Giuseppe Verdi
Macbeth

My "first time" with Macbeth will remain with me forever, indelible and unforgettable. And yes, among my previous opera experiences, I could already list titles like Madama Butterfly, La Traviata, Andrea Chenier, Rigoletto, and Turandot, all magnificent, particularly for me the last two, yet this was the first to leave me literally stunned throughout its entire duration. It is not with Macbeth that I discovered opera, but it made me know my absolute limit, made me understand the extent to which I could love this art form.

Dating back to 1847, a work by a Verdi not yet in full stylistic maturity, without pretensions of innovation from a formal point of view, Macbeth had immediate success, only to experience a long period of oblivion; the taste of the audience gradually shifted towards melodramas and more contemporary themes, a trend inaugurated by the Swan of Busseto himself with La Traviata, then came the hurricane that was Wagner, followed by verismo; not only Macbeth, many masterpieces of the bel canto repertoire underwent the same desert crossing, just think of Donizetti's Anna Bolena or Rossini's Semiramide. And a bit for all the rediscovery would come around the 1950s, a golden season probably unrepeatable for the opera world; in the specific case of Macbeth, much credit is due to Maria Callas, who played the Lady at La Scala on December 7th, 1952. The triumphant success of that performance allowed the opera to finally enter the standard repertoire, never to leave it again.

An opera with dark atmospheres yet full of dynamism, electrifying in the intensity of its drama and extremely generous both in terms of orchestral magnificence and impactful arias and choruses, masterfully dominated and sculpted by one of the most fascinating characters in all opera history: Yes, the role of Lady Macbeth is a titanic one, there are no other suitable adjectives, and here the credit also goes to the librettist, Francesco Maria Piave, perfect in translating the complexity of the Shakespearean character into a singable form. So, which voice for the Lady? It's not an easy question precisely because her musical characterization is as changeable and moody as her psychological nuances; dramatic Wagnerian sopranos (Birgit Nilsson, Leonie Rysanek, Astrid Varnay) and dramatic push sopranos closer to the Italian and Verdian repertoire (Ghena Dimitrova, Maria Guleghina) have tackled the role, but also Leyla Gencer, a great specialist in the bel canto repertoire and Shirley Verrett, who trained as a mezzo-soprano and later moved to a higher register. As if that weren't enough, sacred monsters like Leontyne Price and Montserrat Caballé wanted to give their own interpretation, even if only in studio recordings; unfortunately, there's also the contrary example, namely people not even remotely up to the role who dared to perform it in theaters, with results that were nothing short of vulgar. This is to say that Lady Macbeth is a character that can adapt to different types of vocality but will never, ever adapt to mediocre performers.

And it is precisely Lady Macbeth's arias that dictate the drama's rhythm: it starts with the famous cavatina, a perfect storm in which Verdi's genius reveals itself in all its glorious epicness. After the initial recitative, the introductory section "Ambizioso spirto...", must be interpreted with granitic power, to create the effect of a brutal acceleration that "nails" the listener; the aria "Vieni, t'affretta" and, especially, the irresistible cabaletta "Or tutti sorgete" instead require more agility, and must convey a sense of vitality, and fundamentally joy; certainly perverse, but still joy, and excitement. Joy that in the second act comes to die with "La luce langue", a dark, nocturnal and rarely fascinating romance: here doubt emerges, apparently dispelled by a line that calls for another masterful dramatic rendition "nuovo delitto... è necessario... E NECESSARIO", which launches into a sharp, ruthless crescendo. In "Si colmi il calice", the brindisi scene, accompanied by a melody you can whistle and the usual Verdian choral mastery, we find a Lady engaged in keeping appearances, singing this time almost on the verge of chirping but still conveying some duplicity and arrogance, contemptuous arrogance fully emerging in that "Voi siete demente" addressed to the husband tormented by Banquo's ghost. Finally, "Una macchia è qui tutt'ora", the famous sleepwalking scene; as I see it, it is absolutely not a scene of madness, on the contrary, here the Lady appears sober for the first time, not intoxicated by her visions of power. It is rather a moment of deep introspection and remorse, technically requiring perfect vocal control to credibly recreate the voice of a woman overwhelmed by failure and close to death.

Macbeth, on the other hand, is a baritone role that, while not reaching the musical peaks of the Lady (nor could it), still proves very interesting in the contradictions of his fragile ego: for example, his part in the already-mentioned brindisi scene requires great dramatic sensitivity, and his story culminates in a beautiful aria, "Pietà, rispetto, amore", which in defeat restores to the character his original dignity and nobility. And finally the witches, who in the literary Macbeth are just three, but Verdi, in his way, turns into about a dozen and entrusts their role to choral voices, which, as in many of his other works, inspire the composer to extraordinary heights: the introductory "Che faceste dite su", which immediately transports the listener into the opera's atmosphere, somewhere between remote past and authentic myth, spicing it all with a delightful liveliness, not without a certain irony. Akin but even more incisive is the second chorus, "Tre volte miagola", made absolutely irresistible by an even more pressing and tight melodic line while the third, "Ondine e silfidi" makes a story on its own: a sweet and consoling ballet, dedicated no less to Macbeth and his spouse, for which Verdi once again shows much empathy and understanding.

And after all, how can one not sympathize with these characters, the inspirers of such a work of splendid beauty? There is so much humanity in Verdian Macbeth, even if, at least judging by the first appearances, it is not a quality many would associate with the Lady, but it is precisely her imperfect humanity that makes her a titanic character because she is believable, perfectly embodied, much more so than other operatic heroines, all purity and chastity and/or entirely defined by desperate and impossible loves. An unforgettable protagonist of an opera that has everything, absolutely everything, everything, everything you could desire in a traditional lyrical drama.