Teatro Alla
Scala
Milan, Italia
Pier Luigi Pizzi remember her with these words: “LEYLA GENCER? A myth. An immense artist. Mine is a testimony of absolute admiration for an extraordinary career built entirely on commitment, dedication, rigor, self-criticism and an infinite gratitude for many years of a very special friendship. And her style, elegance, class, intelligence, culture, irony, humour, frankness, generosity. A great Woman.”
Tra le grandi dive del belcanto che hanno legato il loro nome al Teatro alla Scala Leyla Gencer, il soprano turco ha occupato un ruolo del tutto speciale per personalità vocale, temperamento scenico, vastità del repertorio e durata di un rapporto che dopo il ritiro dalle scene è proseguito con l’impegno didattico con i giovani dell’Accademia Teatro alla Scala. Il Teatro alla Scala la ricorda con una mostra di immagini nel Ridotto dei Palchi “Arturo Toscanini”, a cura di Pier Luigi Pizzi con Franca Cella, che ripercorre alcune delle sue interpretazioni scaligere.
Pier Luigi Pizzi ricorda così il grande soprano: “LEYLA GENCER? Un Mito. Un’immensa Artista. La mia è una testimonianza di ammirazione assoluta per una straordinaria carriera costruita interamente sull’impegno, la dedizione, il rigore, l’autocritica, e di gratitudine infinita per tanti anni di un’amicizia molto speciale. Vogliamo parlare del suo stile, l’eleganza, la classe, l’intelligenza, la cultura, l’ironia, l’umorismo, la franchezza, la generosità? Una grande Donna”
Dettagli
Titolo: Mostra Leyla Gencer, a cura di Pier Luigi Pizzi e Franca Cella
13 maggio – 13 settembre 2018
Below photos © BRESCIA-AMISANO, Milano
PIER LUIGI PIZZI & FRANCA CELLA
She débuted in Naples (1953-54) and was immediately adored for the new emotion of her Madama Butterfly and her daring in Eugenio Onegin: the Teatro San Carlo, faithful to her to the end, acknowledged her talent for rediscovery and was to offer her great opportunities.
Her Traviata, with its agility, with dramatic nature, ready and yet light, shone brightly over the Theatres of Italy and beyond. And with the same naturalness, she reflected the sense of contemporary disorientation (Il console, Ankara, 1954) and the experimental televised studio version of an opera, the real tears streaming down her cheeks were captures in a close-up shot.
“Garland of violets”, in her American début (Francesca da Rimini, San Francisco 1956) she appeared like a vision of harmonious freshness, guided by what she knew of Dante and of Gabriele D’Annazio, compared by the press to Eleanora Duse, and extraordinary in causing the sense of foreboding to vibrate on the image. She arrived at La Scala, the first Turk in history to sing there, where she was to perform in eighteen roles, a mere fraction of her repertoire that included more than seventy titles. She was Madame Lidoine, the New Prioress in Françis Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmelites (26 January 1957). Her farewell to the Sisters, condemned like herself to the guillotine, received its first applause for her first note sung at La Scala. A month later, Victor de Sabata chose her to sing the piece for soprano solo and choir from the final part of Verdi’s Requiem on the occasion of Toscanini’s funeral in Milan’s Cathedral.
At La Scala, her parts from Verdi’s operas were forceful and restless. In Don Carlo, they hung from visions that were caressed, impalpable, looking down into the abyss of an aria that measures eternity and startling memory; or, in La forza del destino, they reached out towards a haven of peace, possessively drawn by their own human momentum on the words and gestures. They were female creature open to the hopes of the Risorgimento in La Battaglia di Legnano, sworn to vengeance and insurrection in I vespri siciliani, rebellions to hatred in Jerusalem, and mournful when their hearts were broken.
It was her energy that inflamed the concertati, the spark that lit and warmed the enveloping tension, that made the pathos vibrate in those grand moments of pleading, praying, upraising, hymning, where the mechanisms of opera reach and exalt their own truth. There was a special understanding, a soul pact that bound Leyla and Chorus.
