Feminine Madness in Donizetti's Lucia Di Lammermoor by Tiffany

Home , Alphonse Royer, Belisario, Domenico Cosselli, Enrico di Borgogna, Fausta (opera), Gaetano Donizetti

Lucia’s Liberation: Feminine Madness in Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor

By Tiffany Gaurika Sharma

Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Prerequisite for Honors in Music

May 2020

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements…………………………………………………………………………….. 3

Introduction……………………………………………………………………………………....4

Chapter One: Donizetti and Operatic Trends in the Nineteenth Century..………………..7 Johann Simon Mayr’s Influence on Donizetti………………..…………………………...7 Gaetano Donizetti…………………………………………………………………………...9 Operatic Styles and Trends in the Nineteenth Century………………………………..11

Chapter Two: The Genesis of Lucia di Lammermoor ………………..…………………....15 The Opera’s Creation and Production ………………………………………………...15 The Opera’s Reception …………………………………………………………………...18

Chapter Three: The Mad Scene ……………………………………………………………..21 Perceptions of Madness in the Nineteenth Century …………………………………..21 The Mad Scene and Origin of the Cadenza…………………………………………….24 Interpretations of the Mad Scene………………………………………………………...28 Comparing Depictions of Madness in I puritani and Lucia di Lammermoor...……....34 Singers’ Interpretations …………………………………………………………………...39

Conclusion……………………………………………………………………………………...45 Bibliography…………………………………………………………………………………….47

Acknowledgements

I have to begin by thanking my incredible thesis and major advisor, Professor

Claire Fontijn. Her kind guidance has been invaluable throughout the thesis journey, and I am glad to have had the opportunity to explore such interesting topics with her.

Professor Claire’s care, support, expertise, and thoroughness have made this thesis a joy to work on. I am also incredibly thankful for all her guidance as my major advisor, helping me make the most out of the wonderful music department at Wellesley.

This whole endeavor would not have been possible without the unrelenting support and guidance given to me by Gale Fuller, who has helped me grow as a singer, performer, musician, and person over the past four years with unwavering positivity and kindness. Gale’s investment in my voice and growth as a musician has been an invaluable gift. Thank you also to David Collins, who has been the most supportive and fun person to share the stage with. Most of what I have learned these past four years would not have been possible without his coachings and accompaniment. I have learned so much from them and every other faculty member of the music department who has shown the same support, care, and investment in my musical journey.

Lastly, I would like to thank my family and friends for their constant encouragement and love throughout this process. And a very special thank you to my mother, who took me to my first opera four years ago in Barcelona, which just happened to be Lucia di Lammermoor.

Introduction

Opera is an old and rich art form, brimming with deep and revealing portrayals of almost every emotion, mental state, and situation imaginable. Examining the art, literature, and music of the past allows us to gain a better understanding of ideologies and trends from those times, such as changing views of politics, religion, and gender.

Therefore, opera is a perfect window into the social values and beliefs of the past as it combines music, literature, and art.

In this thesis, I explore the portrayal and usage of female madness in bel canto opera, or Italian opera of the nineteenth century. There are many operas that depict female madness in various forms; notable ones include Bellini’s I puritani (1835), Strauss’s Elektra (1909), and Thomas’s Hamlet (1868). One of the most iconic and memorable mad scenes however, is in Gaetano Donizetti’s opera, Lucia di Lammermoor (1835). Delving into the title character Lucia’s role and music, allows us to better understand the perception of female madness in the first half of the 1800s. With a new feminist perspective and stronger scientific understanding of madness and mental illness, it is valuable to now re-examine Lucia’s character and the social politics at play in her creation and presentation.

My methods for researching and writing this thesis included reading the existing music literature, translating an edited facsimile of the autograph score from the Rare

Materials Collection of the Wellesley College Music Library, listening to and watching

performances by multiple artists, as well as preparing an excerpt of the opera for my senior recital.

In this thesis, I examine two feminist perspectives on Lucia’s character presented by Susan McClary and Mary Ann Smart, one painting her as a liberated woman and the other as a victim, respectively. These theories are based on a close examination of the music, form, libretto, and famous flute cadenza in the mad scene. I then make a case for my interpretation of Lucia’s character, combining the arguments and perspectives presented by McClary and Smart.

In Chapter 1, I present the historical background necessary to fully understand the opera and its creation. I first discuss influences on Donizetti’s career and writing style from his teacher, composer Johann Simon Mayr. Then I give a brief biography of

Gaetano Donizetti, outlining his early life, musical career, and untimely death. I end this chapter with a discussion of the prevalent operatic styles and trends of the time in Italy.

All of this background serves as a foundation for the following exploration of Lucia di Lammermoor, a pivotal opera in Donizetti’s career. Chapter 2 explores the genesis of Lucia. I outline the inception, creation, and production of the opera’s first performance in 1835, as well as present a synopsis of the libretto written by Salvatore Cammarano based on Sir Walter Scott’s book, The Bride of Lammermoor. Lastly, I discuss the initial reception of the opera from Donizetti’s own words and explore how it has lasted the test of time as a favorite of audiences globally.

Chapter 3 is where I delve into the topic of madness. I begin with an overview of public sentiment about scientific theories of madness from the early nineteenth century,

to better understand what audiences at the time were expecting and thinking about that topic. Then I try to understand the origin of the flute cadenza in Lucia’s mad scene, as it was actually not composed by Donizetti. Once the background and creation of the mad scene are explained, I lay out the two differing interpretations of the mad scene presented by Smart and McClary, and present my own interpretation based on their arguments. Then I analyze the important parallels and divergences between the mad scene from Lucia di Lammermoor and Elvira’s mad scene from Bellini’s I puritani. I close off the chapter with an analysis of various singers’ presentations of Lucia, exploring how portrayals shifted over time.

My hope is that this thesis helps contribute to the growing focus of re-examining music through a feminist lens. This powerful perspective has already diversified and expanded our understanding of music, composers, characters, and larger trends from the past. Questioning why something is the way it is has always opened new doors of intellectual curiosity and understanding, and it is important we do the same with discussing gender in the world of music.

Chapter One: Donizetti and Operatic Trends in the Nineteenth Century

Johann Simon Mayr’s Influence on Donizetti

Johann Simon Mayr (1763-1845) was Gaetano Donizetti’s most influential teacher, benefactor, and friend.1 Mayr was an accomplished operatic composer of his time and a leader in developing opera seria between the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Born in Mendorf, Bavaria, he moved to Bergamo, Italy in 1788 to study music. He composed almost seventy operas in a thirty-year career, and was considered the most important Italian operatic composer between 1801 and 1813, after the death of Domenico Cimarosa and before the rise of Gioachino Rossini.

Although his music is practically forgotten today, Mayr bridged many of the musical styles of his time. For instance, as a composer of both religious and operatic music, he used his knowledge of those two genres to strengthen his compositions and teachings. Mayr’s operas are also considered important links between the styles of opera seria and melodramma. He was a master at dramatic recitative and skilfully began adding expressive accompaniment to create a style of recitative that is now called canto caratteristico. And lastly, he was a bridge between German and Italian music. He closely studied and performed Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven in Bergamo, increasing the popularity of German music for his Italian audiences and students.

1 This biography is credited to Scott L. Balthazar, "Mayr [Mayer], (Johann) Simon." (Grove Music Online) and William Ashbrook, Donizetti (London: Cassell, 1965).

