I've been listening to opera a good deal this weekend. The colder november weather calls for some vibrato. I was also put in the opera mind on Friday night at a concert where Danielle told me that the spring community chorus will sing opera choruses at its April concert. I thought of the chorus I enjoy most: the Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves by Verdi, from the opera Nabucco (which I have never seen).
This video shows the scene. The staging I find powerful, even though I don't know the opera well - the slaves' stillness during their chorus seems to represent their bondage; their exhaustion. And the oversize chains are evocative, whereas is someone had described them to me I might have thought they sounded tacky. I guess props need to be much larger than life if they're going to make an impact on the back row of the balcony section.
The music is beautiful; the lyrics are poignant to read because they so aptly describe the Palestinian situation today. Here is the original Italian and an English translation:
The invocation of the Golden harp of our prophets which hangs silently on the willows, is beautiful. Indeed the silence on the Palestinian issue is painful, where songs might be sung of a homeland, so beautiful and so lost; of memories, so dear and yet so deadly.
This video shows the scene. The staging I find powerful, even though I don't know the opera well - the slaves' stillness during their chorus seems to represent their bondage; their exhaustion. And the oversize chains are evocative, whereas is someone had described them to me I might have thought they sounded tacky. I guess props need to be much larger than life if they're going to make an impact on the back row of the balcony section.
The music is beautiful; the lyrics are poignant to read because they so aptly describe the Palestinian situation today. Here is the original Italian and an English translation:
“Va pensiero” in Original Italian
Va', pensiero, sull'ali dorate;
Va, ti posa sui clivi, sui colli, ove olezzano tepide e molli l'aure dolci del suolo natal! Del Giordano le rive saluta, di Sionne le torri atterrate… Oh mia Patria sì bella e perduta! O membranza sì cara e fatal! Arpa d'or dei fatidici vati, perché muta dal salice pendi? Le memorie nel petto raccendi, ci favella del tempo che fu! O simile di Solima ai fati, traggi un suono di crudo lamento; o t'ispiri il Signore un concento che ne infonda al patire virtù! | “Va pensiero” English Translation
Hasten thoughts on golden wings.
Hasten and rest on the densely wooded hills, where warm and fragrant and soft are the gentle breezes of our native land! The banks of the Jordan we greet and the towers of Zion. O, my homeland, so beautiful and lost! O memories, so dear and yet so deadly! Golden harp of our prophets, why do you hang silently on the willow? Rekindle the memories of our hearts, and speak of the times gone by! Or, like the fateful Solomon, draw a lament of raw sound; or permit the Lord to inspire us to endure our suffering! |
Palestinians try to draw out a lament of raw sound, but the consumerism bought by the Oslo accords rather tamps down the protests, so those who are willing to resist for justice are left to ask the Lord to inspire them to endure their suffering.
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