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The Paris Opera House, one of the finest in the world, perhaps the most beautiful. lt has been at the heart of the city's life since 1875. We enter this temple of bel canto and dance... by way of this great staircase, where audiences parade during the intervals. The Paris Opéra is devoted to the lyric art... and is itself lyrical, flamboyant, lively... and at the same time romantic and baroque. Decreed during the Second Empire, it was inaugurated under the Republic... after being under construction for a very difficult fifteen years. Work began in 1860... and was entrusted to Charles Garnier, a 35-year-old Prix de Rome winner... who was preferred to the famous Viollet-le-Duc. The basic architecture of the building was completely laid down by Garnier... but when one walks around the interior and looks up... one sees all around the extraordinary ornamentation covering the walls. Everywhere there are friezes, panels and medallions. A very large number of artists contributed to the work. They applied their talents to the Master Architect's numerous and precise wishes. lt could be said that the end result... forms a catalogue of the decorative styles of the era. There are numerous motifs recalling music and opera... for this is where the most celebrated artists have always appeared: singers, dancers... and above all the ones they call Divas. lt was here in this dazzling palace, on 19th December, 1958... that this famous evening took place. Television, then in black-and-white... has preserved as good a record of it as possible using the techniques of the time. lt remains a document of rare value. That evening Callas was to sing in Paris for the first time! She had sung at La Scala, Milan, at the Metropolitan in New York... and had enjoyed success from London and Vienna to Mexico. She had caused a scandal in Rome a year earlier... by quitting the stage in the presence of the President of the ltalian Republic... but she had never before sung in Paris. lt was known that she had Greek roots, was ltalian by marriage... and had the vocal genius of a great Diva... as well as the rages and outbursts expected of one. Regular opera-goers knew of her but she was unknown to most people. And that very evening, she was about to be revealed to them. ln the course of the evening, Callas would have the chance... to show the breadth of her talents as a singer and actress in a range of works. To start with, the spotlight fell on Bellini. Callas was to sing Casta Diva from the opera Norma. First performed in 1833, it is one of the famous ltalian operas of the 19th century. Malibran and Patti had sung it and it was always one of Callas's greatest successes. The action takes place in Gaul at the time of the Roman occupation. Norma, daughter of the Chief Druid... has secretly had two children by the Roman proconsul. As a Gaul, she longs for her people to drive out the invaders... but as a woman in love she fears for her lover. The house is full. lt is a grand charity gala in aid of the Légion d'Honneur... and the President of the Republic, René Coty - this being 1958 - is present for this exceptional evening. And now, dressed in red, here is Callas. At this moment she's an unknown quantity to some 100 million viewers... sitting in front of their televisions... as a dozen countries relay the show via Eurovision. Are there those who dare to raise seditious voices, warlike voices, before the altar of God? Who dares to question the inspired words of prophetic Norma, seeking to hasten the fate of Rome? That will not come through human efforts. How long, then, must we remain oppressed by Rome? Have not the Roman eagles sullied enough our native shores, our ancestral temples? Brenno's sword can remain no longer idle. Let that sword, for once, be brandished! And broken, if one of you should draw it before the destined time. Not yet is the moment of our vengeance. The Roman spears are still stronger than the Druids' axes. What command has God given you? What prophecy? l have read the secret books of Heaven; on the page of deaths is written the name of proud Rome. One day she shall die; but not at your hands. She will die through her own vices, as if consumed by them. Await that hour, that fatal hour decreed by God. And meanwhile, peace! l cut the sacred mistletoe. Chaste goddess, who dost bathe in silver these ancient, hallowed trees, turn thy fair face upon us, unveiled and unclouded Temper thou the burning hearts, the excessive zeal of thy people. Enfold the earth in that sweet peace which, through thee, reigns in Heaven. The holy rites are ended. From the sacred wood let unbelievers go. When God, in his dark anger, shall demand the Romans' blood, then from the Druid temple my voice will thunder forth. Let it thunder, and not one of the cursed race shall escape the holy slaughter, and first to fall before our wrath shall be the Proconsul of Rome. Ah! l can punish him (but my heart can never do it). (Ah! bring back to me the beauty of our first love. Then, against the world itself l shall be your defence. Ah! Bring back to me the peace and