After establishing himself, Mayr decided to focus his efforts on teaching. He felt such a strong connection with the community in Bergamo that he decided to turn down many prestigious positions offered from cities across Europe. He happily chose community and comfort over prestige and money, and was therefore instrumental in founding and teaching at multiple cultural institutions in Bergamo. One of these institutions was La Congregazione di Carità, where Donizetti studied. Mayr guided

Donizetti through his early studies and encouraged him to pursue his talent for composition. Mayr’s love for opera was quickly adopted by Donizetti, and his musical focus on drama clearly influenced Donizetti’s own work. Mayr taught Donizetti as much as he believed he could and then sent him to study with Rossini’s teacher, Padre Mattei, in Bologna in 1815. Mayr, although an extremely talented teacher and composer, was humble and wise enough to recognize when he needed to let Donizetti leave Bergamo and broaden his horizons. Even though their formal student-teacher relationship ended, the two of them shared a very respectful and fond relationship for the rest of their lives, as is evident in the many letters they wrote to each other. Mayr was clearly a large figure in Donizetti’s life—almost a second father in a way. There is a legend that

Donizetti commemorated his respect for Mayr by using a melody from one of his masses in the final scene of Lucia di Lammermoor, however, it has not been corroborated.

Gaetano Donizetti

Gaetano Donizetti was born on November 29, 1797 in Bergamo.2 One of six children, he grew up in a relatively poor family. His passion for music was evident from a young age, so he enrolled in La Congregazione di Carità at eight years old to study music. He was admitted as a singer, and much of the educational emphasis was placed on molding the young boys into successful choristers. Unfortunately, Donizetti apparently didn’t have a pleasant-sounding voice and wasn’t punctual, and was therefore almost expelled a few times. Mayr, however, noticed the compositional talent

Donizetti held, and helped petition for him to stay in the school. Mayr wrote that,

“Although not overly favoured by nature with an outstanding voice, he is, however, gifted by inclination, talent, and genius for composition, particularly with his readiness of fantasy in conceiving musical ideas which are not unsuitable for the setting of words.”3

Mayr helped Donizetti focus his musical interests in composition rather than performance, allowing him to fully explore his talent.

When Donizetti was approaching eighteen years of age, Mayr suggested that he go to Bologna to study fugue and counterpoint with Padre Mattei, a famed teacher at the Liceo Musicale in Bologna. Mayr petitioned diligently for the support to send

Donizetti there. He had to convince Donizetti’s struggling parents that his studies were more valuable than a paying job, as well as convince the Congregazione that the negative marks on his academic history were not indicative of his talent and opportunity.

2 This biography is credited to Mary Ann Smart and Julian Budden, “Donizetti, (Domenico) Gaetano (Maria)” (Grove Music Online) and William Ashbrook, Donizetti (London: Cassell, 1965). 3 Appeal by Mayr to the Congregazione in Ashbrook, Donizetti, 23.

One month before his eighteenth birthday, Mayr gave Donizetti money and two letters of introduction and sent him off to Bologna. The first letter was addressed to Giovanni

Ricordi, the famous publisher, and the second to Marchese Francesco Sampieri for help in finding Donizetti housing.4

Donizetti worked hard in Padre Mattei’s counterpoint classes, diligently trying to prove that Mayr’s faith in him was well founded. Some of Mattei’s students, including

Rossini, considered him a harsh and distant teacher.5 Therefore it seems that Donizetti did not enjoy working with Padre Mattei since there are almost no references to Mattei in any of his letters, while Mayr is a common figure in his writings. In any case, Bologna is where Donizetti first attempted writing operas, completed secular and religious vocal works, and composed a few overtures.

After his studies, Donizetti returned to Bergamo and began integrating deeply in the music scene there. In 1818, thanks to Mayr, he received his first commission for an opera. Enrico di Borgogna, his first professional work, premiered in November to a modest response. It did however secure him a second commission, and thus began his career. After the urging of Mayr, Donizetti began expanding his work by taking opportunities in Rome and Naples. Once in Naples, he became the director of the royal theatres from 1818 to 1834. There he married Virginia Vasselli in 1828.

It was Donizetti’s thirty-first opera that finally catapulted him into fame. Anna Bolena, premiered in 1830 at Teatro Carcano in Milan, was an immediate success and marked the turning point in his career. The years after Anna Bolena are a whirlwind.

4 Ashbrook, Donizetti, 24. 5 Ibid., 25.

Donizetti was producing operas at a rapid rate and travelling across Italy to compose and oversee premieres. One of those works was Lucia di Lammermoor, which premiered in 1835 to great acclaim. However the joy from his successes unfortunately didn’t last long as both his parents passed away a few weeks from each other in

1835-1836. Then his wife, Virginia, died in 1837 after giving birth to a second still-born child, and her death devastated Donizetti.

Donizetti moved to Paris in 1838, perhaps to begin a new life after all these tragedies. As he established himself in Paris, prestigious and high-paying offers began to pour in. He chose the position of Hofkapellmeister to the Habsburg court in Vienna, because it allowed him to take time to compose.6 He began to split his time between

Paris and Vienna while still frequently visiting Italy. Donizetti seemed to enjoy this chaotic and exciting schedule, but unfortunately, symptoms of syphilis began to appear in the early 1840s. He had constant fevers and headaches, and by 1845 his work and travel had halted as he could barely compose anymore. He was placed in a Parisian asylum in 1846, but was moved back in the following year to Bergamo, where he died on April 8, 1848. He was ultimately buried alongside Mayr in the Cathedral of Santa

Maria Maggiore.

Operatic Styles and Trends in the Nineteenth Century

The nineteenth century was an important transitional period in the world of opera.

In this century large shifts in genre, form, and aesthetics took place. At the forefront of

6 Donizetti had five to six months of leave while in this position. Smart and Budden, “Donizetti.”

these changes was Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868). He is considered a “transitional composer whose works look both back into the grand era of bel canto singing of the eighteenth century and ahead to the new melodramas of Verdi.”7 Rossini studied with

Padre Mattei before Donizetti and quickly became the most influential composer of his time. He was so influential that Giovanni Pacini, a contemporary of Rossini’s, complained in his memoirs that “during the Rossinian heyday, everyone had to become an imitator: there was simply no other way to earn a living.”8 His compositional characteristics are now known as the Rossinian Code. This includes his change in operatic structure and other important musical devices. Rossini also introduced a new numbered system to organize and structure operatic form. In this system, an aria, for example, was made up of multiple numbers including introductory recitative, three movements comprising the cantabile, a connecting passage (tempo di mezzo), and a two-stanza cabaletta to close. This became the general method of structuring operas and was adopted quickly by other composers because of its success. Popular

Rossinian musical devices include energized rhythms for orchestral themes, delicately balanced lyrical melodies, and the Rossini crescendo: eight or sixteen bars that are repeated multiple times, each time with larger instrumentation and louder dynamics.9

Alongside the structural and aesthetic changes spearheaded by Rossini, a larger shift was taking place through Italy. There was a push towards Romanticism and

Verismo found in Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti’s works. Audiences and composers alike

7 Jeffrey A. Langford, Evenings at the Opera: An Exploration of the Basic Repertoire. (Milwaukee: Amadeus Press, 2011), 51. 8 Carolyn Abbate and Roger Parker, A History of Opera. (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2015), 189. 9 Ibid., 195-96.

were becoming more attracted to truthful, emotional depictions of life rather than the fantastical mythological stories of the classical tradition. There was a drive towards liberal, free expression and libretti became closer to common speech. Opera was now not just created for the elite, but for everyone. Librettists and composers began working more closely in the early nineteenth century, and instead of resetting old traditional texts and stories, they turned to works by contemporaries. Librettists of the time were specifically inspired by authors writing in French and English like Victor Hugo,

Shakespeare, and Sir Walter Scott, whose book, The Bride of Lammermoor (1819), was the basis for Lucia’s libretto. This century also saw a shift in opera genres. In the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Rossini revitalized the genre of opera buffa, or the comedic opera. Donizetti followed in his path and also wrote many works in this genre, like Don Pasquale. However by the mid-century, interests began to shift to more serious works, or opera seria, through the Romantic movement. As mentioned earlier, Mayr was also an instrumental figure in enabling this transition from opera buffa to opera seria and eventually melodramma. By the end of the nineteenth century, these genres had interestingly begun to fuse together and many operas had a combination of comedic and serious elements.

