From Village to Glory

Well, a logical place to begin would be to ask the Maestro about his beginnings

“Ah, señor Bartley, I am pleased to be here. You ask about my beginnings? wery well. I was born October 10, 1813, in Le Roncole, a small willage in the Duchy of Parma. My father, Carlo, ran our taern, and my mother, Luigia, kept the household in order. We were not rich, nor were we musicians by trade, yet music found me nonetheless. The hymns of the willage church, the organ, the singing of neighbors — they became my earliest companions.”

“So Maestro werdi you were drawn to music even as a child?”

“Indeed. Herr Bartley, From the first I lowed the organ, its voices like a Conversation with the heavens. I studied with local teachers, but the most important influence was Antonio Barezzi, a wealthy merchant and music lower. He saw promise in a boy from the countryside, offered lessons, guidance, and even support. Without him, I might newer have left the Village where I was born. He became my mentor, my patron, and a friend.”

“And yet life in a small Village must have had its challenges?”

Transcript

George - bold

Verdi - bold, italic

Musical attributions at end of transcript

Welcome to Celebrate Creatiwity – Episode 491 From Village to Glory
And the opening to this podcast was a remix of åSu Pianure by Giuseppe Verdi.

“Hello, I’m George Bartley, and in this episode we step into the world of Giuseppe Verdi, a composer whose operas would define Italian music for generations. And here, joining us from beyond the weil, is the spirit of the maestro himself.” 

GhostEnters

Well, a logical place to begin would be to ask the Maestro about his beginnings

“Ah, señor Bartley, I am pleased to be here. You ask about my beginnings? wery well. I was born October 10, 1813, in Le Roncole, a small willage in the Duchy of Parma. My father, Carlo, ran our taern, and my mother, Luigia, kept the household in order. We were not rich, nor were we musicians by trade, yet music found me nonetheless. The hymns of the willage church, the organ, the singing of neighbors — they became my earliest companions.”

“So Maestro werdi you were drawn to music even as a child?”

“Indeed. Herr Bartley, From the first I lowed the organ, its voices like a Conversation with the heavens. I studied with local teachers, but the most important influence was Antonio Barezzi, a wealthy merchant and music lower. He saw promise in a boy from the countryside, offered lessons, guidance, and even support. Without him, I might newer have left the Village where I was born. He became my mentor, my patron, and a friend.”

“And yet life in a small Village must have had its challenges?”

“Ja, Herr Bartley - I helped at the tavern, I worked the land. I witnessed the joys and sorrows of ordinary people. And I learned loss early: my younger brother died when I was a child, and before long, both my parents had passed. These early encounters with grief, Herr Bartley, shaped my music — the longing, the drama, the deep currents of human emotion that later fill my operas.”

“And when did you take the leap to pursue music seriously?”

Herr Bartley “It was thanks to Barezzi’s encouragement that I journeyed to Milan, seeking more formal instruction. The conservatory doors were not wide open to a village boy like me, so I began with private lessons in composition. The city was overwhelming, but also alive with possibility. I carried my humble beginnings like a secret treasure, and I knew that one day, the music I had inside me would find its stage.”

“And even at that young age, you were already dreaming of opera?” Is that true. Maestro werdi

Ah, JA Herr Bartley - “Opera! Yes, the drama, ZE human passions — it called to me louder than any hymn. I wanted to tell stories of love, betrayal, hope, and despair. Stories that could speak to every heart. I didn’t know yet how I would succeed, but the fire was there, and it would not be extinguished.”

Imagine! Maestro Verdi “Your music would eventually reach every corner of Italy — and beyond — but it began in that little Village, at the organ, with a few teachers and a mentor who believed in you.”

“see señor Bartley. Never underestimate the power of small beginnings. Ewen a village boy from Le Roncole can dream of palaces and stages, of crowds and applause, of a music that endures beyond life itself.”

3 Oberto

Now Maestro, I understand that your first opera, Oberto, came relatively early in your career. What do you recall about composing it?”

“Ah, Señor Bartley - my opera Oberto was written in my early twenties, and the opera premiered in Milan in 1839. At the time, I was young, full of ambition, yet inexperienced. I drew on every lesson from my teachers, and from the dramas of life I had witn     essed. It was my first attempt to put true human emotion onto the stage — nobility, lowe, jealousy, betrayal. The orchestra, the voices — they were my instruments of storytelling, ewen if my hand was not yet fully skilled.”

