Impressions: Verdi's La Traviata

On Friday, Jase and I went to the latest stop on our musical tour of all that Boston has to offer, Verdi's La Traviata at the Majestic Theatre by Emerson. It was put on by Teatro Lirico D'Europa, a fantastic company that I intend to see again next time they are in town.



Basically, La Traviata's plot was lifted wholesale by Baz Luhrmann for his movie Moulin Rouge. I just spent a bit of time on the wiki entry for that movie and it really re-asserts the fact that Luhrmann is a genius. I mean, taking an artform that is probably not accessible to a lot of people, or at least not widely viewed, and transforming it into something that shows how much emotion modern music can contain. Amazing. Jason and I discussed this during one of the intermissions. I never realized, though, that his idea to use modern music stemmed from Orpheus. He wanted Christian to seem like something of a musical savant, much like Orpheus was.



Anyhoo, La Traviata tells the story of a beautiful young courtesan named Violetta. She leads life of decadence and pleasure, until she falls in love with a man named Alfredo, who convinces her to move to the country and live with him in peace. They do so, until his father arrives and speaks with her privately, urging Violetta to leave Alfredo so as not to disgrace Alfredo's sister. Violetta meanwhile, is dying and feels this is her one chance at love and happiness. Ultimately, she decides to sacrifice her happiness for Alfredo's sister and leaves him, saying she is returning to an old lover. He follows her to Paris and cruelly pays her back for their time together in front of the entire party. His father rebukes him for his treatment of her. Later, she is on her deathbed and has received a letter from Alfredo's father saying that he explained everything to his son and they are both on their way to see her and atone for their mistakes. Alfredo arrives and Violetta sings a duet with him, imagining their future happiness. She decides to thank God at church and relapses, falling to the floor. Alfredo's father arrives and embraces her as his daughter. Violetta suddenly feels renewed and her pain disappears. She stands and embraces everyone, singing about her miraculous recovery. She faces the audience, turns her head to the heavens, the lights dim and a golden spotlight shines on her as she collapses to the floor, dead.



Basically, it's the saddest thing I have seen in a super long time. I wept when Giorgio (the father) compelled her to leave her love and I really wept when she was dying after finally being reunited with her love.



Overall though, the opera examines the cruel way that a woman in her position was treated. How society was happy to use her for pleasure and then discard her as though she did not deserve to be treated with respect and compassion. She knowingly sacrificed her final chance at happiness to protect the chances of a girl who is not even a character in the opera. Alfredo's sister never makes an appearance, but for some reason, by virtue of not being a courtesan, she is presumed an innocent, while Violetta earns no such compassion. Well, not by most anyway. Alfredo's father seems to realize it only after Violetta so passionately sings of her sacrifice, and even then continues to ask it of her.



When he sees how his son treats her, I think the reality sets in for him. He sees that her sacrifice is greater than most will ever make, which in fact makes her more deserving of compassion and love than those on the upper edge of society, who feel she has no worth and is merely a whore.



I learned that Verdi wrote this based on a play by Alexander Dumas: "La dame aux camelias." It was about a real courtesan in Paris who had died within the same generation of him. This was apparently unheard of at the time to write about someone many considered beneath them. It's quite a moving stoy in that way, that he felt passionate enough about her worth that he wanted to immortalize her in one of the great "high society" art forms. And who wouldn't be moved by a story like that?