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[...] Since when did she daydreams that she inflicts upon herself died of the small right hand, these di mano destra mortiti?
She had been a child folded in on itself, however, happy in the rather nebulous sadness when she indulged, preferring to lose itself in the fabulous tales that his nurse confided to him or that he sang to mingle round, rhymes and games from other damsels of high-ranking families. It was a bit intimidating big tunes and boisterous wickedness of these girls, most of which were of better extraction it. But concurrently, it was sad seeing other girls who frolicked in dirty rags and singing rounds less mannered and more at the sight of farm girls younger than she sometimes toil in the fields like beasts sum. It was only in fairy tales and stories of his good nurse she found moments joy, transportation passionate, brilliant and laugh Musardise awake. In these stories, she saw life as it should have been: the venomous and morgueux found their punishment, pure hearts devoid of fortune saw them justly rewarded. In the world as it should have been, she liked nothing better than to linger, as in some valley where the sweet scents the air, light and shadows enchanting breed none of melancholy in the because she knew they were only from his imagination. But that melancholy was nothing compared to that of the world or intimidated her sad, the world she would have wanted him only from his imagination. And so it was, under the clouds, among the trees and garden flowers paternal bows low in contemplation of the starry sky, the delicious when dipped trance voice of his nurse, in endless echoes that it aroused in her in the day as well as in her dreams, she lived from birth to childhood. His magical
was soon limited by the clergy. A heavy magisterium imposed its law to the God who lived in the clouds and trees, flowers and the starry sky, in the melodious songs of his nurse and the endless echoes they were born in it, like in waking dreams.
One day, when his nurse came to tear as every lunchtime in the study room where clerics officiated teachers, the good woman, who knew more intimately than anyone, including his father and mother, identified in it a mixture of confusion and melancholy.
- Te misfortune would have happened, my sweet child?
long time she protested, swearing to high heaven that it was neither sad nor unhappy, and it was only when her nurse had wisely ceased to press questions at the end of a moment of silence she decided to relieve him of the weight compressed the heart.
- If God, being God, can enjoy forever to eternal happiness beyond anything we can dream, why must it be so harsh and surly?
- My little one, is a question that you must never put to the teaching brothers.
For young Gemma, it was somehow confirmed his worst fears. She bent her head, she was now so heavy that the heart, and whispered:
- I have sinned.
The good nurse gently shook her handcuffs order to meet the eyes.
- No, "she said with a gentle smile, you have sinned. It's just that God is different depending on who sees it. Themselves being harsh and crabbed, brothers and teachers see God. You who are by nature happy, you see Him as He really is. And if you never stop to see him is the face that He will always be for you.
"Your cheerfulness gladdens the heart of Jesus, who wants to see anyone suffer like he suffered. Formerly, it was a heart full of joy that he threw away the crown of thorns. These are severe and sour, even those who had surrounded him in the forehead, who enjoy believing that He still wears.
- If my question is not sin, why should I forbid myself to ask?
- Because men are tough and surly, they will be jealous of you they are birds that fly up to heaven and raise the real song of God.
The girl felt quite light again, and God was again in the sunny air, as well as the lightness that was back in it, and it seemed that it would run forever and, hand in good hand of his nurse, in the softness an eternal noon.
- Sing then!
- Since we can sing like a bird, sing a song to his glory.
- Oh yes! Oh yes! "The nightingale gay!
She wanted songs and fables last forever, and it was his good nurse, but could neither read nor write, who taught him all that really matters. Having learned from her never to ask the brothers abbots of other issues as they sought implicitly, being ready to respond with the learned sermons, it suffers by being the best students of their harsh lessons about God arithmetic, rhetoric and grammar, never failing to return them to drink in more attractive surroundings with its gente nurse, whose songs and stories in verse and prose, were outside of marvelous charm is the very person of the light of God, the desperate gaiety of a steady stream of robins, squirrels and nuts pilfered, with an eloquence that never dried up and a style of unparalleled purity.
education she received was designed to the approval of a future woman. Can not told him so in Latin than is strictly necessary. But Latin did arise during before it on the desk in the form of Liber Aesop the wonderful fables of Aesop. From that moment, the good nurse and Gemma became sisters in a enchanted world, because they could now tell stories each in turn. When the little Gemma fell on the fable of the fox, she refrained with difficulty a desire to run away to tell her good nurse she was in any way similar to the story that it had told its early childhood, as Aesop's fable and the tale of a woman did, it was something very wonderful and Aesop had bloomed in the garden of his dreams without writing or reading, and she was not surprised that his good nurse him illiterate has already sent much of the philosophy of Aristotle, as less arid, unknowingly to both.
This was the magic of Aesop who encouraged him to delve into the Latin more than is deemed necessary or appropriate in the case of a future woman, and soon she was able to recite poems from her nurse Horace, Virgil and Ovid.
Gemma enjoyed music courtesy then in vogue, so deftly that married rhyme and melody. One day, a troupe of minstrels from the Pays d'Oc occurred in Florence. She did not understand a word of what they sang, but she had never heard of such delicious harmonies. Nor had she ever seen ladies sing as well, with an art so consumed that the male members of the band showed their deference visible. Although she did not understand the lyrics, voices and sounds thin and sweet they tore their strings were eloquent enough, she realized that the area they occupied was doomed to a new kind of magic and yet view.
Men who practiced this kind of magic new, and she would learn later, bore the name of the troubadours, and the ladies who practiced with them than trobairitz. She would also learn later that the magic of new species actually dated back more than a century, and they gave him the name of fin'amor : love very pure and very sincere in extending a kingdom where there is greater purity, greater control and greater passion. This kingdom was one of the troubadours and trobairitz: what could be more beautiful between a noble lady and a gentleman of courtly manners
.[...]