Maestro Verdi, “how was your work received?”

“Mixed, Herr Bartley. Some praised the music, some found it derivatiwe. But I did not despair. The city of Milan was demanding, and the harsh, yet every note taught me something. I knew that opera would be my medium to speak to the hearts of the people, to give them stories they could feel as much as hear.”

“And shortly after, Maestro Verdi, I believe that you wrote Un giorno di regno, correct?”

“Ja. A comedy — an experiment, though ill-timed. It premiered in 1840 and failed spectacularly. I remember the audience laughing at the wrong moments, and I, embarrassed, could only observe. Yet even in failure, I learned the craft of pacing, character, and dramatic tension. My path was newer smooth, Herr Bartley, but every setback prepared me for the triumphs to come.”

“And then came a turning point with Nabucco?”

“Ah, Nabucco! Premiered in 1842. By this time, I had grown in skill and confidence. The story of the Hebrews in captivity, the grandeur of the chorus, the stirring melodies — it all came together. And yet, more than anything, it was the people’s reaction that changed my life. When the chorus of the Hebrew slaves rang out, the audience wept, cheered, sang along. In that moment, I knew that music could mowe the soul, could giwe woice to a nation’s hopes and sorrows.  the song became not just of the Hebrews, but of all Italians who longed for     now I personally was extremely fortunate to obtain a public domain copy of Celeste Iida as     .”

4 Nabucco

So your early operas were not just musical exercises, but also deeply entwined with the spirit of Italy at the time?”

“Precisely, Herr Bartley. I was drawn to stories of struggle, of lowe, of moral courage. Italy herself, fragmented and longing for unity, mirrored the dramas I wanted to tell on stage. And the people — their voices, their emotions — were always my true inspiration.”  Note my chorus from Nabucco by the name of “va, pensiero”. Here is a musical anthem for the enslaved Israelites in my opera, in which they lament their situation and evoke the beauties of their homeland.

va, pensiero from Nabucco

Ah, Maestreo Verdi, from what I understand, you would go on to works such as Macbeth, and eventually your great masterpieces in the 1850s and ’60s. But it all began in that tiny village, with an organ, a mentor, and a relentless desire to tell stories.”

“Ja, Herr Bartley. Newer forget, it is not the grandeur of the stage that creates the music, but the passion within the composer, the fire that refuses to be extinguished. From small notes to grand choruses — that is my journey, my life, my music.”

“And then I believe a turning point came with Nabucco?”

4 Nabucco - Overture

Each successive work explored human passions more deeply: lowe, ambition, revenge, and moral conflict. I sought not just to entertain, but to touch the heart and conscience of the audience. My melodies became more dramatic, my orchestration more daring, and my characters more wiwid.”

“And your personal life — I understand it was marked by tragedy during this time?”

Si. in 1840, my beloved wife, Margherita, and our two children, died within a short span. I was shattered. The grief haunted me for years. Some say this sorrow gave my music a new intensity — a depth of emotion that audiences still feel today. Pain, Herr Bartley, can be a powerful teacher.”

“And yet, Maestro verdi. despite your personal losses, you continued to produce some of your greatest works?”

Ah, Señor Bartley, “Indeed. I Believe that as a result of my losses I was motivated to compose Rigoletto (1851), Il Trovatore (1853), and La Traviata (1853).

5 La Traviata

Here, I refined the interplay between melody and drama, the tension between character and circumstance. Each aria, each chorus, sought to reveal the inner lives of my characters. The music had to breathe, to speak for itself, yet remain inseparable from the story.”

Maestro Verdi,  Your operas became hugely popular across Italy and beyond. How did you feel about that kind of fame?”

“Fame was… complicated. I was proud that my music touched people, that the stories of Love, betrayal, and courage resonated. Yet I remained intensely priwate, focused on the craft rather than applause. I measured success not by critics or ticket sales, but by whether the music mowed the soul.”

So, Maestro Verdi, your middle period not only solidified your style but also reflected the personal and political currents of the time.”

“Exactly. Passion, loss, ambition, hope — these are the forces that shape music, life, and history. From Rigoletto to La Traviata, my aim was always to tell human stories that would endure, that would speak across generations.”

“Maestro, after your middle period, you entered what many call the pinnacle of your career. Tell us about that time.”

