Dvořák “Song to the Moon“, Rusalka | Měsíčku na nebi hlubokém | Lucia Popp

Rusalka’s “Měsíčku na nebi hlubokém“ (“Song to the Moon“, “Lied an den Mond“, “Le Chant à la Lune“, “Canción a la Luna“) | Lucia Popp (1939-1993) Antonín Leopold Dvořák - Rusalka , Opera, 1900. Lucia Popp, Telecast. “Měsíčku na nebi hlubokém Svetlo tvé daleko vidi, Po svete bloudis sirokém, Divas se v pribytky lidi. Mesicku, postuj chvili reckni mi, kde je muj mily Rekni mu, stribmy mesicku, me ze jej objima rame, aby si alespon chvilicku vzpomenul ve sneni na mne. Zasvet mu do daleka, rekni mu, rekni m kdo tu nan ceka! O mneli duse lidska sni, at’se tou vzpominkou vzbudi! Mesicku, nezhasni, nezhasni!“ Translation by Jules Brunelle, Royal Opera House, London: “O, Moon high up in the deep, deep sky, Your light sees far away regions, You travel round the wide, Wide world peering into human dwellings O, Moon, stand still for a moment, Tell me, ah, tell me where is my lover! Tell him, please, silvery moon in the sky, That I am hugging him firmly, That he should for at least a while Remember his dreams! Light up his far away place, Tell him, ah, tell him who is here waiting! If his human soul is dreaming about me, Let that remembrance wake him up! O, Moon, don’t disappear, disappear!“ RUSALKA is an opera about singing. Or rather, what happens when you cannot sing. Echoing the story of The Little Mermaid, Rusalka gives up her voice to be united with a Prince. But he is distinctly put out when his bride-to-be cannot say a word. Instead he accepts the hand of a Foreign Princess and Rusalka, obeying the witch Ježibaba’s curse, is doomed to live in the depths of the lake forever. The aria ’Song to the Moon’ comes right at the beginning of the story as Rusalka, still a nymph, sings with full-throated ease to the moon. There are nocturnal serenades throughout the repertoire and Dvořák starts his aria with the proverbial sweeping harp arpeggio, sounding just like a wooing guitarist tuning up. But rather than a trite tune under someone’s balcony, Rusalka’s aria is a luscious vocal display. The opening chords, passing to muted strings, hover in the air, seeking resolution. Two intertwining clarinets describe a still night and, when Rusalka begins her song, the music finally settles into a balmy major key. The rocking accompaniment has folk-like sincerity and Rusalka’s equal four-bar phrases give her song an uncomplicated sheen. The harmonic language, however, becomes more knotty just before Rusalka launches into the refrain - rather than being a simple hymn to the moon, Rusalka needs help. Moving slowly down in step, she asks where her beloved is. Her plea is underpinned by a subtle sequence of chords via E flat major to a crueller E flat minor. It’s a tiny harmonic indication of the tragedy in store. This aria offers a beautiful showcase for the heroine, but it likewise tells us of the tragedy at the heart of the opera. The Prince may swim in the lake, but he’s never heard Rusalka sing and, if she becomes a human, he never will. For Dvořák that created a considerable structural problem; operatic love stories demand duets. And it’s only in the final act, when the lovers are reunited in death, that he is able to create such a moment. But there are plenty of other glories in the score. The Prince is a hero in the Wagnerian mould and Dvořák leaves us in little musical doubt as to why Rusalka is attracted to him. Their wedding banquet in the second act is littered with vivid choruses and dances, though Rusalka sits silently apart from the festivities. She has given up everything to be there and Dvořák writes equally theatrical music for world of the forest. Rusalka’s father Vodník is a suitably melancholic soul, while the witch Ježibaba is the quintessence of evil magic. The cheeky water sprites are very much like the Rhine maidens in Wagner’s Ring. Although these characters provide great colour, the tragedy is ultimately Rusalka’s. And what is so fascinating about the opera is Dvořák’s ability to create both a charming fairytale and also to explore music as an overriding metaphor. Clearly without song our world would be considerably poorer and Rusalka’s aria offers a radiant warning. LUCIA POPPOVÁ | “Lucia Popp, a lyric soprano who sang with a silken clarity that made her a favorite in Mozart and Strauss roles [...] An elegant, flexible interpreter whose voice had a light, transparent texture, Miss Popp brought emotional depth and perspective to a wide variety of roles. [...] One of the most gifted, attractive and intelligent singers of her generation, Lucia Popp delighted audiences in Europe and the United States [...] Lucia Popp was born at Uhorska Ves in Slovakia. She studied medicine at Bratislava University for two terms, then turned to drama and finally to singing. [...] The cause [of death] was a brain tumor.“