Her bond with Donizetti was congenial, in Lucia di Lammermoor (San Francisco, 1958), with weightless gestures and body, the intensity gave lyrical force to a spectacularly clear voice: Anna Bolena, recorded by Rai (1958), and the triumphant performances in Poliuto at La Scala (1960). Like a worrier, she seized the lead in the Donizetti renaissance with the rediscovery of Roberto Devereux (Naples, 1964). Then come Lucrezia Borgia (Naples, 1964), Maria Stuarda (Florence, 1967), Belisario (Venice, 1969), Caterina Cornaro (Naples, 1972), Les Martyrs (Bergamo, 1975), five world premieres that made Leyla Gencer the pioneer and specialist in Donizetti. Her portrayals of Donizetti’s queens – Anna Bolena (Glyndebourne, 1965) and Elisabetta in Roberto Devereux and Maria Stuarda – were measured against history and were majestic, unpredictable, personally intimate, as they looked out over the shaken spaces of the soul into which Leyla dared to press to the utmost: true role models.
More
queens followed Rossini’s Elisabetta, Regina d’Inghilterra (1971);
Verdi’s Lady Macbeth ... almost an identification in roles that she was to play
from 1960s to the 1980s in so many theatres, conducted by Gui, Scherchen,
Gavazzeni, Muti.
In 1965, she took the title role in Norma at La Scala, ten years after Callas, an unnerving challenge, but one that she won. She played Elettra in Mozart’s classical opera, Idomeneo, a mixture of reductive melodies and furies, the culmination of a career with Mozart, which began with Cosi fan tutte and went on with Le nozze di Figaro and Don Giovanni. The moving recitation of Alceste (1966) represented the height of Gencer’s innate deference for words, pronounced as if they were precious objects, embossed, reactive, sacred. In La Vestale, she portrayed the restlessness and anguish of Guila, while in L’Incoronazione di Poppea (1967), she took the dark tones and the intensity of the empress Ottavia, who, exiled, regally bids Rome farewell.
She was also capable of sudden comedy, both in performances and in life: for example, Albert Herring (1979-80), or Prova d’un opera seria (Venice, 1983) were an inevitable glance at herself in the mirror, playing with comedy and with the nostalgia for the tragic.
Leyla is here, in the voices and gestures of her characters, with her absolute passion “I love my operas with an excitement that perhaps no man has given me. Then afterwards, each time, curiosity pushes me on to something else. I am Don Giovanni of music”. And then immediately, that flash of light-hearted irony: “In quali eccessi, a Numi….”
HER LAST MESSAGE
“You
must believe in what you are doing. And love not just music, but everything
that represents our art. Ours is a mission and we have to grow, not retreat, as
is the tendency today. I hope not. My hope lives in you. I believe that we will
always have not only our Scala, but above all, music. Which must be our
cornerstone, our reason for living. You must live for this, be creative. You
mustn’t love only music, but people above all else. I greatly loved my public.
When I entered the stage, I believed …. I was not a deity, but almost. I found
my fulfilment, any great love that embraced all the public … I felt joy in
conquering them, in communicating what I felt within myself … Not just the
public, but the whole world. I want you all to feel that, too.”
“You must also love for peace, that peace in which, for the moment, we have no hope, but I hope we shall have it. I am certain that we shall have the peace we so long for, peace in our souls, peace for all our ambitions, after all our discard.”
“We
must be sure of carrying out a mission, not only, but of being in love with it.
My friend Pizzi, with whom we work for many years, knows how much love, how
much dedication, and particularly how much passion we put into performances.
One must have passion in one’s life; without passion, life … is nothing”.
With these words, on
20th February 2008, in this room. Leyla Gencer left her final message for the
young artists of her Academy, for the public that had gathered around her. The
Accademia di Perfezionamento vocale of La Scala, which she had re-founded and
directed from 1977 to 2008, represented the natural glory of a life given to
music. She generously passed on her knowledge, her feeling … She left her mark
and her rare happiness in duty on her collaborators. Together with the young
artists which were privileged to benefit from her teaching, we acknowledged her
rousing passion, her moving strength, her extraordinary authority as an artist.
The fragrance, almost, of a goddess.
Below photos © AHMET ETEM ERENLİ, İstanbul
ACCADEMIA ALLA SCALA WEBSITE
LEYLA GENCER
Dal 13 maggio al 16 settembre 2018
Mostra a cura di Pier Luigi Pizzi e Franca Cella
TEATRO ALLA SCALA WEBSITE
Dans l'intimité de Leyla Gencer