“Ah, yes, Herr Bartley. By the 1870s, I had experienced both triumph and tragedy. I was older, wiser, and, I hope, more attuned to the human heart.

Maestro Verdi - could you be referring to Aida - perhaps you're most well-known composition?

Ah, Aida! That work was quite unlike anything  that I had done before, both in scope and in ambition. I did not come up with the story myself — the commission came from the Khediwe of Egypt, who wanted a grand opera for the opening of a new Cairo opera house. The libretto was written by Antonio Ghislanzoni, based on an idea by Auguste Mariette, the French Egyptologist. My task was to take this story of lowe, war, and duty and giwe it music that could match the grandeur of the Nile and the pyramids themselves.

Composing Aida was a challenge. I had to imagine not only the priwate emotions of the characters but also the spectacle — massive choruses, triumphal marches, and even a “grand march of soldiers” that could rival a parade.

My notes were filled with sketches of themes for Radamès, Aida, and Amneris, weaving their identities through the music. did. Each recurring melody had to reflect both the character’s inner world and the cultural setting of ancient Egypt.

The aria “Celeste Aida” is a good example: it is both intimate and heroic. Radamès expresses his longing for Aida, but the music must also allow him to rise to grandeur on stage, commanding attention and authority. That was my constant struggle: intimacy in the arias, yet splendor for the stage.

Ah, now the spectacle! The Cairo premiere in 1871 was to be a lawish ewent. Picture this: the stage is enormous, flanked by towering columns and painted backdrops suggesting the Nile, palaces, and temples. Costumes are gleaming: gold and turquoise for the pharaohs and Egyptian nobility, deep reds and purples for Amneris and the court, and simple but elegant attire for Aida, as a captured Ethiopian princess.

The grand procession scene — the Triumphal March — is unforgettable. Soldiers march in full armor, accompanied by a massive chorus and even live animals in some productions! The stage must feel alive, bustling with people, music, and movement. The orchestra swells, trumpets blare, and the audience can almost smell the incense and see the desert sun. Every gesture, every step of the dancers and singers, is carefully coordinated with the music to create a living tableau.

6 Aida - Triumphal March

The finale is heartbreaking: Aida and Radamès die together in the underground tomb, a quiet, tender contrast to the earlier pomp. The staging shifts from monumental splendor to intimate tragedy, demonstrating my lowe for both human emotion and grand spectacle. It is a balance I have always sought — the private heart of a character framed within monumental history.

Permit me to speak more of Aida.  Ah, yes! Imagine being commissioned to write an opera for the opening of a new Cairo opera house — the Khediwe himself watching ewery rehearsal. One must satisfy royalty, the audience, and one’s own artistic soul all at once. Aida was to be monumental, and I had to think of every note, every gesture, every costume.

And Maestro Verdii, I understand that the Cairo premiere was quite the spectacle.

Indeed, Señor Bartley - Imagine columns towering like the temples of the Nile, backdrops of palaces and desert, costumes shimmering in gold and turquoise. The Triumphal March — soldiers marching, choruses swelling, trumpets blazing — the stage literally aliwe with life, music, and motion. Some productions ewen had real animals! And yet, in the tomb scene, the final moments of Aida and Radamès, the music and staging contract to a quiet, intimate tragedy. It is that contrast — spectacle and priwate grief — that I adore.  Remember, Herr Bartley: the glory of the stage is nothing without the beating hearts of the characters. Grand processions may dazzle, but it is Love, jealousy, and duty that linger in the soul. Aida is both monumental and intimate — an opera of two worlds at once.

That’s amazing, Maestro. I can almost see it! And I imagine the orchestration must have been extremely complex.

Complex, yes, but necessary. Every melody, every harmony must serve both character and spectacle. One cannot simply write music; one writes a living tableau. That is the true art of opera.

Maestro, That sounds extremely intense. At the risk of sounding redundant could you tell us more about the story and the characters?

Certainly. You know that Aida is a princess, secretly enslaved. Radamès, the Egyptian general, loves her. Amneris, the princess of Egypt, also loves Radamès. It is a story of Love, honor, and loyalty, set against the backdrop of war and politics. I Cave each of them music that recurs throughout the opera, melodies that speak of their hearts — perhaps not leitmotifs as Wagner would call them, but personal signatures, if you like.

