il diavolo è nei dettagli (the devil is in the details) ...

It seems only appropriate to title this post in Italian, as Italians do indeed use the phrase listed above. 

I’m hard-at-work these days, keeping my main wheel going (tenure-track position at a University), along with addressing different “spokes” of this wheel. I’m preparing the chorus (for my first time) of Opera Southwest’s production of Tancredi (you can purhcase tickets here).

The task ahead of us as a team is to prepare a little-known masterpiece of Rossini for four performances in late October. Within the preparation process, and really the most fun part, is working on details.

For example, there are plenty of dynamic markings in parenthesis in the score.

[f] 

Which usually means that an important, past edition has the markings, but the current editor isn’t sure 100% if the dynamics or instructions are accurate enough. 

I am so proud of the work we are doing together.  

For a fun web-link which refers to the title above, click here.

PHOTO: A bird's-eye view of rehearsal this past Saturday. Photo credit - Ryan Guth

The layers of translation

I had the pleasure of sitting down with a newspaper reporter today who interviewed me for a music column in Bozeman, Montana. I am here for Intermountain Opera Bozeman (click here for more information) as the rehearsal pianist and vocal coach for a double-bill of Puccini’s Suor Angelica and Gianni Schicchi. 

One of my favorite questions that she asked was, “how do you do a translation?"

Translation is a very personal question. I know some who cover their scores so much that you can barely read them (a conductor who I served in 2009-2010 was the epitome of this), I know others who don’t do nearly enough translation. 

Be it written into one’s score or into a separate notebook (I do both), translation is such a deep, complex issue. 

Level 1: Know what each word means in and of itself. 

Level 2: Know the grammar and part of speech and function of each word. 

Level 3: Know the figurative or idiomatic meaning in your native tongue.

Level 4: What is magical about this sentence? How else could have a librettist or librettist-composer said what they said? Why is this the choice they came up with?

Level 5: What does the composer say about the translation (what does the harmony, rhythm, texture, color, dynamic level, orchestration have to do with the part)?

Take for example, the beginning of Rinuccio’s aria in Gianni Schicchi. 

He is addressing his aunt (who also functions as his guardian) in this scene. At the beginning of the opera, the Donati relatives have learned that their rich, heir-less uncle has left his considerable wealth to a monastery. Zita (the aunt) is horrified at the suggestion that the family employ a village bumpkin to help them scheme (and not honor the will, thusly, keeping the wealth for themselves). 

The words are: Avete torto! 

If you were to do a reverse-translation exercise (taking the original language to English, and then re-translate it), you could get the line:

Hai sbagliato. 

Why didn’t Puccini use that? A few suggestions:

1). Avete torto is easier to sing-say.

2). Avete is in the formal (the above hai is informal), still showing Rinuccio’s proper respect for his aunt. 

3). The rhythms set up the orchestral entrance in a more clear way (the orchestra rests underneath Rinuccio’s words). 

(I’m working on setting a poem of Robert Frost myself these days, so the question of text-setting is one on the brain of late.)