On top of all these shifts in form, aesthetics, and genre, was the added effect of the Italian censor. Every Italian city had a council of censors who would review and revise all libretti, compositions, and productions to rid them of any references to politics or religion. The censor usually would alter title, character, and location names, provide

re-writing of scenes, and occasionally fully reject a libretto. For example, for Bellini’s opera I puritani to be accepted in Rome, he had to change the title of the duet “Gridendo libertà” to “Gridendo lealtà” (from “shouting freedom” to “shouting loyalty”).10

This was on a city-by-city basis though, so if a libretto was rejected in Rome, the strictest city, the production might still be successful in Naples. This kind of censorship stood in direct contrast to the more liberal trends of free expression found in Italian culture of the time, and it slowed the evolution of libretti plot, setting, and themes. The strict guidelines around political and religious topics, which were considered dangerous by the censors, resulted in a slower progression in libretti than was seen in the music and aesthetics of opera. Nevertheless, it was an exciting and rapidly evolving time for the art of opera.

10 Danièle Pistone, Nineteenth-Century Italian Opera from Rossini to Puccini. Translated by E. Thomas Glasow. (Portland, OR: Amadeus Press, 1995), 31.

Chapter Two: The Genesis of Lucia di Lammermoor

The Opera’s Creation and Production

In November of 1834, Donizetti signed a contract to write three operas, the most famous of which is Lucia di Lammermoor, for the Teatro di San Carlo in Naples. It was agreed that the librettist and plot of the libretto were to be decided by the theater's governing body, the Società. To Donizetti’s frustration, there was great delay in choosing the plot and librettist. Donizetti wrote a handful of letters to the Società of the theater showing his frustration with their delays. On May 29, 1835 he wrote a scathing letter saying, “permit me to tell you with my customary frankness that you should find among the terms of the contract there is that one that says you should have given me the book, approved by all the authorities, on the first days of this past March.”11 He clearly wanted to get to work as soon as possible, and didn’t like wasting his time. They ultimately chose Salvatore Cammarano as the librettist and this was the beginning of a long, successful partnership between him and Donizetti.

The libretto was based on Sir Walter Scott’s book, The Bride of Lammermoor, written in 1819. The book had previously been set in three operas: Michele Carafa’s Le nozze di Lammermoor in 1829, Luigi Rieschi’s La fidanzata di Lammermoor in 1831, and Alberto Mazzucato’s La fidanzata di Lammermoor in 1834. Donizetti and

Cammarano’s opera is a three-act dramma tragico that strays slightly from Scott’s plot.

11 Ashbrook, Donizetti, 167.

Some characters, like Lucia’s mother, were cut from the opera and new ones added, however, Cammarano’s libretto kept most of the power and drive in the plot intact.

The opera is set in Scotland in the 17th century and follows the story of Lucia

Ashton who is caught in the middle of a family feud between her family and the

Ravenswoods. Lucia is in love with Edgardo who happens to be a Ravenswood. Her brother Enrico finds out, and realizes that he must end the impossible relationship.

Lucia and Edgardo plan to meet in secret, and while she is waiting in a garden by a fountain for him, Lucia recounts in the famous aria “Regnava nel silenzio” that she has encountered the ghost of a girl murdered by a Ravenswood at that very fountain. She takes this apparition as a sign that her love for Edgardo is futile and they must abandon the relationship. However when Edgardo arrives, he tells her that because of political reasons he has to leave immediately for France, but he hopes to return and convince her brother that they should marry. Lucia doesn’t believe that her brother would ever agree, so they instead decide to swear a vow of marriage and exchange rings in secret before he departs.

Act two begins with Enrico’s decision to marry Lucia off to Lord Arturo Bucklaw.

He knows Lucia will not willingly marry another while she loves Edgardo, so he forges a letter from Edgardo saying he doesn’t love her anymore and has taken a new lover. On the wedding day Lucia begins to act strangely. Enrico assures Arturo that it is because of the death of Lucia’s mother, so they go on with signing the contract. Edgardo bursts into the hall at the last minute, but it is too late. The priest, Raimondo, shows him the

signed marriage contract, and in a fit of rage Edgardo demands Lucia return her wedding band to him. He throws it on the floor and is then kicked out of the castle.

In act three Enrico, angered that Edgardo barged into his sister’s wedding, challenges Edgardo to a duel and they agree to meet by the Ravenswood’s graveyard later that night. The second scene begins with the shocking news that while everyone was celebrating after the wedding, Lucia had gone mad and murdered her new bridegroom in their bedroom. Lucia enters the hall, dazed in a white wedding dress stained with blood. In her famous mad scene, she begins to hallucinate a wedding with

Edgardo and after an incredible devolution into madness—egged on by the ghostly character portrayed by the music of a solo flute—Lucia collapses and dies. Edgardo, after hearing that Lucia has died, commits suicide by stabbing himself so that he may join Lucia in the afterlife. The opera’s libretto is dramatic, heart wrenching, and presents a fascinating portrayal of female madness.

Once the story was finalized, Donizetti had the go-ahead to begin composing and he was unstoppable. He composed the entire opera in just over a month, beginning at the end of May and finishing on July 6, 1835. Interestingly, he originally wrote a glass harmonica into the instrumentation, most notably in Lucia’s mad scene, however at the last minute he decided to switch the instrument to a flute.12 It is unclear as to why he made the decision, but some speculate that either he couldn’t find a proficient musician or it was an impractical instrument in rehearsals. The glass harmonica, which was

12 Ashbrook, Donizetti, 417.

frequently used to symbolize illness or the supernatural, is sometimes featured in productions, however the flute is the most common option.

Once the work was finished, the scores were sent right away to the opera house and rehearsals began. Fanny Tacchinardi Persiani, a famous Italian soprano of the time, played the title role and was joined on stage by Gilbert Duprez as Edgardo,

Domenico Cosselli as her brother Enrico, and “Balestrieri”13 as Arturo.