warmth of love, and in that love l shall find again life, fatherland and Heaven itself!) But a wrathful god is hastening to condemn the power of Rome. (Ah, be once more as you were when first l gave my heart to you!) O day of vengeance, the God who condemned Rome will hasten your coming. The public already seems to be won over, and this is only the start of the evening. Tonight Callas is playing a part which is of great importance to her. Callas devotes the next part of this first half to Verdi. The chorus has left the stage. Now she will be able to give free rein to her dramatic powers. She will become Leonora in Il Trovatore. The plot is very complicated, with a hero loved by an aristocratic lady... babies who disappear, a woman who goes into a convent, a gipsy burnt alive, etc. The troubadour of the title is imprisoned in a dungeon... and Leonora, outside, is prepared to do anything to save her lover. But the main thing here is the emotion which the work unleashes. Albert Lance will be heard as the troubadour... and the chorus will also sing in the famous Miserere. Verdi had a great success with Il Trovatore. All this melodrama allowed him to write a score of great dramatic intensity... which takes its rightful place alongside Otello, Rigoletto, Aida, Don Carlos... and also La traviata in which Maria Callas has triumphed in a production by Visconti. Go... leave me, and don't fear for me. l can save him, perhaps. Fear for me?... Sure and ready is my protection. Shrouded in this dark night, l'm near you, and you don't know it! Moaning wind, you who blow here, mercifully take my sights to him. On the rosy wings of love go, oh mournful sigh; comfort the flagging spirits of the wretched prisoner. Like a breath of hope flutter in that room; waken in him the memories, the dreams, the dreams of love. But, pray, don't imprudently tell him the pangs, the pangs that rack my heart! Have mercy on a spirit approaching the departure which has no return. Have mercy on him, divine Goodness. Keep him from being the prey of hell. That sound, those prayers, so solemn and dire, fill the air with baleful terror! The distress that fills me almost deprives my lips of their breath, my heart of its beating! Ah! how slow Death is in its coming, to him who longs to die! Farewell, Leonora, farewell! Oh heaven! l feel faint! Over the horrid tower, Death seems with wings of darkness to be poised! Perhaps these doors will be opened for him, only when his corpse is already cold! I'm paying with my blood for the love I bore you! Don't forget, don't forget me, Leonora, farewell, Leonora, farewell! Forget you! Forget you! l feel faint... The house goes wild and Maria Callas savours its enthusiasm. ln a moment she will display another facet of her talent. She invites Albert Lance to join her... but out of courtesy he leaves all the applause to his illustrious partner. To end the first part, Callas has chosen a lighter character: Rosina from The Barber of Seville. Callas has a voice with a wide range... which can switch from the tessitura of a dramatic soprano to a lyric soprano... and in drawing up this programme her aim has been to prove this. Rossini wrote The Barber in 1816 when he was 24. The first performance was a failure, the second a triumph. lts famous arias such as the Barber's entrance, Figaro here, Figaro there... and the Slander Song, have gained international cultural status. And Rosina's great aria is a gift for a Diva. Written for a contralto, it quickly became a favourite with coloratura sopranos. The voice l heard just now has thrilled my very heart. My heart already is pierced and it was Lindoro who hurled the dart. Yes, Lindoro shall be mine, l've sworn it, l'll succeed. My guardian won't consent, but l will sharpen my wits, and at last he will relent, and l shall be content. l am docile, l am respectful, l am obedient, sweet and loving. l can be ruled, l can be guided. But if crossed in love, l can be a viper, and a hundred tricks l shall play before they have their way. This is no longer a success - it's a triumph. lt can be felt in the house... and also in the homes of millions of viewers throughout Europe. After the interval there will be a real staged performance - Act 2 of Tosca, with sets and costumes. Callas has sung it often - the first time was in Athens when she was just 19. Puccini's work is world-famous. The melodies and orchestration add to some very powerful dramatic situations. For Callas, it is certainly a chance to sing a magnificent role... but it's also a chance to show off her gifts as a superb tragic actress. Floria Tosca is a famous singer in the Rome of 1800. Scarpia, the Chief of Police, is infatuated with her. He is on the trail of an escaped prisoner... whom he believes is being harboured by Mario Cavaradossi - a painter and Tosca's lover - but he has no proof. Scarpia will stop at nothing. He threatens Mario with torture if he doesn't talk. As for Tosca, Scarpia is bent on trying every means... to make her betray her lover's secret. Tito Gobbi sings Scarpia and Albert Lance is Mario. Tosca is a good falcon! Surely by this time my hounds have fallen