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pallas_athena) wrote2009-10-01 11:48 pm
pallas_athena) wrote2009-10-01 11:48 pm
Sex, drugs and baroque roles III
In the title of these posts, I promised you sex.
I am singing a part written for Francesco Bernardi, stage name Senesino. He was one of the great opera stars of his day, and he was able to be so because, at age thirteen, he had been castrated. He was the son of a Sienese barber; since barbers often doubled as surgeons, his father would have known exactly what the operation entailed and would have sent his son to the best surgeon he knew. Thousands of families made a less well-informed choice every year -- some in the belief that castration alone would give their child the vocal talent to make them a fortune. (Only one singer, Caffarelli, is on record as having such musical ambitions as a child that he asked to be castrated.) Needless to say, disappointment was the norm; surgery-related deaths were also frequent. Only a small number of the survivors would have the talent, intelligence, dedication and luck to make a living singing in opera companies or church choirs.
from the Wikipedia entry (which is excellent, and well worth a look):
With his big ribcage and small larynx, a well-trained castrato could sing for a full minute or longer on one breath. Handel's music is full of long coloratura passages that take advantage of this unique ability. Most modern singers have to breathe in the middle of these; I certainly often do!
For someone like Senesino, the rewards were great. Handel wrote him no fewer than seventeen leading roles, and he was often paid more to sing them than Handel was to write them. These characters were heroes, generals and kings; very different, in other words, from the male roles later written for female, cross-dressing mezzo-sopranos. Male roles written for women tend to be young lovers with more enthusiasm than success like Siebel in Faust and Cherubino in Figaro, or terribly effete creatures like Prince Orlofsky and the splendid teen-goth Composer in Ariadne auf Naxos. I'm no stranger to trousers, but a character like Caesar is considerably more virile than I'm used to.
As well as a brilliant general and an able politician, Julius Caesar was a prolific lover of women (and possibly also some men.) Of Senesino's love life, I can find not a whisper-- only that an English soprano, Anastasia Robinson, was once embarrassed by his "too near approach" onstage. From here:
One can't help but feel for Senesino here. Castrati were popular both as "safe" objects of sexual adulation and as lovers. Many were perfectly capable of sustaining an erection (see the linked article for details), and they acquired a reputation for being as virtuosic in bed as they were in song. Though Senesino was by no means as handsome as his colleague Farinelli, he would have had no trouble finding willing partners if he wanted them. I hope, at least, that his performance as Caesar made people of taste and discernment want to shag him.
Handel, too, kept his love life under wraps. He never married, and the quest for any hint of an affair with anyone-- male or female-- has been driving biographers crazy since time immemorial. He may, of course, simply have been celibate (which doesn't necessarily imply a lack of passion.) There is passion in the music; there is love there, for sure. Is there sex? Judge for yourself. Cleopatra is a sex-bomb of a character, and her playful, teasing music is certainly very sensual.
YouTube, audio only: Magdalena Kozena singing "V'adoro, pupille." Check out those ornaments...!
Text and translation:
So that's where I am: standing in the shoes of the sexually vigorous Caesar, the castrato Senesino, and the ambiguous Handel. It is a somewhat confusing position, but on the other hand, these are some seriously stylish shoes.
Less than a week now until the first performance! Email david.crown@virgin.net to book tickets.
Thursday 8th and Saturday 10th October, 7.30 pm
St Michael's at the Northgate, Cornmarket Street, Oxford
Tickets £10/students £5
I am singing a part written for Francesco Bernardi, stage name Senesino. He was one of the great opera stars of his day, and he was able to be so because, at age thirteen, he had been castrated. He was the son of a Sienese barber; since barbers often doubled as surgeons, his father would have known exactly what the operation entailed and would have sent his son to the best surgeon he knew. Thousands of families made a less well-informed choice every year -- some in the belief that castration alone would give their child the vocal talent to make them a fortune. (Only one singer, Caffarelli, is on record as having such musical ambitions as a child that he asked to be castrated.) Needless to say, disappointment was the norm; surgery-related deaths were also frequent. Only a small number of the survivors would have the talent, intelligence, dedication and luck to make a living singing in opera companies or church choirs.