The Opera’s Reception

The opera premiered on September 26, 1835 at the Teatro di San Carlo, and as

Ashbrook put it, “the first performance of Lucia di Lammermoor was one of the greatest triumphs ever to take place at the San Carlo.”14 Lucia was an immediate success and marked the turning point in Donizetti’s career, placing him at the forefront of the Italian opera world. He wrote in his letters, quite humbly, about the success of the opera. A letter to Ricordi dated September 29th says, “It has pleased, and pleased very much, if I may believe the applause and the compliments received. [...] Every piece was listened to with religious silence and hailed by spontaneous cheers.”15

A few years later, the French version of the opera, Lucie de Lammermoor, premiered at the Théâtre de la Renaissance in Paris on August 6, 1839. The libretto was translated by Alphonse Royer and Gustave Vaëz, and Donizetti changed the score himself. He re-arranged the score, added recitatives, and simplified the opera because

13 The singer’s name always appears solely as a last name. 14 Ashbrook, Donizetti, 170. 15 Ibid., 170-171.

the cast at the Renaissance had “modest talents” in his opinion.16 For example, he chose to substitute Lucia’s aria “Regnava nel silenzio” from act one with an aria,

“Perché non ho del vento,” from Rosmonda d'Inghilterra, another one of his operas from 1834. Lucie was a big success even with these changes, and Donizetti wrote that, “... Suffice it to know that I was in bed with a headache, but after the opera I was obliged to get up as the singers, chorus, and orchestra came with torches to repeat the choruses of Lucia under my windows, and from above (like royalty) I thanked them amid the cheering… The opera in this form will make the tour of France and from time to time I will have some francs from the provinces too…”17 Lucie de Lammermoor was ultimately put on at the Opéra in 1846 and later performed over 200 times across France. The French version almost equalled Lucia’s popularity in Italy. Lucia di Lammermoor’s instant success was impressive, but what truly shows the importance and effect of the opera is how long it has remained an audience favorite.

The opera stood the test of time, and Ashbrook credits this to its “dramatic immediacy.”

18 This dramatic presence is proven through references to the opera at moments of crisis in both Madame Bovary (Gustave Flaubert, 1857) and Anna Karenina (Leo Tolstoy, 1875-77). Lucia’s story is used as a symbol of love doomed by the meddling of surrounding societal forces.19 Another likely factor to the opera’s success is that

Donizetti composed for both the past and future. Donizetti placed Romantic colors in his orchestration and used instruments, like the flute, as characters in the opera. The opera

16 Ibid., 230. 17 Ibid., 230. Letter from Donizetti to Persico, Aug 9, 1839. 18 William Ashbrook, Donizetti and His Operas. (Cambridge University Press, 1982), 380. 19 Herbert Weinstock, Donizetti and the World of Opera in Italy, Paris and Vienna in the First Half of the Nineteenth Century. (New York: Pantheon Books, 1963).

also seems to anticipate aspects of Puccini’s theater to come, such as revisiting musical motifs, a suffering heroine as the victim, and a suicide right before the final curtain.20 But ultimately it seems that the plot’s plausibility and immediate sympathy felt by audiences is skillfully heightened by Donizetti’s haunting, beautiful, and effective composition, creating an incredibly powerful and stunning opera that audiences have loved since its premiere.

20 William Ashbrook, “Popular Success, the Critics and Fame: The Early Careers of ‘Lucia Di Lammermoor’ and ‘Belisario,’” Cambridge Opera Journal, vol. 2, no. 1 (1990): 65–81.

Chapter Three: The Mad Scene

Perceptions of Madness in the Nineteenth Century

Society has long been captivated by representations of extreme emotions in art and entertainment. One of these human states is madness, which during the nineteenth century became strongly associated with women as a female illness, usually the cause of excess female sexuality.21 However, many cultural anthropologists have shown through their research that there doesn’t seem to be a neurological condition of

“madness.” Madness is merely an individual deviating from the societal norms, values, and behaviors of their specific culture. Therefore the definition and perception of madness evolves continuously over time and region, as do the artistic representations of madness.22

Artistic representations of female madness were generally idealized and aestheticized, so much so that this seeped into scientific discussions of insanity in the

1850s. Jean-Martin Charcot (1825-1893), a French scientist who would perform public seances and autopsies, brought hysteria and madness to the forefront of French popular culture and entertainment in the 1850s. He demonstrated how light pressure on the ovaries of a woman can result in an immediate attack of hysteria, perpetuating the notion that the ovaries are the direct cause of female madness.23 Charcot and his pupil

21 Elaine Showalter, The Female Malady: Women, Madness, and English Culture, 1830-1980. (New York: Pantheon Books, 1985). 22 Susan McClary, “Excess and Frame: The Musical Representation of Madwomen,” in Feminine Endings: Music, Gender, and Sexuality (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1991), 80–111. 23 Romana Margherita Pugliese, “The Origins of ‘Lucia Di Lammermoor's’ Cadenza,” Cambridge Opera Journal, vol. 16, no. 1 (2004): 35.

Paul Richter published Les Démoniaques dans l’art in 1877, in which they describe the hysterical attack and break it down into four stages: epileptoid, clownism (contortions and acrobatic postures), attitude passionnelle, and delirium-hallucination, which is the actual hysterical attack. These four stages almost perfectly mirror the progression of

Lucia’s madness in Lucia di Lammermoor. This connection is unsurprising as much of Charcot and Richter’s work was highly influenced by artistic depictions of madness, such as those by Donizetti and Cammarano in Lucia. The public knowledge and opinion of madness was mainly formed by these sensationalized artistic depictions of madness and the female condition.

Audiences quickly became enthralled with the concept of the mad woman, and she began to be depicted in paintings, literature, and music. This madness was commonly tied to portrayals of brazen sexuality, as seen in Tony Robert-Fleury’s 1876 painting Pinel Freeing the Insane (Figure 1). The focus of the painting is a woman whose mental state is portrayed through her overt carelessness for decency. Her bare breasts and undone clothing mark a strong contrast to the group of well-dressed men and women looking upon her.

The trope of madness was also commonly used to disarm femme fatale figures in art. Portrayals of women who circumvented traditional female stereotypes and expectations were tamed in the end of a plot with illness, hysterics, and/or death.

Characters such as Carmen, Lucia, and Salome are ultimately tamed, essentially neutralized as a danger to masculine control. These portrayals of female madness were

usually contained within a sane, masculine frame, thus rationalizing the madness and keeping the “contagion” of the woman from spreading to the audience.

Figure 1.

In opera, the nature of the art form allows for many kinds of frames to exist.

These may include plot, body, coloratura, form, and voice. While music can be very emotionally liberating compared to other art forms, it is confined to a system of specific rules and norms, especially when one is looking at bel canto opera. In Lucia di Lammermoor there are also multiple frames at play. When looking at the framing of the plot it is clear that Lucia is a puppet in a masculine world, controlled by a brother, lover,

husband, or tutor. Through the opera’s music Lucia is given more freedom of expression than her literary counterpart in Sir Walter Scott’s book, but she still must sing the conventional form of traditional arias and cabalettas. During the mad scene, the whole ensemble at the wedding watches Lucia in shock and tries to bring her back down to a safe C-minor tonality while she resists. These various frames seek to control and tame Lucia, placing her under a strong male gaze which ultimately drives her to madness.

The Mad Scene and Origin of the Cadenza

Lucia’s mad scene is a sprawling fifteen minutes of unpredictable, raw emotion.

The scene consists of three sections, a recitative, slow aria, and cabaletta. The scene opens with Lucia entering the wedding party, usually wearing a white gown covered in blood. She begins to hallucinate Edgardo’s voice and calls out to him, exclaiming how he is finally hers and she is finally his. As she calls to him, she feels a deep shiver in her, indicative of her failing physical state. She tells Edgardo to sit near the fountain with her, the fountain by which she sang “Regnava nel silenzio” in act one. Just as they sit so she can catch her breath, a terrible ghost rises up and tries to split them apart. Lucia screams Edgardo’s name as they try to escape this specter. They find refuge at the foot of an altar, and as Lucia looks up she realizes it is covered with roses and can hear beautiful, celestial wedding hymns begin to surround them. She is suddenly transported to this joyful state of believing that she and Edgardo are finally getting married. She

exclaims, “Oh, gioia che si sente e non si dice!” (Oh, joy that I feel but can not express!).