Excerpt In the Hand of Dante to love from the heart, would never be able to recognize them under the guise that they had put light in order to exchange them, not by choice of vice or pleasure of the joke, but in order to test their constancy in love, the opera was certainly announced drama giocoso
, so one could laugh, but damn! where could they be hiding the great waters of the drama, the very ones who carry the maestro's Don Giovanni, opera another drama giocoso,
in the case of couples recomposed that finally we will have recomposed for anything since after having surrendered to the temptation please, damn pride that gives the flattering the king's place and lies taste of sincerity, and prove their infidelity, the two girls were reunited with their respective suitors for marriage, their futures and their lives Two young women, indeed even more than young women, sing, under the hot sun Neapolitan covering them, the love they have for their suitors, both absent from this charming scene, and for good reason They are then both climbing into the costumes of Albanian soldiers who have to help test the fidelity of their brides. This disguise, as the scheme which has required, is not their fault, it is that of Don Alfonso, an old salesman of ideas that it looks like it all the misogyny that wisdom which animates his language, since during their conversation, the trio who brought opera, he announced a share for granted while unmarried, he has no personal experience of women their total inconstancy in love, the passage is meant by the first
"Cosi fan tutte" - so are they all - the opera for women is one of da Ponte's libretto, and another surrounds this precept both thoughtfulness and insight on the world of men we almost forget the look he wears on the obscurantist world of women, which makes him a both repulsive and attractive. Besides, to completely ignore the warning of the old man to remain deaf to these truths not good to be experienced by oneself that repeat and repeat, an attitude that they would conduct their business as it is shameful to these challenges that pride saves in advance, both professional soldiers, disguised as soldiers from operetta to confound their beautiful, prove once again that if the number of accumulated years is not always wise, youth , meanwhile, works mostly in the night of his ardor.

Two young women sing therefore under the hot sun Neapolitan covering them, the love they have for their suitors. Fiordiligi and Dorabella, since these are the names of these two young women are sisters in life, sisters in the great chance of life, but to let love in him to write every bit of their soul as each fiber juveniles and their bodies still to settle on this cloud of cotton, for the moment the lift and raise them to forget the hot sun Neapolitan covering them all their days to come, one might almost say it's mostly in that they are sisters. Besides, the words that gush from their mouths, that love and fullness Mozart has rounded hearts are so twins, if these accomplices, that really does not sing a duet of ladies but the only song that would have been undertaken voice of love. And even if these two ladies have plastics that make it difficult to establish through the eyes of family relationship, or had patches of votes that would we would not even need to open our eyes to distinguish them, that not alter the case, because then we could hear them singing the song in all of those that can not be seen on the stage, ghosts Young women of the past, ghosts of young women of our time and spectra of young women to come, that love, in all their breath, is confused in a single, Mozart, thanks to the high spirit of his music, having successfully at least I think he, the challenge to expand the table formed by her two lovely heroines whom the book seems to have stopped in a theater large enough to contain them all, a second "Cosi fan tutte"

emphasized that the maestro a hug if sustained notes and if convinced of their ardor that seemed to come from an old dream that the young man, despite the harsh laws of life and slashes received, would not completely removed. Meanwhile Tamino surely, the very man who could only incite the flatting

