Oh, I got plenty o’ nuttin’” presents the same problem as other strophic arias: it is easy to get the words of the verses mixed up. Notice I do not say “despite” the familiarity of the piece, since I believe that over-familiarity is usually the culprit: the words become so ingrained that they lose their connection to meaning. In the first verse, Porgy explains that, unlike materialists, he doesn’t covet possessions and is thus free of the fear of losing them (he needn’t lock the door if he has nothing to steal). In the second verse, he contrasts his spiritual values love of life and nature with the guilt-ridden religion of materialists. The first verse concentrates on the possessions he doesn’t have (car, mule) or doesn’t care about (rug); the second verse enumerates the things that he does value (sun, moon, stars). I think that Gershwin has intentionally accompanied the second verse (pleasure in nature) with legato choral humming, and not the first verse (disdain for material values). One can see the basic difference between the verses even from the rhyming words alone first verse: “door…floor…what for?” second verse: pray (all the) day…(devil) away.” (Whenever memory is an issue, I advocate examining the rhymes and alliteration, if any.) Am I belaboring the obvious? Certainly. But taking conscious note of the obvious can be a great aid to committing a text to memory. Interestingly, the distinctive chord structure of this aria’s recurring phrase also accompanies Porgy’s invocation to the dice in the first act “Oh little stars.” What is the connection? Porgy calls the dice “stars” and asks that they roll him “a sun and a moon.” While all the gamblers try to cajole the dice, Porgy alone offers them a prayer a pagan prayer, of course. Porgy is a member of his community and often speaks in conventional Christian terms (e.g., he prays to God in order to encourage others to contribute to Robbins’s burial). But Porgy is also convinced that his being crippled gives him special powers denied to others. “I got plenty” celebrates spiritual joy derived from being a part of nature. He does not reject religion, but through his unique spiritual powers, he can bypass it.
Todd Duncan, who created the role of Porgy, investing it forever with his own warm musical personality, wrote that Gershwin could be resentful when the singer failed to observe “a rhythmic pattern or an off-beat pulsation which [Gershwin] had so carefully calculated.” Therefore, while some kinds of liberties may be appropriate to this opera, we should take care never to simplify its rhythms.
Recorded excerpts sung by Lawrence Tibbett and Helen Jepson were issued as “supervised” by the composer. The extremely slow tempo Tibbett takes for this aria proves surprisingly effective.
I am not suggesting any obligation to imitate it; Gershwin might have recognized that the tempo worked for Tibbett without wanting it to become general practice. However, Tibbett’s and Duncan’s recordings are direct links to the composer, and therefore have a special significance to interpreters. (I place no weight on the private recording of Gershwin’s orchestral reading, since the players were unfamiliar with the music and Gershwin was an inexperienced conductor.)