Sacred incense burns and a minister appears as she takes Edgardo’s hand, ready to exchange wedding vows.

All this hallucinating occurs in the initial recitative and slow aria sections of the scene, and there is an unclear transition between these two sections as Lucia continues hallucinating. Throughout the scene, a solo flute becomes more and more prominent as it seems to take on a character itself. It keeps pushing Lucia on in her madness while the rest of the orchestra and chorus try to bring her back to sanity. The flute is an embodiment of her madness, taking on the characters of the ghost at the fountain, celestial music, and even Edgardo himself. As her madness grows, so does the flute’s presence. Once Lucia begins to sing fast coloratura phrases at the end of the aria, the flute is essentially doubling her, supporting her frenzied state, and the orchestra’s presence has largely diminished by this point. This climaxes with the famous flute cadenza as Lucia’s madness reaches a peak. The cadenza is almost solely a conversation between Lucia and the flute. They pass musical phrases back and forth, and the flute imitates and pushes Lucia along to the crowning moment of the cadenza: the high E flat.

After the incredible show of virtuosity and madness in the cadenza, Lucia begins to realize her imminent death. In the following cabaletta, she says she will pray for

Edgardo from heaven and wait for him to join her, only then will she be happy in heaven. As traditional of the time, the cabaletta repeats with added ornamentation by the singer. The cabaletta features a cheerful melody and orchestration, painting a stark

contrast to the mournful and morbid words in the libretto. The end of the cabaletta is usually adorned with a short cadenza featuring another high E flat, and then the scene ends with Lucia’s death.

The mad scene, with all its drama and glory, would seem incomplete without its wonderful flute and soprano cadenza. This famous cadenza has become the crowning moment for Lucia and the whole opera in fact. It is now ubiquitous: synonymous with the opera’s name. When someone mentions Lucia di Lammermoor, the mad scene with the fantastic high E flat is the first thing that comes to mind. However, Donizetti did not write in the elaborate cadenza that is now highly celebrated, he only notated a harmonic outline meant to be a framework for a singer’s improvisation, as was customary for composers of the time. So the question is: where did this iconic piece of music come from?

There have been attempts to date the cadenza to 1835, but in her research on the topic, Romana Margherita Pugliese rejects those attempts on the grounds that there is no solid documentation to support that date.24 In the early years of the opera, the mad scene actually was not hailed as an especially memorable or noteworthy moment compared to other favorites in the opera. This is likely because the mad scene “was at odds with contemporary expectations with regard to the staging of madness.”25 During this time, female madness was still only depicted in a submissive and virginal way.

However, Lucia is dangerous, a threat to viewers, since she murders her husband. This gives her power and danger that audiences just weren’t accustomed to. Pugliese

24 Pugliese, “The Origins,” 23-42. 25 Ibid., 27.

additionally states that it’s very unlikely for the cadenza to have been created in the first half of the nineteenth century because such a virtuosic passage would have made the scene even more threatening.

In the early years of the opera it was actually quite common to substitute the entire mad scene with a scene from another opera altogether. In four productions, singers replaced the mad scene with the rondo-finale from Fausta, also by Donizetti. This substitution was first made by Mathilde Palazzesi in 1836-37 at the Teatro Ducale in Parma. The new music and text altered the portrayal and madness of Lucia greatly, as Fausta’s slower movement “reveals a gentler sort of madness”26 and the text shows that she is clearly lucid and not as undone as Lucia is in her mad scene. With this alteration, Lucia seems to be fully aware of her situation. The Parma production received good reviews, and three other singers followed suit, using Palazzesi’s substitution. Because the opera was newly composed, this substitution could have become a permanent practice. However this did not happen, likely because the opera began gaining popularity rapidly in Italy and other countries and Fausta’s rondo is not as captivating to an audience as Lucia’s mad scene.27

This uncertainty and constant shifting in interpretation of the mad scene make it difficult to pinpoint when the iconic cadenza was formed. It likely was a slow process as singers’ and audiences’ tastes evolved, but the first written proof of the addition of the flute cadenza was in 1889, when the opera was produced at Paris’s Opéra Garnier with

26 Hilary Poriss, “A Madwoman's Choice: Aria Substitution in ‘Lucia Di Lammermoor,’” Cambridge Opera Journal, vol. 13, no. 1 (2001): 18. 27 Ibid., 1-28.

the role of Lucia played by Nellie Melba.28 It is very likely that Mathilde Marchesi,

Melba’s teacher, wrote the cadenza. Its premiere came with much appreciation and applause, as the cadenza was a thrilling addition that brought the mad scene to life for audiences. Melba became extremely famous as Lucia, and she made Lucia one of her signature roles. By 1893 the cadenza had already achieved a high status and even became a popular encore. Marchesi included the cadenza in her publication of

Variantes et points d’orgue in 1900.29 The anthology features three versions of the cadenza. Because of these publications, Pugliese claims it is “highly probable” that the cadenza with flute was added in 1889 by Marchesi and Melba.30 By 1889 audiences were finally ready to experience Lucia’s full-blown emotions.

Interpretations of the Mad Scene

Lucia’s ultimate demise of madness and death is not as one-dimensional as some of her companions’ in other operas, like Ophelia in Thomas’s Hamlet or Elvira in Bellini’s I puritani. Even though Lucia is constantly controlled by the masculine frame around her, she doesn’t give in without a fight. Compared to her literary counterpart in

The Bride of Lammermoor, operatic Lucia is much more vocal and expressive of her emotions and feelings. In the novel, Lucy and her madness are not central to the story.

She barely speaks and is actually not successful in killing her new husband. After Lucy

28 Pugliese, “The Origin,” 35. 29 Mathilde Marchesi, Variantes et points d'orgue: Composés pour les principaux airs du répertoire. (Paris: Heugel, 1900). 30 Pugliese, “The Origins,” 35.

tries to stab him, she is carried out by her brother and the priest during which she says the only understandable words in the entire episode of madness: “so you have ta’en up your bonny bridegroom?”31 Donizetti’s Lucia, however, has much more dialogue during the mad scene because of the art form. Music allows for a greater show of expression and frees her a little more. While she is still limited by certain musical structures and frames of the genre, she can tell more of her own story than in the novel, and the virtuosic elements of the mad scene give her greater power and dignity.

While Lucia is given more of a voice in the opera, the question remains of whether she was actually liberated from the frames surrounding her in those moments of madness or remained trapped until her death. Susan McClary and Mary Ann Smart provide two important perspectives in this discussion, and arrive at different conclusions.

In her book Feminine Endings,32 McClary argues that the representation of madwomen in opera and art in general is an expression of female sexual excess. This erotic energy is always contained within the masculine frames discussed earlier. In comparing Lucia to other madwomen, McClary concludes that she is the only one who manages to break out of the frame of harmony and rationality through her E flat at the end of the mad scene. Throughout the mad scene, the chorus keeps trying to bring

Lucia down to C-minor, but she keeps escaping their reins through elaborate coloratura that flies up to her defiant E flat, and even ultimately settling on an oddly cheerful cabaletta. McClary sees this resistance as triumphant in breaking through the masculine

31 Sir Walter Scott, The Bride of Lammermoor, (Adam & Charles Black, 1886). 32 McClary, Feminine Endings: Music, Gender, and Sexuality.

musical frames: “The frame itself has become contaminated, has gone mad.”33 McClary paints Lucia as a strong female symbol who was able to fight and overcome social conventions and contracts imposed upon women through her vocal defiance.