very pungent "and they are all" left by da Ponte's libretto. This scene shows two young women who make their living every minute a delight and who hope not even coming every minute it offers them another opportunity to experience the same delight, their great faith in the love them with a glimpse of the world as if it was paradise, would soon be over for them a painful memory. Stupid bet with Ferrando and Guglielmo, since these are the names of their boyfriends, who, incidentally, soon receive the assistance of the maid Despina supported, a competition which it can never be sure whether she would commit to better or for worse as the carpe diem, this "fun as doing your engaged soldiers while on campaign " it preaches and the rest repeat the point that he would eventually convince Dorabella, fragrant with the feminist claim justified hesitation about him that further reinforces its status from domestic causes equally equally with his mistresses, who in turn endorses the costumes of doctor and lawyer, posts for laughs, certainly, but also positions occupied by people who are their own masters, because we know that Mozart, before emancipation Vienna, had lived or wanted it all himself, would go up because the garden of Eden and the tender innocence that went with it, Fiordiligi and Dorabella with understanding, through him and by the fact that both had fallen in love actually of pretending they did not choose, which moreover do so at their courtyard under the thinly disguised seemed to live exactly the same emotion, that love was not the king, whom she believed, that life, to be the sole principle that the perpetuation of the species - the famous "rabbits" da Ponte - made him a servant in the livery attractive enough to fool the girls. Love: the valet in the service of life, and who can live with it then knows to pass the magic's most comprehensive small joys resigned, they are the great waters of Cosi in this diminution, and it needs all the wisdom of Don Alfonso, the misogyny, ultimately, seems to have been more feigned than thought, because without that provoked the departure point of philosophy at the finish, to accept that life can, to accomplish his task, combine light Fiordiligi with a little less bright Guglielmo and Dorabella a little earth with a bit more heavenly Ferrando, just with the Pamina Papageno and Papagena with Tamino, which, after all, they announced the splendid color.

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In opera, staged by putting too much work the director on the front of the scene can sometimes spoil the pleasure offered by the work that it executes. I still have in mind a Traviata, and more a Madame Butterfly, which I happened to be constantly disturbed, distracted, rushed gestures imposed by the singers, with their costumes and scenery in which they were made to travel , not to suggest that by far the arias of Puccini or Verdi they interpreted, yet beloved tunes the drive. And sometimes, sometimes that are frequent fortunately, this same setting is so perfect in its way to surrender an opera it becomes a feast in itself. Among these settings which remain below know the booklet and music while being seen, being also the opera stage, too much discretion there would indeed be the enemy of good, and who know how to see without too much call for innovation, I would like to mention one that has benefited Mirella Freni and Luciano Pavarotti for their Bohemian committed in 1988 at the San Francisco Opera, a Bohemian I would say quite the way it could be my final version to DVD unless of course one day fail to my ears and my eyes, now perhaps more open to the opera in the cinema, the fault mainly attributable Mozart, because that devil angel, I discovered that opera could pass in less time than it takes to write an honest man laugh, almost trivial in these states of melancholy, nostalgic je ne sais quoi, that always cause real encounters with the beauty, Mimi, who is more than Mimi Mirella Freni, a possibility that I would call questionable, as the Italian diva the heroine of La Boheme what Callas Tosca and Rodolfo as convincing as could be Luciano Pavarotti in this role, Luciano Pavarotti, who also delights me too, even though the clear line of his voice, main reason for my addiction, have a modest singing ténorisée bathroom. On
between all those little discoveries that illuminate this remake Bohemia and while not repeating it, that is all its worth, I was tempted at one time, to elect one who serves so well Musetta's character, because the idea of blowing into Marcello's arms after she has finished with his famous Quando me'n vo ' the second act like a girl who would entire first love, first love which take the form of a prince charming always, and especially the long, romantic turn in these arms there, happy resident of the arms there, as would a blue flower stuck between the teeth of the gardener's dream, prompting us to glimpse the goodness of Musetta can last act, the courtesan a bit cynical to take a lot of fun on the desire of men is when she is discovered by unmasking effect a heart of gold to release the horses of love, beauty, truth, unique, that heart, too often deluded by vanity to please, holds. And like the rest of this flight back to Columbine in his time here made Harlequin romance glue so absolutely wonderfully well with the music that precedes it because we hear in the notes Quando me vo ' Musetta's heart beat of all the great heroines pucciniana is whether the maestro did not see an evil eye!
But there was much better in the first act to the tune of the little hand jelly Mimi. Since the middle of this saw, but certainly saw sawing saw nothing, the air being too widely disseminated, as can be Ravel's Bolero, Rodolfo, who sings this saw, will drop a book from his hands in a gesture that, from a strictly dance, seemed awfully inspired. Damned inspired, in fact, because there are both releasing this book a triumph, the very one that the hero of Bohemia claims to have spent all his time to writing "rhymes and hymns of love" , the book, which brings all these poems, to fall before him like any fall would expose that rich heritage, coming even as an echo, repeating the same words he said: "Through my dreams and chimeras, through my castles in Spain, I have the soul of a millionaire! "
renunciation and a bright, collection of poems still slippery hands of Rodolfo as if he had finished with him, the arrival of Mimi with whom he falls immediately in love - indeed, the first contact of her hand Jelly - prompting him to do so, foreshadowing, since it is the will and strength to reject this book, to turn from him to finally turn the page bavasseries certainly nice but not worth a true love, a love to live, like yours my dear, all his future approach, which will come to devote himself entirely to his love. In the third act, which tilts in the drama that Bohemia which hitherto can almost live like a Rossini opera, we will be able to realize that the courage of Rodolfo may include the greatest sacrifice that one can commit on behalf of love. Rodolfo, as the designer for this Bohème, certainly for me two examples.