on their double prey! And tomorrow's dawn will see Angelotti on the scaffold and the fine Mario hanging from a noose. ls Tosca in the palace? A chamberlain has just gone to look for her. Open the window. lt is late. The Diva's still missing from the concert. And they strum gavottes. Wait for Tosca at the entrance: tell her l shall expect her after the concert. Or better... Give her this note. She will come for love of her Mario! And for love of Mario she will yield to my pleasure. Such is the profound misery of profound love... For myself the violent conquest has stronger relish than the soft surrender. l take no delight in sighs or vows exchanged at misty lunar dawn. l know not how to draw harmony from guitars, or horoscopes from flowers. Nor am l apt at dalliance, or cooing like the turtle dove. l crave, l pursue the craved thing, sate myself and cast it by, and seek new bait. God made diverse beauties as he made diverse wines, and of these God-like works l mean to taste my full. Spoletta's here. Show him in. ln good time, too. Well, my fine man, how did the hunt go? (Saint lgnatius help me!) We kept on the lady's trail following her to a lonely villa lost in the woods. She entered there and soon came out alone. At once with my dogs l vaulted over the garden wall and burst into the house. Well done, Spoletta! - l sniff... l scratch... l rummage. And Angelotti? - Nowhere to be found. Ah dog! Traitor! Snout of a snake. To the gallows! Jesus! The painter was there... - Cavaradossi? And he knows where the other is. He showed such taunting irony in every word and gesture that l arrested him. - Not bad. He is there. Bring in the Cavalier. Fetch Roberti and the judge. Such violence. Cavalier, please be seated. l want to know... - Be seated. l'll stand. As you wish. Are you aware that a prisoner... - Her voice! You are aware that a prisoner fled today from Sant'Angelo Castle? l did not know it. And yet it's reported that you sheltered him in Sant'Andrea. Gave him food and clothing... Lies. ...and took him to a suburban place of yours. l deny that. What proof have you? - A faithful servant... The facts! Who's my accuser? ln vain your spies ransacked my villa. Proof that he is hidden well. - Suspicions of a spy! He laughed at our questions... And l laugh still! Beware! This is a place for tears! Enough now. Answer me! Where is Angelotti? - l don't know. You deny you gave him food? - l deny it. And clothes? - l deny it. And refuge in your villa? And that he's hidden there? l deny it! l deny it! Come, Cavalier, you must reflect. This stubbornness of yours is not prudent. A prompt confession saves enormous pain. Take my advice and tell me: where is Angelotti? l don't know. Be careful. For the last time... Where is he? - l don't know. Oh, for a good whipping! - Here she is! Mario, you, here? Of what you saw there, say nothing. Or you will kill me! Mario Cavaradossi, the judge awaits your testimony. First, the usual formalities. And then... as l shall order. And now let's talk together like good friends. Come now, don't look so frightened. l am not afraid. What about the fan? That was foolish jealousy. So, the Attavanti was not at the villa? No, he was alone. Alone? Are you quite sure? Nothing escapes a jealous eye. Alone. Alone. lndeed! Yes. Alone! You protest too much! Perhaps you fear you may betray yourself. Sciarrone, what does the Cavalier have to say? He denies everything. Keep pressing him! You know it's quite useless. - We shall see, Madam. lt seems that one must lie to please you? No, but the truth might shorten an extremely painful hour for him. Painful? What do you mean? What are you doing in that room? lt is force that carries out the law. Oh, God! What's happening? What is happening? Your lover's bound hand and foot. A ring of hooked iron at his temples... so that they spurt blood at each denial. lt isn't true! Oh, leering devil! He groans! Oh, pity! Pity! lt is up to you to save him. - Good, good! But stop it! Stop it! Stop it, Sciarrone! Stop everything? Everything. And now the truth! - Let me see him. No! Mario! - Tosca! Are they still torturing you? No. Courage... and be silent. I despise pain! Come on Tosca, speak! l know nothing. Wasn't that enough for you? Roberti, start again. No! Stop! - Will you speak? No, no! Ah, monster! Murderer... you're killing him! lt's your silence that's killing him. Monster, do you laugh at this ghastly torment?. Tosca on the stage was never more tragic! Open the door so she can hear his groans better. I defy you. Harder! Harder! - I defy you all! Speak now... - What can l say? Come, speak... - Oh, l know nothing! Must l lie to you? Where's Angelotti? - No, no! Speak up, come, quickly. Where's he hiding? Oh, l can stand no more. Oh, horror! Stop this torture... it's more than l can bear l can stand no more... no more... Mario, will you let me speak? No. Listen, l can bear no more... Fool! What do you know and what can you say? Shut him up! What have l done to you in my life? lt is l you torture so. lt is my spirit... Yes, my spirit you are torturing. ln the well, in the garden... - Angelotti is there? Yes. Enough, Roberti! He