In “The Silencing of Lucia,”34 Smart agrees that Lucia does attempt to resist in her final moments, but Smart nevertheless comes to the opposite conclusion: that Lucia is defeated in the end. While the coloratura in the mad scene is unusual as the melismas are more elaborate than those written in saner scenes, Smart argues that

Lucia’s mad scene cadenzas are still subject to traditional music theory: they are at the ends of phrases and each new musical outburst is expected, not a surprise. Smart’s conclusion is that the madness is signified in the degree of the coloratura: the more excessive the coloratura is, the more uncanny and significant it becomes.

Lucia also resists form throughout the entirety of the mad scene. There is a very ambiguous transition found between the scena and the slow movement, showing a loss of control and liberation from the traditional form of arias. When the orchestra moves on from the recitative to the slow aria (as seen in measure 3 of Figure 2), Lucia resists the switch and persists with her recitative. When she does eventually move on to the aria

(at measure 14), it is a slow and mournful melody. Smart believes this can signify either a symptom of madness or a “deliberate flouting of formal convention.”35

33 Ibid., 98. 34 Mary Ann Smart, “The Silencing of Lucia,” Cambridge Opera Journal, vol. 4, no. 2 (1992): 119-141. 35 Ibid., 131.

Figure 2.

Most importantly, Smart discusses the quotations present in the scene. The orchestra quotes three earlier themes: “Regnava nel silenzio,” Lucia’s wedding, and the love duet with Edgardo. The first two are altered greatly, while the love duet is quoted literally. Smart argues that the presence of these quotations ties Lucia’s madness back to the past, and these ties are out of her control since they are only drawn by the orchestra. These quotations harken back to moments when Lucia was controlled and oppressed by the men in her life, so the quotations signify her final defeat by the plot as

she is “crushed by the weight of her past.”36 Unlike McClary, Smart believes that Lucia is in fact defeated in the end, and is not able to break free of the confines of masculine framing. She says that Lucia becomes nothing more than a “music box” in the following cabaletta, and is ultimately fully silenced during Edgardo’s final scene.

These opposing arguments for Lucia as both triumphant and defeated are compelling ones, and it seems to me that neither are incorrect. Lucia was ultimately driven to defeat because of the masculine frames surrounding her, however through her madness she was liberated from these chains and expectations. Therefore she is a victim through the lack of control she has over her own life, but in the very end she seizes back that control through her madness. This is evident through the murdering of

Arturo, the virtuosity of the scene and cadenza, and her spectacular flight up to the high

E flat.

Through the majority of the libretto, Lucia concedes time and again to her brother’s and priest’s wishes. No matter how much she wants something, even when it comes to experiencing true love, she compromises her own agency and wishes to satisfy the demands of the controlling men around her. The first time she takes matters into her own hands and seizes control is on her wedding night to Arturo. Through murdering him, she takes control of her narrative. While the means of taking control are quite extreme, she nonetheless is successful. It is interesting that we don’t actually see the murder, especially since it would have allowed for more of the drama and shock that operas thrive on. By not showing that moment, Cammarano and Donizetti seem to be

36 Smart, “The Silencing of Lucia,” 141.

glossing over her breakthrough, thus minimizing her moment of female liberation. We don’t get to experience and understand Lucia’s thoughts and emotions leading up to the murder, so it is easy to overlook this pivotal moment for her character.

The virtuosity of the mad scene’s runs, the flute cadenza, and the cabaletta make it difficult to view Lucia as a defeated victim. In fact, she seems stronger and more powerful than ever. Through envisioning her ideal life—marrying Edgardo—she is freed of the expectations that were controlling her. This freedom, even though it is only given through a hallucination, allows her to finally experience her joy and power, resulting in her virtuosic and exuberant vocal flights.

And lastly, the two incredible high E flats, at the end of the flute cadenza and cabaletta, seem to be a final confirmation that she is truly freed. As McClary mentioned in her argument, Lucia manages to break free of the chorus’ persistent C-minor harmony up to her E flat in the scene. This escape symbolizes her triumph in escaping her societal bonds, and living her life on her own terms.

While Lucia is triumphant in all these ways, she still was driven to madness and ultimate death. In that way, she is very much a victim, sentenced to an ugly demise by the constant controlling and stifling throughout her life. Although she enjoys a moment of freedom in the end, her unavoidable death underscores the tragic life she lived.

Therefore, I believe she was a victim—being controlled and manipulated all her life.

However, she at least experienced some freedom and happiness in her last moments, allowing her to break out of the bonds, finally, before her last breath.

Comparing Depictions of Madness in I puritani and Lucia di Lammermoor

Donizetti was not the only composer to delve into the topic of madness in 1835.

That same year, a few months before the premiere of Lucia and before Vincenzo Bellini’s untimely death, I puritani premiered in Paris. The main female character of this opera, Elvira, also experiences similar episodes to Lucia’s and there are many interesting parallels between these two portrayals.

Count Carlo Pepoli’s libretto for I puritani is based on the play Têtes Rondes et Cavaliers by J.-A. F.-P. Ancelot and J. X. Boniface dit Saintine. The opera was written for the Théâtre Italien in Paris by Bellini, one of the most famous operatic composers of the time. It is a melodramma serio in three acts that takes place during the English Civil War and depicts a love triangle. This opera was Bellini’s last, as he died an early death in September of 1835, just a few days before the premiere of Lucia di Lammermoor. However, his final opera was an immediate success and it spread rapidly through

Europe.

The plot of I puritani concerns the English Civil War of the 1640s, fought between the Puritans and Royalists. The opera opens with the joyous news of Elvira’s wedding to

Arturo. We then learn that Elvira’s father actually promised her to another man,

Riccardo. However, Elvira’s Uncle Giorgio convinced her father to let her marry the man she truly loves. Riccardo is surprised and hurt by this sudden change of plans.

On the day of their wedding, Arturo, a Royalist, meets a mysterious woman. It turns out that she is the widow of the executed King Charles I. Arturo promises to help

get her to safety and insists that she should not worry about disrupting his wedding plans, as her safety is imperative. To safely sneak her out of the town, they dress her in

Elvira’s wedding veil and try to escape. Riccardo happens upon them and confronts the two of them, thinking that it is Elvira and Arturo. Once he learns that this is the Queen, he promises to say nothing and let them leave. Later that day when the wedding is about to begin, people begin to wonder where Arturo is. Riccardo tells the wedding party that Arturo and another woman have fled together. Elvira, shocked by this news, begins to show signs of madness, now believing that she has been abandoned at the altar by the man she loves.

In act two, Riccardo brings news that Arturo is now a political fugitive. At this point, Elvira is clearly showing signs of mental instability from longing for Arturo to return. In her madness, she believes that Riccardo is Arturo and sings to him, imagining that he has returned and they can finally get married. The others encourage Riccardo to go save Arturo for Elvira’s sake, and Riccardo agrees on the condition that if he appears in the next day’s battle he will have no choice but to kill him.

Act three takes place three months later. Arturo is still a fugitive on the run, now searching for Elvira. Stumbling through the woods, he hears her singing. They finally reunite and Arturo explains that he always loved her, but had to save the Queen.

