Dido's Lament - Henry Purcell
Some of you know that, generally, I am not to be counted among the world's opera buffs. I do very much enjoy the drinks and conversation at intermission, but the thing itself--not so much. I am acutely aware that this is a terrible limitation of my artistic horizons, but I have learned to trudge on through life without the particular illumination afforded to many by this venerable art-form.
Nevertheless, as with so many strictures, guidelines and checklists, there are exceptions. When I was at SSU as an undergraduate, I got a chance to sing in the chorus for a production of Purcell's Dido and Aeneas, and came to love the piece. For one thing, it has many lively and amusing choruses, which naturally pleased me. It has witches. It has a pathetic love story. And it has a magnificent final scene, one of the most famous in the world of opera: Dido's Lament.
Many of you already know this piece; if you think not, take a look and a listen--you may know it after all. The scene comes at us in three parts:
1) A recitative in which Dido, the Queen of Carthage, expresses her despair at having been abandoned by that unfaithful rat Aeneas, and declares her intention to die forthwith.
2) The famous so-called 'Dido's Lament', in which our royal heroine sinks by degrees (though certainly still able to give voice to her thoughts) while singing out her grief over what has become known as the Dido Bass Line, a descending chromatic scale which moves from the tonic to the dominant, then rounds off diatonically to a cadence. This foundational bass is repeated many times as Dido sings of her betrayal and begs us to remember her, but to forget her dreadful fate. It is one of the most moving arias in the repertoire, operatic or otherwise.
3) And the closing of this closing scene is effected by--you guessed it--the chorus, singing a gentle dirge fully fit to follow Dido's aria:
With drooping wings, ye Cupids come,
And scatter roses on her tomb,
Soft and gentle as her heart.
Keep here your watch,
And never part.
Simply magnificent!
Attached is a score of the entire scene. And here is a link to an excellent performance by the Ricercar Consort & Collegium Vocale Ghent.
What I suggest is that you wait till you have a little time. Settle down in your easy chair, perhaps with a glass of your favorite libation. Put on your Bose headphones or fire up the good stereo system. And sit back and listen. You'll be moved. You'll be astonished. Some of you may even decide that you actually like opera. After the pandemic, when you travel all the way to Bayreuth to see and hear the Ring cycle, you'll have me to thank.
(Or blame.)
-----
So nice to get a little rain yesterday afternoon. We had an amazing apparition off to the west--the sun shining through clouds and mist, making a most astounding golden glow--a real Old Testament sky. (See photo attached to get an idea.) To the south, all the trees were bathed in a soft, diffusive light. To the east was a double rainbow.
Wow!
Some of you know that, generally, I am not to be counted among the world's opera buffs. I do very much enjoy the drinks and conversation at intermission, but the thing itself--not so much. I am acutely aware that this is a terrible limitation of my artistic horizons, but I have learned to trudge on through life without the particular illumination afforded to many by this venerable art-form.
Nevertheless, as with so many strictures, guidelines and checklists, there are exceptions. When I was at SSU as an undergraduate, I got a chance to sing in the chorus for a production of Purcell's Dido and Aeneas, and came to love the piece. For one thing, it has many lively and amusing choruses, which naturally pleased me. It has witches. It has a pathetic love story. And it has a magnificent final scene, one of the most famous in the world of opera: Dido's Lament.
Many of you already know this piece; if you think not, take a look and a listen--you may know it after all. The scene comes at us in three parts:
1) A recitative in which Dido, the Queen of Carthage, expresses her despair at having been abandoned by that unfaithful rat Aeneas, and declares her intention to die forthwith.
2) The famous so-called 'Dido's Lament', in which our royal heroine sinks by degrees (though certainly still able to give voice to her thoughts) while singing out her grief over what has become known as the Dido Bass Line, a descending chromatic scale which moves from the tonic to the dominant, then rounds off diatonically to a cadence. This foundational bass is repeated many times as Dido sings of her betrayal and begs us to remember her, but to forget her dreadful fate. It is one of the most moving arias in the repertoire, operatic or otherwise.
3) And the closing of this closing scene is effected by--you guessed it--the chorus, singing a gentle dirge fully fit to follow Dido's aria:
With drooping wings, ye Cupids come,
And scatter roses on her tomb,
Soft and gentle as her heart.
Keep here your watch,
And never part.
Simply magnificent!
Attached is a score of the entire scene. And here is a link to an excellent performance by the Ricercar Consort & Collegium Vocale Ghent.
What I suggest is that you wait till you have a little time. Settle down in your easy chair, perhaps with a glass of your favorite libation. Put on your Bose headphones or fire up the good stereo system. And sit back and listen. You'll be moved. You'll be astonished. Some of you may even decide that you actually like opera. After the pandemic, when you travel all the way to Bayreuth to see and hear the Ring cycle, you'll have me to thank.
(Or blame.)
-----
So nice to get a little rain yesterday afternoon. We had an amazing apparition off to the west--the sun shining through clouds and mist, making a most astounding golden glow--a real Old Testament sky. (See photo attached to get an idea.) To the south, all the trees were bathed in a soft, diffusive light. To the east was a double rainbow.
Wow!