Tea at Trianon: The Complexity and Humanity of Floria Tosca

John Wilson Croker on Marie-Antoinette

"We have followed the history of Marie Antoinette with the greatest diligence and scrupulosity. We have lived in those times. We have talked with some of her friends and some of her enemies; we have read, certainly not all, but hundreds of the libels written against her; and we have, in short, examined her life with– if we may be allowed to say so of ourselves– something of the accuracy of contemporaries, the diligence of inquirers, and the impartiality of historians, all combined; and we feel it our duty to declare, in as a solemn a manner as literature admits of, our well-matured opinion that every reproach against the morals of the queen was a gross calumny– that she was, as we have said, one of the purest of human beings."

~from History of the Guillotine by John Wilson Croker, 1844

Edmund Burke on Marie-Antoinette

"It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely there never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in, glittering like a morning star full of life and splendor and joy. Oh, what a revolution....Little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her, in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers! I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look which threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded...."

~Edmund Burke, October 1790

Sunday, August 29, 2021

The Complexity and Humanity of Floria Tosca

From In the Wings:

Flung into a world of revolutionary conviction and maddening corruption, horrifying violence and passionate devotion, the title character of Tosca finds herself ensnared in a tightening web of tragic events. The opera, taut and melodramatic, unfolds over the course of a single day in Rome, in June of 1800. Throughout, the celebrated diva Floria Tosca is at the center of the action. She flirts with her beloved, the painter Mario Cavaradossi, prays, and sings; then, after crisis strikes, she resists the advances of the villainous Scarpia, kills him, escapes, rushes to save Mario, fails to do so, and, finally, seizes her own destiny from the parapets of the Castel Sant’Angelo. As she endures these trials, Tosca emerges as a deeply complex character. Her complexity flows from many sources: the artistic vision of the opera’s creators, the perspectives of her fellow characters, and the interpretive choices of the singer performing the role.
Tosca has rich historical roots. Puccini based his work on La Tosca, an 1887 play by the prolific French dramatist Victorien Sardou. La Tosca, like many of his 70-plus plays, features a sensational plot, meticulous attention to historical detail, and overtly political themes. Puccini and Sardou worked together on the adaptation, meeting several times in Paris to discuss the project. The collaborative process was largely harmonious, but on one vital point, Sardou’s wishes overrode Puccini’s: while Puccini initially envisioned a drawn-out final scene, Sardou insisted upon the abrupt, explosive conclusion that now stands as a hallmark of the opera. Puccini also embraced Sardou’s commitment to historical accuracy as he composed, even climbing to the ramparts of the Castel Sant’Angelo at sunrise so that he could listen to the church bells resounding across the landscape.
Sardou created the part of Tosca with a particular performer in mind, the illustrious French actress Sarah Bernhardt. Among the most famous women of her day, Bernhardt was an internationally-known celebrity, acclaimed for her emotionally charged acting as well as her gossip-column-worthy offstage life. Her fans flocked to her performances not just to see her play a role, but also simply to witness the fabulous spectacle of Bernhardt herself. (Puccini saw her perform the role of Tosca twice, in 1890 and 1895.)

In Sardou’s play, the character of Tosca is equipped with a substantial backstory. Born to modest circumstances as a goatherd, she spent her teenage years in a convent, where her extraordinary voice was discovered, catalyzing her rise to fame. In contrast, Puccini’s Tosca is more of an unknown quantity. She appears onstage in Act I of the opera in the prime of her life, a gloriously successful singer and a woman in love. Audiences learn nothing of her past, of what she was like before this fateful day. What they do learn is that that she does not fit easily into any single archetype, but rather seems to evoke several. At various moments throughout the opera, she embodies the innocent victim and the jealous lover and the transcendent artist and the angry murderess and the pious believer—all of which converge to make her a multifaceted, potentially ambiguous character. (Read more.)