“I, too, dislike it,” declares Marianne Moore in the opening line of her much-anthologized poem, “Poetry,” But she then goes on to say what poetry could and should be. This matter of opera in translation—so often clumsy, insipid, lifeless, or archaic—certainly invites the same response. And yet, and yet…what if?
Consider the long line of great lyricists from our own theatrical tradition, such as Porter, Gershwin, Hart, Hammerstein, and Sondheim. And what about going back farther, to the great Elizabethan songwriters? Have they not proven that English is an eminently singable language? And couldn’t similar skills be applied to the operatic theater?
Imagine the rewards! It would remove a barrier that alienates a large potential audience in this mostly English-speaking country of ours. Translation into English would bring direct communication in a language unmatched for agility, variety of texture and range of color, a language with everyday words that go straight to the heart, that pull one into the drama by making it vivid, comprehensible, and perhaps even close to home. In short, a language that evokes and resonates as only your own language can.
A good translation provides a fresh look at libretti that, on the whole, tend to be under-rated and under-appreciated. While remaining essentially true to the original, it both clarifies and illuminates, reaffirming the marriage of words and music that engendered opera in the first place. The original words inspired the composer to soar—so it is up to the translator to reverse the process: Let the music inspire the words.
Let us applaud companies such as Skylight, Ohio Light Opera, Opera of St. Louis (may their number increase!) that make a practice of performing opera in English, while noting that in Europe it has long been the norm to present opera in the language of the country in which it is sung.
Cio-Cio San ecstatically envisions the return of her American husband: “On the day I dream of…” [1]
On the operatic stage I dream of, the Queen of the Night lashes out in fury: “The fire of hell has made my heart a furnace.” [2] And Lucia’s madness gives way to a moment of heartbreaking clarity: “Scatter my grave with roses; weep when I wake no longer.” [3]
Don Giovanni woos Zerlina: “Melting in soft surrender, your pretty hand in mine.” [4] And Zerlina succeeds in melting jealous Masetto: “Battle, battle, o brave Masetto! Wage a war on your Zerlina.” [5] Donna Anna reassures her long-suffering lover: “Far, oh far from cold and cruel…” [6]
Figaro takes on the Count: “On with the dance! Allow me the pleasure.” [7] The Count responds: “That I should pine and suffer, and see my servant prosper!” [8] And the Countess seeks for solace: “Source of love, console my sorrow.” [9]
Old Don Pasquale preens himself before meeting his new bride: “Wrinkles and dentures plague me no longer. Ripe for adventures, I go forth to conquer.” [10] But soon he discovers that this “marriage” is more than he bargained for: “As total disaster what wife has surpassed her?” [11]
Dandini sizes up Cinderella’s less-than-perfect half-sisters: “Hard as nails, cold as ice, silly, shallow, vain and vicious—otherwise they’re very nice.” [12]
Arrogant Eugene Onegin dismisses his critics: “The barnyard cackle of public opinion!” [13] But his tone changes after being rejected by the person he has finally come to worship: “Alone! I’ve lost! Only the dark is left…” [14]
Norma, crazed by hurt and jealousy, turns the tables on the lover who has abandoned her: “I shall feast upon your anguish…your despair will equal mine.” [15]
Scarpia defines himself: “Hungry, I see what I want and pursue it.” [16] Tosca looks down at Scarpia’s dead body: “Before him once the high and mighty trembled.” [17]
Disdainful Adina scoffs at the notion of a love elixir: “What potential in the potion for the awkward and the shy! Jungle passion, raw emotion from a bottle you can buy.” [18] Nemorino spots a tiny, furtive sign of hope: “Only a tear I barely saw…” [19]
Perichole, the street singer, becomes impatient with the male sex: “You men! You men! My God, you men are dense!” [20] Guglielmo returns the compliment: “You’re my favorite of the sexes but the problem that perplexes is to find the reason why.” [21]
Manon Lescaut surveys the newly acquired luxury for which she cast aside true love: “Here, soft and silken tapestries, gilded chairs, Persian carpets, yet a silence like the chill of death and the stillness of a frozen winter.” [22]
The merry wives of Windsor plot to get even with Sir John Falstaff: “We’ll find the appetizing bait to lure the fellow to his fate. Together we shall hatch a plan to spring a trap and catch a man.” [23]
In this pulsating world, there is no need to go searching for strained concepts to make opera fresh and vital.
For identification of these snippets and for more extended excerpts, please turn to the Pocket Opera Web site: www.pocketopera.org/whytranslation.htm. All are invited to sing along. Page numbers refer to the Schirmer edition, unless otherwise noted.