has fainted! - Murderer! l want to see him. Bring in him here. Floria! - Beloved... lt is you? How you have suffered. Oh my soul! But this foul villain will pay for it! Did you speak? - No, beloved... Truly not?. - No. ln the well... in the garden. Get him, Spoletta. Ah, you have betrayed me! - Mario! Accursed woman! Excellency! Bad news! - What are you looking so worried about?. lt is news of defeat! - How? Where? What defeat?. At Marengo. - Blockhead! Bonaparte has won! - And Melas? No. Melas has fled! Victory! Victory! The avenging dawn now rises to make the wicked tremble! And liberty returns. The scourge of tyrants! Mario, be still! Have pity on me! You see me now rejoice in my own suffering... And now your blood runs cold, hangman, Scarpia! Mario! With you... Not you! Save him! l?... You rather! My poor supper was interrupted. So downhearted? Come, my fair lady. Sit down here. Shall we try to find together a way to save him? Well then, sit down, and we shall talk. And first, a sip of wine. lt comes from Spain. A sip to hearten you. How much? - How much? What is your price? Yes, they say that l am venal, but it is not for money that l will sell myself to beautiful women. No! l want other recompense if l am to betray my oath of office. l have waited for this hour. Already in the past l burned with passion for the Diva. But tonight l have beheld you in a new role l had not seen before. Those tears of yours were lava to my senses and that fierce hatred which your eyes shot at me only fanned the fire in my blood. Supple as a leopard you enwrapped your lover. ln that instant l vowed you would be mine! Mine! Yes. l will have you... Ah! Ah! l'll jump out first! - l hold your Mario in pawn! Oh, wretch... Oh, ghastly bargain... l do you no violence. Go. You are free. But your hope is vain: the Queen would merely grant pardon to a corpse! How you detest me! - Ah! God! Even so, even so l want you! Don't touch me, devil! l hate you, hate you! Fiend, base villain! What does it matter? Spasms of wrath or spasms of passion... Foul villain! - You are mine! Help! Help! - Do you hear? lt is the drum... that leads the way for the last march of the condemned. Time passes! Are you aware of what dark work is done down there? They raise a gallows. By your wish, your Mario has but one more hour to live. l lived for art, l lived for love. Never did l harm a living creature! Whatever misfortunes l encountered l sought with secret hand to succour... Ever in pure faith, my prayers rose in the holy chapels. Ever in pure faith, l brought flowers to the altars. ln this hour of pain, why, why, oh Lord, why dost Thou repay me thus? Jewels l brought for the Madonna's mantle, and songs for the stars in heaven that they shone forth with greater radiance. ln this hour of distress, why, why, oh Lord? Why dost Thou repay me thus? Look at me, oh, behold! With clasped hands l beseech you! And, vanquished, l implore the help of your word! Tosca you are too beautiful and too loving. l yield to you, and at a paltry price. You ask me for a life. l ask of you an instant. Go, go, you fill me with loathing! Who's there? Excellency, Angelotti killed himself when we arrived. Well, then, have him hanged dead from the gibbet. The other prisoner? The Cavalier Cavaradossi? Everything is ready, Excellency. God help me! Wait. Well? Listen... But l demand that he be freed this instant. We must dissemble. l cannot openly grant pardon to him. All must believe the Cavalier is dead. This trusted man of mine will see to it. - How can l be sure? By the orders l give him in your presence. Spoletta, shut the door. l have changed my mind. The prisoner shall be shot... Wait a moment... As we did with Count Palmieri. An execution... - A sham one! As we did with Palmieri! You understand? l understand. - Go. l want to explain to him myself. As you wish. You will let her pass... And remember, at four o'clock. Yes. Like Palmieri. l have kept my promise. - Not yet. l want a safe conduct so that he and l can flee the State together. You want to leave? Yes, for ever. Your wish shall be granted. And which road do you prefer? - The shortest! Civitavecchia? - Yes. Tosca, now you are mine at last! Accursed one! This is the kiss of Tosca! Help! l am dying! Help! l die! ls your blood choking you? And killed by a woman! Did you torment me enough? Can you still hear me? Speak! Look at me! l am Tosca! Oh, Scarpia! Help! ls your blood choking you? Die accursed! Die! Die! Die! He is dead! And now l pardon him! All Rome trembled before him! lt was a long time since the Opéra had seen such enthusiasm. They were taken by storm, and Callas was crowned queen. Afterwards she was to thank Paris for one of the finest moments of her career. What an unforgettable evening! Three hours earlier, Callas had been just a diva; at midnight she became a star... for millions of viewers. lt was a triumph for Callas and also for television... because that emotion of years ago can still be felt today... since that voice and that face are once again there before us. Callas is present among us. For ever. |
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