hoping to understand classical civilization partly on the basis of these physical bits and pieces. But, they’re only bits and pieces, torn from context. The true past is gone; I can’t think how it felt to be there then. I only know what we see now, reconstructed (or not), cleaned up and simplified.

They're still worth looking at. I can appreciate them aesthetically, both in their ruined condition, and as repaired and cleaned up. Also, I do think it’s possible to understand something about the worldview that produced them, as long as I don’t think I’m understanding the whole magilla.

I’m going to do a few blog posts on what we see here in Rome of the antique past. It’s a matter of strict focus – there’s so much, too much. I’ll start with a very well-preserved life-size work in cast bronze. 

See what you think.

Exhibit A is the Boxer of Quirinal, now in the Rome National Museum. He came out of the ground at the original site of Constantine’s Baths, built around 300 CE. But he is much older, dating to the 1^st century BC, and true Greek, not a copy. He was in the baths along with a lot of other sculptures; how he got there from Greece is unknown. I can imagine him as one of a group, the others lost or scattered, because he seems to be looking at someone. That’s a supposition.

This boxer, as cast, has had a hard life. He’s scarred and wounded, and has a broken nose. He’s bleeding copper beads of blood. He looks fearful, exhausted, on his last nerve. His bronze toes are a little worn – in ancient times it seems people ran their hand over his toes as they passed. Was it for luck? Pity?

Anyway, it looks like he was recognized as a masterpiece from the first and carefully handled, valued, and preserved for hundreds of years. In the 6^th century CE, after the Ostrogoths cut the aqueduct supplying the Baths (and the city) with water, he was apparently carefully buried. He was rediscovered in 1885 when the Baths of Constantine were excavated. Some cleaning was required, and here he sits on his new seat, eye level with ourselves, easy to get close to.

Excavation of Baths of Constantine, photo from 1885

Well, I'm not sure about the "semi-barbaric" part

A very 19th-century comment!

What a miracle, to be in such good shape after 2100 years! What a stroke of luck for us, to have him come to light. I can feel closer to the Romans because of the toe rubbing; I would rub those toes, too. Lovely article in Wikipedia. The Museum’s wall labels are also very explanatory. Rick Steves has good pointers, too.

Now one thing about this boxer, he’s not a winner. Probably he lost his last bout. Despite his physique being tough and well-developed, he’s vulnerable. His mind is perhaps confused. He doesn’t know which way to turn. What’s next for him?

Well, as far as that goes, nobody always wins. We recognize something of our situation in his situation, our sympathy extends to him. 

And those toe-rubbing Romans – they likely felt the same. Thus in looking at this boxer, beautifully placed and lit in the Rome National Museum, we can feel some identification with the Romans of antiquity. In this bronze, we see something of what they saw. 

So that's my feeling about this wonderful bronze - I admire the aesthetic quality, love the story, and feel I've learned something about the Romans who admired and saved him. That was easy. Next, something harder.

by Nancy