Classical Crush: Your Valentine's Edition
Love triangles, tragic romance, and a piece that made Rachmaninoff cry
When I launched this newsletter, I didn't expect my first issue to be Valentine's-themed. But you know what, It's actually perfect - a little corny, maybe, but a great place to start. After all, I can’t really think of an opera without love at the centre. There's this old joke joke in the opera world that's surprisingly accurate: the tenor is always in love with the soprano. The soprano loves the baritone. The baritone, meanwhile, spends the entire opera being jealous of the tenor. And, of course, it all ends in tragedy. It's opera's eternal love triangle!
Before I dive into some romantic recommendations, let's quickly breakdown voice types for anyone new to this (feel free to skip if you’re familiar). Voices are categorised by their natural range - basically, how high or low someone can comfortably sing. I’ll show you in another newsletter all the different voice types and their sub-categories but generally we’re talking:
Male Voices
Countertenor: The highest male voice, reaching into female ranges through falsetto
Tenor: The high male voice (think Pavarotti)
Baritone: The middle range
Bass: The deep, low voice
Female Voices
Soprano: The highest female voice
Mezzo-soprano: The middle range (literally means "half" soprano)
Alto: The lower female voice
Now, back for Valentine's, here’s my offering:
"Pur ti miro" from Monteverdi's L'incoronazione di Poppea (1643)
This duet from Italian composer Claudio Monteverdi comes right at the end but it's a perfect way to start this Valentine's journey.
The plot of this opera is quite complicated - I can't say I know exactly what's happening all the time but essentially: The ambitious Poppea manipulates Emperor Nero into making her his empress (he's already married to Ottavia, btw). Through betrayal and murder, they actually succeed. The bad guys win and they declare their love for each other in this duet (though history tells us it didn't end well – Nero eventually ordered pregnant Poppea's death.)
Here's what they're singing:
Original Italian:
Pur ti miro, pur ti stringo, pur ti godo, pur t'annodo
piu non peno, piu non moro, o mia vita, o mio tesoro.
Io son tua, tuo son io. Speme mia, dillo di,
l'idol mio, tu sei pur. Si mio ben, si mio cor, mia vita, si.
In English:
I gaze at you, I hold you close, I delight in you, I'm bound to you.
No more sorrow, no more pain, Oh my love, my treasure.
I am yours, and you are mine. My hope, say it aloud,
My idol, you are truly mine. Yes, my love, yes, my heart—my life, yes.
Listening tips:
Monteverdi uses a few musical ‘tricks’ here but one is dissonance - when notes clash in a way that creates intentional tension in the listener, before resolving into harmony. As the listener you experience this constant tension and release sensation. You can hear it very clearly at 1:04 for example.
At 0:37, listen to how beautifully Monteverdi composed "pur t'annodo" (I'm bound to you) - the singer's line intertwines around the other, like a musical embrace, or choke hold, depending how you see it.
Nero is sung here by French countertenor superstar Philippe Jaroussky, and if you've never heard a countertenor before, you might think this is sung by a female.
Anyway, there's so much more to say about this opera but that's probably enough for now. If you do want to listen to more of this opera (and I have to admit, it's pretty long), I'd recommend La Venexiana's modern take or the version by the English Baroque Soloists with John Eliot Gardiner conducting.
Méditation from Thaïs by Jules Massenet (1894)
Whenever I listen to instrumental masterclasses, you'll often hear teachers talking about making the instrument "sing" or sound like a voice. It makes perfect sense - the human voice is perhaps the most unique instrument, and we respond to it instinctively. Unlike singers, string instruments, or piano don’t need to ‘breathe’. A player can go for a long time without a pause but it’s acutally unsettling to listen to, there’s no break. This instruction helps create natural phrasing in instrumental music and The Méditation is a perfect example - the violin's melody is so vocal, you can almost imagine a soprano singing it.
I love this interpretation by South Korean violinist Bomsori Kim, a star in her own right. This piece could easily become overly sentimental, but she lets the music speak for itself while maintaining that crucial singing quality.
A little confession: it took me a few listens to really fall in love with this piece. If it doesn't grab you right away, give it another try or two.
If you enjoyed this one, the whole opera is worth exploring (though I'll admit, I often skip parts). The story? It's about Athanaël, a fanatical monk who tries to convert Thaïs, a courtesan (opera-speak for a sex worker), to a religious life. The twist? He realizes too late that he's fallen in love with her. Thaïs finds spiritual peace and dies (why is it always the soprano who dies? More on that in a future newsletter), while Athanaël is left tormented by his desire and despair. A moral Freaky Friday.
The final duet is particularly special. In the video, and I know, the video quality is terrible, you'll hear the incredible Renée Fleming as Thaïs and Thomas Hampson as Athanaël in a production from the Metropolitan Opera in NYC. Listen for how the Méditation theme returns with their voices soaring above it. And those high D's Fleming hits (that's really high, trust me) are pretty much perfection.
Fun facts:
The Met is largest indoor opera house in the world, with nearly 4,000 seats, and they're singing WITHOUT microphones!
This 2008 production made quite a splash, partly because the costumes were designed by Christian Lacroix.
Skip to 5:16 for the beginning of the duet:
Serenade to Music by Ralph Vaughan Williams (1938)
So a different kind of love here - not a love story between people, but rather a love letter to music itself. English composer Vaughan Williams took his text from Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, where characters chat about music's power. The result? Fifteen minutes of pure musical bliss with harmonies so lush that they reportedly moved Russian composer Rachmaninoff to tears when he heard its premiere.
The piece has an unusual setup - it was written for 16 soloists who also sing together as a choir. Each singer gets brief solo moments to shine. Since gathering 16 soloists can be quite a challenge (not to mention expensive!), you'll find various arrangements: for choir and four soloists, for choir and orchestra alone, and even a purely orchestral version.
I have to say, this is one of the most beautiful choral works I know. There's something magical about it - and I mean Harry Potter level magical. It's so quintessentially English in the best possible way and the recording I'm sharing is a classic, featuring an impressive lineup of 16 British soloists - a real luxury to have so many legendary voices in one room.
That’s it for now, I hope you liked it and if you have any questions, comments, requests, feel free to reach out.
Have a good weekend!
I’m going to start a mr figaro playlist!
Just figuring out what my voice is whilst I play some of these 👌