from the Wikipedia entry (which is excellent, and well worth a look):
As the castrato's body grew, his lack of testosterone meant that his epiphyses (bone-joints) did not harden in the normal manner. Thus the limbs of the castrati often grew unusually long, as did the bones of their ribs. This, combined with intensive training, gave them unrivalled lung-power and breath capacity. Operating through small, child-sized vocal cords, their voices were also extraordinarily flexible.
With his big ribcage and small larynx, a well-trained castrato could sing for a full minute or longer on one breath. Handel's music is full of long coloratura passages that take advantage of this unique ability. Most modern singers have to breathe in the middle of these; I certainly often do!
For someone like Senesino, the rewards were great. Handel wrote him no fewer than seventeen leading roles, and he was often paid more to sing them than Handel was to write them. These characters were heroes, generals and kings; very different, in other words, from the male roles later written for female, cross-dressing mezzo-sopranos. Male roles written for women tend to be young lovers with more enthusiasm than success like Siebel in Faust and Cherubino in Figaro, or terribly effete creatures like Prince Orlofsky and the splendid teen-goth Composer in Ariadne auf Naxos. I'm no stranger to trousers, but a character like Caesar is considerably more virile than I'm used to.
As well as a brilliant general and an able politician, Julius Caesar was a prolific lover of women (and possibly also some men.) Of Senesino's love life, I can find not a whisper-- only that an English soprano, Anastasia Robinson, was once embarrassed by his "too near approach" onstage. From here:
Her disappearance from the stage was a puzzle to many, and only a few of her nearest friends knew that she had secretly married the Earl of Peterborough. In 1724 Peterborough publicly defended Robinson when she had been embarassed by Senesino's 'too near approach' during a public rehearsal. Peterborough challenged Senesino, made him apologise publicly on bended knee, and then caned him. Robinson was never to appear on stage again, and her marriage was not publicly acknowledged until many years later, just before Peterborough died.
One can't help but feel for Senesino here. Castrati were popular both as "safe" objects of sexual adulation and as lovers. Many were perfectly capable of sustaining an erection (see the linked article for details), and they acquired a reputation for being as virtuosic in bed as they were in song. Though Senesino was by no means as handsome as his colleague Farinelli, he would have had no trouble finding willing partners if he wanted them. I hope, at least, that his performance as Caesar made people of taste and discernment want to shag him.
Handel, too, kept his love life under wraps. He never married, and the quest for any hint of an affair with anyone-- male or female-- has been driving biographers crazy since time immemorial. He may, of course, simply have been celibate (which doesn't necessarily imply a lack of passion.) There is passion in the music; there is love there, for sure. Is there sex? Judge for yourself. Cleopatra is a sex-bomb of a character, and her playful, teasing music is certainly very sensual.
YouTube, audio only: Magdalena Kozena singing "V'adoro, pupille." Check out those ornaments...!
Text and translation:
V'adoro, pupille,
Saette d'amore,
Le vostre faville
Son grate nel sen.
Pietose vi brama
Il mesto mio core,
Ch’ogn’ora vi chiama
L’amato suo ben.
I adore you, o eyes, darts of love!
Your sparks are welcome in my breast.
Look with pity on my sad heart,
Which always calls you its dear beloved.
So that's where I am: standing in the shoes of the sexually vigorous Caesar, the castrato Senesino, and the ambiguous Handel. It is a somewhat confusing position, but on the other hand, these are some seriously stylish shoes.
Less than a week now until the first performance! Email david.crown@virgin.net to book tickets.
Thursday 8th and Saturday 10th October, 7.30 pm
St Michael's at the Northgate, Cornmarket Street, Oxford
Tickets £10/students £5
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