Soldiers find them and Elvira begins to exhibit signs of madness again, concerned that they will be separated a second time. The soldiers demand Arturo’s execution, but at that very moment, a herald announces that the Royalists have been defeated and all prisoners are to be pardoned. Elvira and Arturo are finally able to live happily together.

When examining the libretti of I puritani and Lucia di Lammermoor, quite a few notable parallels appear. Both operas are set in the seventeenth century and revolve around a woman who is robbed of marrying the man she loves by political circumstances: a family rivalry for Lucia and a civil war for Elvira. Additionally, their lovers, Edgardo and Arturo, both decided to leave after pledging their love to the women. Elvira and Lucia had no control or influence in the politics around them or the choice of their lover to leave. Arturo could have explained to Elvira why he had to leave so quickly; he and the Queen saw her before they left. However, he made the decision himself. Both these women are left out of the decision-making, resulting in their strong feelings of helplessness and loss of control. This is likely why they both experience fits of madness. Elvira’s sanity is upset when thinking or talking about Arturo’s abandonment. Lucia murders the man she was forced to marry and dies from madness after Edgardo curses her for breaking their promise. All hope of living the life she truly wants disappears. These women were driven to madness as it was their only escape from dealing with constant pain and helplessness.

Elvira has a few episodes of madness in the opera, but her main mad scene takes place in act two. This scene has a handful of striking similarities with Lucia’s mad scene. Like Lucia, Elvira enters the hall wearing a white gown, usually depicted with a wedding veil as well.37 She is also surrounded by people who watch her madness with pity, including Riccardo and her uncle. Both mad scenes are mainly in the key of E flat and many singers choose to interpolate high E flats in their cadenzas. And lastly, both

37 Although Arturo and the Queen took Elvira’s wedding veil as a disguise while fleeing, some productions show soldiers returning with the veil after finding it at the end of act one, as proof of Arturo’s abandonment. Elvira then enters for her mad scene wearing or carrying that veil in act two.

Lucia and Elvira have similar hallucinations. They both imagine the man they love is with them and they are finally getting married. These similarities in structure and plot are striking, but this is where the similarities end.

When analyzing the mad scenes more deeply, it becomes clear that Lucia and

Elvira experience two very different kinds of madness. Lucia exhibits a frenzied and turbulent madness while Elvira experiences a more rational exhibition of grief and intense denial. Lucia’s melodic lines in the recitative and aria sections of the scene are disjointed and unexpected, therefore each new phrase, musical and textual, is a surprising and unexpected burst as she continues her hallucination. Elvira, on the other hand, sings a more linear melodic line. While Lucia’s mad scene is dotted with sudden, powerful bouts of coloratura and cadenzas that signal her unstable mental state, Elvira doesn’t sing any such runs in the majority of her scene. Her only clear vocal flights take place in the cabaletta.

At the end of their scenes, both characters have a classic cabaletta, a faster dance-like movement which is repeated with embellishments. Lucia’s and Elvira’s cabalettas both feature chromaticism, however, Elvira’s has a substantial amount of chromatic sequences. The second half of her cabaletta almost exclusively consists of sequential movement, making the coming phrases quite predictable. This sequential movement adds a sense of stability to the music and Elvira’s mental state, while at the same time, the quick chromatic runs signify an unstable musical and mental state. The combination of these two musical devices creates a profound sense of loss and grief.

Elvira’s descending chromatic sequences sound like sighs of pain and sorrow rather than madness.

In addition to chromaticism, interpolations of extremely high notes are often used by singers and composers to depict disturbed emotional states. Therefore, it is traditional for singers to interpolate high E flats while performing both characters’ mad scenes. Lucia usually has two, at the end of the flute cadenza and at the end of the cabaletta, and Elvira has one, at the end of her cabaletta. This final cadenza of Elvira’s mad scene does not end on the E flat, unlike both of Lucia’s high Es. In Elvira’s case, it is the dominant which then resolves down to an A flat. Her agency is limited by the harmonic structure. She isn’t successful in escaping the social and harmonic bounds around her like Lucia, rather she is stuck within a constant state of longing and sadness.

This is the biggest difference between Lucia and Elvira. Lucia’s madness is actually a liberation for her, as it frees her from the constraints placed upon her life, but Elvira’s madness does the opposite: it entraps and contains her in the pain and longing she feels after Arturo’s abandonment.38

Lucia uses the new freedom and power found in her madness to finally take action into her own hands and kill her husband, so she can marry the man she truly loves. Elvira makes no active progression while in her states of madness. In Lucia’s hallucination, she visualizes the act of marrying Edgardo, allowing her to make her own decision. However, Elvira only hallucinates trying to bring Arturo back to her and there is

38 According to Mary Ann Smart in her chapter “Bellini’s Unseen Voices” from Mimomania: Music and Gesture in Nineteenth-Century Opera, Elvira “teeters between sanity and madness and between presence and invisibility,” and she is never fully present as a character (page 73). In every act her voice is first heard off-stage, and only later does she come into view. These fluctuations make her seem even more trapped and out of control.

no actual union between them in her hallucination, adding to the sense of unfulfilled longing. Her fluid, legato melodic lines intensify this longing and point to grief instead of madness. The sequences of descending chromaticism sound more like sighs of sorrow rather than flights of madness, and the constant interjections by Riccardo and her uncle depict pity for her grief. Elvira’s madness is not liberating to her; it controls and traps her until Arturo returns to set her free. While Lucia also grieves in her madness and seems to be aware that her death is imminent, unlike Elvira, she still leaves the world on her own terms. This final flight of madness affords her freedom from her brother, the priest, and everyone else’s controlling opinions and she is able to break out of the patriarchal frame surrounding her.

Singers’ Interpretations

As Lucia is such a complex character with many available interpretations, singers have approached the role and presented her in many different ways as well as grown greatly as artists through that process. Some of the most notable performers of Lucia are Maria Callas, Dame Joan Sutherland, and Beverly Sills. Even looking at just these three artists, we find a wide range of interpretation, expanding our understanding of

Lucia as a character. In recent operatic history, there seem to be two main ways of approaching a dramatic and virtuosic role like Lucia: either you emphasize the beauty of your voice and the cadenzas or you dig into the drama and emotion of the character, sometimes to the extent that it reduces the “pretty” quality of a voice.

The most influential portrayal of Lucia is Maria Callas’ (1923-1977), which she first performed in 1952 in Mexico City. She took a role that was long sung by light coloratura sopranos who wanted to solely show off their range and agility, but instead

Callas showed how the role could be “something of a blank canvas onto which the singer could cast her musical and dramatic interpretation.”39 Instead of just using the role as an opportunity to showcase her voice, Callas dug into the extremely dramatic and emotional aspects of Lucia’s character and situation, using those as a driving force for her portrayal. To do this, she worked closely with Tullio Serafin (1878-1968), who is considered the most influential Lucia conductor in history. Over the years, singers had begun to use the virtuosic music to merely show off their voices, losing the original emotional drive behind musical phrases. He reintroduced the idea that the opera is a musical drama, and that every musical choice must serve a communicative purpose.

The two worked closely to reimagine how to best present Lucia as a full, realistic character. In doing so, Callas paved the way for fuller voices to sing the role, and for a more dramatic and realistic portrayal of Lucia. She is acknowledged by many as being a prominent figure in heralding a new age of operatic performance, one that uses the music to really explore and develop the emotions of a character.

