The weight of Adalgisa’s prayer scene in the first act of Bellini’s Norma is concentrated in recitative. Here, then, the problem of defining “recitative” is vitally important. The word is both an invitation to adopt a style of singing closer to speaking – less sustained – than cantabile, and also an invitation to favor the rhythm of the language over the notated values of the music. To sing recitative in rhythm does not make one “faithful” to the composer since it contradicts his directive “recitativo.” (But why, one may ask, would the composer not simply write the note values he wants and demand that the performer observe them exactly? Modern composers have indeed attempted just that, and the recitatives of the Music Master in Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos or of Shadow in Stravinsky’s The Rake’s Progress show how appallingly complicated such notation can become – a complication unimaginable in Bellini’s day.)
But how do we judge the degree to which we may disregard the notated rhythms? We may infer two generalizations: the more busy and detailed the orchestral accompaniment (as in, for example, some accompanied recitatives in Mozart’s Idomeneo), the more we are obliged to sing in time, and vice versa. The less the accents and syntax of the words are served by the notation, the more the composer expects us to let the text dictate the rhythm. Until the closing Largo, everything in the Adalgisa scene suggests an unmetered delivery.
Adalgisa’s first comment is a simple observation: the forest is cleared and the rite is over. This then leads to thoughts of increasing emotional weight: since she is alone, she can now indulge in recalling her first meeting with her lover, Pollione, in this very place. If the singer tries to invest the first phrase with lyric intensity, the contrast with all that follows is weakened. Further, to sing this phrase in the notated rhythm would be to give a linguistically false emphasis to the first syllable of “compiuto,” and a false lengthening to the second syllable of “rito.” In the phrase “che mi rende rubella al tempio, al Dio,” one may heighten the painful reflection that in loving Pollione she rebels against not only the temple, but God as well, by delaying the words “al Dio,” as though reluctant to utter them. Bellini demands that the exclamation “Fosse l’ultima almen!” (let that first meeting be the last!) be sung with “passionate force.” However, in the following admission to herself that she is too weak to renounce Pollione, the orchestra’s pianissimo and change of key suggest that “Vano desio!” be rendered as a soft sigh. The sentence that follows is a very long one, with many poetic inversions of words. If we are to understand that the assertion “an irresistible force drags me here” is supported by Adalgisa’s belief that her heart requires the nourishment of his presence, and that the atmosphere itself repeats the sound of his voice, we must bind the sentences together: in a word, sing rapidly!
At the end of the closing cantabile section, the absence of a rest between “abbi pieta” (have pity) and “perduta io son” (I am lost) may seem opposed to the break between the two little clauses of the text. I recommend singing this “perduta” (four sixteenth-notes) with sudden softness. This clarifies the text without breaking the vocal line, and distinguishes her plea to God from her shameful admission that she is lost to virtue. Presumably, she repeats the word for emphasis, and Bellini sets it with the highest note in the entire scena, sustained by an extended fermata. This suggests to me that the phrase might be best served by a long crescendo on the fermata, and an impetuous sweep down its wide range – an octave and a fifth.
