Ripetete

This entry is part 14 of 17 in the series Guiding Hands

I was required to study two languages, non-credit, as “research tools.” With my interest in vocal music, Italian and German became natural choices. I signed up for undergraduate beginning Italian course. Dr. Giovanna Jackson was our teacher.

On the first day of class, she walked in; greeted us in Italian and gestured for us to return the greetings. She avoided using English as much as possible. Whenever we were leaning new words or phrases, she would demonstrate and say, “Ripetete.

Other than teaching Italian, Dr. Jackson was also the Director of International Student Affairs at Kent State. She taught a few other music students before me. So, she already knew me and my work prior to having me in her class. I was the odd duck in that class—Asian and a decade older than the other students. Having a supportive teacher was comforting, to say the least.

After one semester of group instructions, I began independent study with Dr. Jackson. We worked on translations of operas: Barber of Seville and La traviata. I remember her explaining the meaning of the word traviata to me. The word is the past-participle of “traviare,” in feminine form. It comes from tra, meaning “in between,” “across,” “beyond,” and via, “road,” “way” and “path.” Hence, traviare means “to stray from the path.” La traviata is a woman who’s lost her way. She would read the verses with me, showing me the flow of the sound—the built-in rhythm of the Italian language in sync with word stresses.

She was extremely encouraging and helpful in my planning to study in Perugia. Later, she joined my dissertation committee. Before my final defense, Dr. Shindle struck up a conversation with her, realizing that she was the fellow student at Indiana University who helped him with Italian texts in his dissertation. Life goes in circles.

Dr. Jackson came to the States at an early age. Because of her experiences adjusting to new environment and cultures, she understood the challenges of international students. She assisted students in immigration matters and their needs while studying at Kent. She held cross-cultural events involving local community. For some reasons, I always ran into unexpected immigration issues. She was with me every step of the way.

In her heart, Dr. Jackson was through-and-through Italian. She cared for her two boys as well as her students like an Italian mamma. She cooked delicious Italian dishes. She never stopped educating people about Italian language, films and music. From her, I saw the possibility of establishing a life in the States while maintaining my cultural identity. Sadly, she passed away twelve years ago. I treasured the time that we spent together.

Life and death— “Vissi d’arte”

I often point out grammatical errors that I heard on radio and/or TV shows to friends. One of them always responds: “Only people that had to study the language would notice these things.” It is very true that, being a non-native speaker, I try my best to use the language properly.

There is no such a thing as “verb tenses” in Chinese language. (On the other hand, there are many words and phrases that can reflect the timing of events and actions.) When I first started studying English, it annoyed me a great deal to have to learn the conjugation of strong verbs and to understand tenses. Italian is a language twice remote from my linguistic roots and, like any Romance language, it has a complicated system of verb tenses.

In Act II of Puccini’s Tosca, Scarpia, chief of the secret police, pressures the protagonist to give into his sexual advances, in exchange for the life and freedom of Cavaradossi, her lover and a supporter of revolutionary movement. At the moment of extremity, Tosca sings “Vissi d’arte.”[1]

Vissi d’arte; vissi d’amore
I used to live for arts; I used to live for love.

Non feci mai
male all’anima viva
I never did evil thing to any living soul.

Con man furtiva,
Quante miserie conobbi aiutai
With furtive hand,
I helped many people in misery as I knew.

Sempre con fè sincera
Always with sincere faith,

la mia preghiera
ai santi tabernacoli salì.
rose my prayer to the holy tabernacles.

Sempre con fè sincera
Always with sincere faith,

diedi fiori agl’altar.
I gave flowers to the altars.

Nell’ora del dolore
In the hour of sorrow

perchè, perchè, Signore,
perchè me ne rimuneri così?
Why, o why, Lord,
Why do you remunerate me so?

Diedi gioielli
della Madonna al manto,
I gave jewelries for the mantle of Madonna,

e diedi il canto
agli astri, al ciel,
che ne ridean più belli.
I also sent my singing to the stars, to the sky,
So, because with it, they would shine more beautifully.

Nell’ora del dolor
In the hour of sorrow,

perchè, perchè, Signor,
Ah, perchè me ne rimuneri così?
Why, why, Lord,
Ah, why do you remunerate me so?

When I first studied the aria, I noticed that almost all the verbs were in passato remoto (remote past).[2] It is a tense often associated with historical writing or storytelling, describing things that happened in the past and will not recur. The very first word “vissi” is first person/singular/passato remoto of “vivere” (to live). It is rarely used as it actually says, “Once upon a time, I lived.”

Tosca could have said, heroically, “Vivo d’arte; vivo d’amore” (“I live for art; I live for love”). She could even have said, “Sono vissuta. . .”[3] (“I have lived. . .”), giving a sense of how life had been and how it might continue. Clearly, she was distancing herself from the past, saying “I used to live for art; I used to live for love. . .”. Unfortunately, the desperation of cutting off one’s present realities from the past does not come through in English translation. Most singers are either ignorant of the complexity or simply setting it aside.

In all these years, I searched for the reason that the librettists[4] chose such strong tense. I addressed the questions to every soprano that passed through my door. I asked many reputable professionals. No answers.

Early last week, while working with a wonderful playwright/actress/singer on Tosca, I brought up the subject again. Her reaction was immediately different than most people. She asked a key question: “Did Tosca sing the aria before or after she caved in to Scarpia’s demands?” AFTER. Suddenly, it was clear to both of us that the moment of her surrender was a point of departure: A life of art, love, devotion and sincerity was no more. Tosca was eulogizing her own life and begging for a reason from the Lord.

I am a firm believer of the dramatic power of words, especially when combined with music. Since every language has its characteristics, in order to release such power, the interpreters must truly appreciate the choices of words as well as the construct of the text. Linguistic study could be a challenging task. Nonetheless, it is paramount for serious musicians.


[1]Vissi d’arte: Maria Callas
[2]The verb “rimuneri” (you remunerate) is in present tense.
[3]In conjugation of the verb “vivere,” auxiliaries “avere” (to have) and “essere” (to be) are both used. When associate with location, i.e. “Ho vissuto in Italia per un anno” (I have lived in Italy for a year), the auxiliary “avere” is used. When indicating being alive, “essere” should be used.
[4] Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica collaborated on the libretto of Tosca. They also cowrote the libretti of La Bohème.