Another important figure when discussing Lucia is Dame Joan Sutherland

(1926-2010), as her portrayal of Lucia is one we most associate with the character now.

However, she generally preferred the opposite approach in performances: beauty over drama. Sutherland focused on showcasing her voice, sometimes to the detriment of

39 Nancy Guy, “From Stardom to Retirement,” in The Magic of Beverly Sills. (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2015), 55–80.

drama and diction, but audiences loved listening to her stunning voice and impeccable control. Her first Covent Garden performance as Lucia was in February of 1959. This challenging role forced her to adopt a more dramatic style of performance, so she spent a great deal of time preparing for it. Sutherland coached the role with her husband,

Richard Bonynge, a conductor and pianist who was very skilled in the Italian language and helped her master the pronunciation and fully understand the libretto. She also went to Venice to study with Tullio Serafin (as Callas did), and together they prepared her upcoming roles in Lucia, I puritani, La sonnambula, and Norma.40 Through her work with Serafin, Sutherland’s Lucia became “not only brilliantly precise; it [became] expressive, with phrases meaningfully, elegantly sculpted and sensitive to the words, in a manner we don't normally associate with Sutherland in her maturity.”41 She also worked on her acting with Franco Zeffirelli, who was renowned for teaching singers to act. He realized that she could run across the stage without losing her vocal stamina, so he had her running around in her madness and hallucinations, adding more urgency and unpredictability to the scene. Zeffirelli also introduced the iconic blood-stained white nightgown that we now so closely associate with Lucia.

After all this preparation and work into really understanding the character, rehearsals began at Covent Garden. It is said that Maria Callas, already renowned for her portrayal of Lucia, watched the final dress rehearsal of the production. She was impressed, and was actually overheard saying “That is not good” after seeing the mad

40 David J. Baker, “Tempo Rubato,” Opera News, vol. 72, no. 9 (March 2008): 18. 41 Ibid., 18.

scene. When questioned by her companion at the theater, she apparently replied “It is too good.”42

The Covent Garden production premiered on February 17, 1959 to overwhelming praise and delight. Sutherland received a thunderous standing ovation after the mad scene. According to Norma Major, “Joan had sung with greater freedom and power than ever before and her voice had gained in richness and colour and showed a remarkable fullness in the upper register. She brought a new dramatic intensity to her performance which was a revelation, and replacing her former diffidence there was a new expressiveness in gesture and bearing.”43 This performance of Lucia was a turning point in Dame Joan Sutherland’s career. It allowed her to grow greatly as an artist and catapulted her to the international stage. It also solidified the stunning visual of Lucia as a frenzied force in a white gown.

Another singer who grew greatly as an artist through her portrayal of the character was Beverly Sills (1929-2007). Lucia was her first full bel canto role, debuted in Fort Worth, Texas in 1968, and she went on to sing the character more than one hundred times throughout her career. Uniquely, Sills had her vocal coach, Roland

Gagnon, compose new cadenzas and interpolations for her debut in Texas.44 Her first performance of Lucia was quite sweet and innocent, however the next year she performed the role at the New York City Opera and had already altered her portrayal of the character greatly by that time. This was the first time in a century that the full opera was presented in New York City, allowing her to gain a greater understanding of the

42 Norma Major, Joan Sutherland: The Authorized Biography. (Boston: Little, Brown, 1994), 50. 43 Ibid., 52. 44 Guy, “From Stardom to Retirement,” 61.

character. Gagnon shortened her original ornamentations, and “as a result, her Lucia became less of a sweet and young innocent who simply snapped under pressure, and more of an emotionally intense young woman who was psychologically unstable from her very first scene.”45 Sills said that she sang the mad scene cadenzas as if she were speaking to different characters, using coloratura as words. A review from the opening night stated, “One heard and saw all the changes of mood—from innocence to despair and madness—that can be extracted from the role… And yet the technique was there in brilliant quantity, and every high E-flat was hit squarely and without apparent effort...

Again, she was setting a new standard—throwing off the fioritura not as if it were an athletic stunt but as if it were an integral ingredient in a very human character.”46 Sills found a comfortable balance between creating beautiful music that showed off her incredible voice while also adding depth to the character.

These three sopranos each interpreted and brought life to Lucia differently, deepening our understanding of her as a character, while also growing quite a bit as artists through the process of learning to play Lucia. This shows how complex a character she is—Lucia is not merely a girl who is driven to madness. This role’s music affords singers an opportunity to showcase their virtuosic talent while the intense drama allows singers to explore and convey strong emotions on stage.

Many singers today reference these women’s portrayals of Lucia as inspiration for their own performances. Natalie Dessay was the 58th Lucia at the Metropolitan

Opera in their 2007 production of Lucia di Lammermoor. When asked about how she

45 Ibid., 61-62. 46 Ibid., 170-171.

approaches and thinks of the high notes at the end of the mad scene, Dessay said,

“You don't sing it because it's written but because it expresses despair, joy… That's how

I see these extra embellishments, as conveying all that's happening in the character's head. Maybe in the past, people were more interested in voice and beautiful sounds.

Maria Callas changed that. She arrived, brought a new way of doing opera, opened the way for us. We don't have any excuse now for not doing it!"47

47 David J.Baker, “Mad About the Girl. (Cover Story),” Opera News, vol. 72, no. 3 (Sept. 2007), 22.

Conclusion

Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor is an opera that has stood the test of time and captivated audiences since 1835. It has evolved over its 185 years of existence, keeping audiences excited and engaged even as the times changed. The addition of the flute cadenza in the mad scene is a perfect example of how smart singers and coaches built and expanded upon Donizetti’s strong foundation. The complex character of Lucia has also allowed these singers, like Callas, Sutherland, and Sills, to grow as performers and guide the evolution of our understanding of Lucia. The opera’s depiction of duty, doomed love, and madness has remained gripping across societies and decades.

Lucia’s character and ultimate fate is quite telling of the changing perceptions in madness over the years. At the time of Donizetti, assigning madness to female characters was a method of controlling and diminishing women, allowing men to easily pass off a strong or emotional woman as hysterical or mad, as evident in I puritani. In operas like Lucia, it served a similar function of taming a female character who didn’t fit the mold of an innocent, lovely girl. However, as perceptions and the scientific understanding of madness evolved, it became easier to see how Lucia’s madness could be viewed through a different light. While the hysterics were used to tame her character in the end, now through a feminist lens, we can see how she was actually liberated through the madness—how she did not need to live by her family and society’s rules and expectations in those moments.

Singers and audiences seemed to pick up subconsciously on this strength and freedom as the mad scene evolved to become increasingly virtuosic. The creation and success of the famous cadenza by Mathilde Marchesi shows that people wanted to hear a triumphant and powerful end for Lucia rather than let her die feebly, or in silence.

They wanted to imagine Lucia’s happy ending, her marriage to Edgardo, alongside her.

This desire shows a strong sense of empathy towards Lucia, as audiences understood the lack of control and freedom she experienced in life. They sympathize with her and bask in her final moments of freedom and joy.

The character of Lucia has allowed women to feel understood and seen, as they watched her on stage going through struggles similar to their own. She has allowed men to understand how their control of women around them can be too overpowering and damaging. She has brought the issue of female madness to the forefront of peoples’ minds and helped us gain a better understanding of madness. She has allowed many singers to grow as performers and break out into an international stage.

Lucia’s emotions, words, and music have done all this for nearly two centuries, and she undoubtedly will continue to challenge audiences and musicians in the future.

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