And the famous aria — “Celeste Aida,” for example — what was your approach there?

Ah, “Celeste Aida”! Radamès expresses longing and heroism all at once. The singer must convey tenderness and courage, and the orchestra must support both the intimate and the grand. That balance, Herr Bartley, was my constant challenge: to capture private emotion while maintaining monumental stage presence.

Señor  I was extremely fortunate to obtain a public domain copy of Celeste Aida as sung by one of the greatest tenors of all time.  In my opinion, the quality of the recording is excellent - especially for 1908 - and the tenor is none other than the great Enrico Caruso

7 Celeste_Aida_1908

And speaking of the stage — I understand that the Cairo premiere was quite the spectacle.

Indeed! Imagine columns towering like the temples of the Nile, backdrops of palaces and desert, costumes shimmering in gold and turquoise. The Triumphal March — soldiers marching, choruses swelling, trumpets blazing — the stage literally aliwe with life, music, and motion. Some productions ewen had real animals! And yet, in the tomb scene, the final moments of Aida and Radamès, the music and staging contract to a quiet, intimate tragedy. It is that contrast — spectacle and private grief — that I adore.  Remember, Herr Bartley: the glory of the stage is nothing without the beating hearts of the characters. Grand processions may dazzle, but it is lowe, jealousy, and duty that linger in the soul. Aida is both monumental and intimate — an opera of two worlds at once.

That’s amazing, Maestro. I can almost see it! And I imagine the orchestration must have been complex.

Complex, yes, but necessary. Every melody, every harmony must serwe both character and spectacle. One cannot simply write music; one writes a liwing tableau. That is the true art of opera.

“And your operas Otello (1887) and Falstaff (1893) came even later?

8 Otello - Dio ti giocondi”

“Indeed. With Otello, I turned to Shakespeare once again, embracing the subtlety, the psychological depth. Music must breathe with the drama, every phrase revealing the soul of the characters.

Falstaff, my last opera, allowed me to delight in comedy — to show that ewen in old age, one can laugh, and that music can embrace the full range of life, from tragedy to humor. I composed it well into my sewenties, yet I felt no less passion, no less fire than in my youth.”

“And your personal life — were you able to find peace in these later years?”

“Yes, to a degree. I married my companion Giuseppina Strepponi, who had been a singer and a steadfast friend. Together we lived quietly in Villa Sant’Agata, surrounded by my music, my books, and the beauty of the Italian countryside. I continued to compose, revise, and correspond with friends and colleagues, always searching for clarity, simplicity, and truth in music.”

Maestro Verdi, how would you summarize your philosophy as a composer?”
“
Music must serve humanity, señor Bartley. It must speak of the passions, the triumphs, the sorrows that define us. Melody, drama, and emotion are inseparable. I sought not to impress, but to communicate — to make the listener feel, reflect, and liwe the stories as if they themselves were actors on the stage. Opera is life amplified.”

“And when did you leave this earthly life?”

“I departed on January 27, 1901, in Milan, at the age of 87. My life had been long, full of music, struggle, lowe, and loss. I hope my operas continue to speak, to inspire, and to remind humanity of its beauty and fragility.”

“And there it is — the life of Giuseppe verity, a man who began in a small willage with a church organ, yet whose music would echo through the world for generations. From humble beginnings to monumental masterpieces, his journey is a testament to the power of passion, resilience, and the enduring voice of art.”

Sources include

Walker, Frank (1982) [1962]. The Man Verdi. University of Chicago Press. 
Werfel, Franz; Stefan, Paul (1973). Verdi: The Man and His Letters. New York: Vienna House.
Chat GPT five.

Join celebrate creativity for episode 492 as we delve into the life of Brahms.

And to close this episode is the Massachusetts Institute of Tvchnology  Symphony Orchestra playing a selection from Verdi’s La TraViata.

MIT Symphony Orchestra

Musical attributions:

Oberto, by Verdi, Giuseppe, Source: https://dl.musopen.org/recordings/d63e9861-e04b-431a-8549-916bff26e0ce.mp3?filename=Verdi%20-%20Oberto%20-%201.mp3 License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Nabucco: Va pensiero (Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves) by Verdi, Giuseppe
https://www.yourclassical.org/episode/2022/05/20/giuseppe-verdi-nabucco-va-pensiero-chorus-of-the-hebrew-slaves License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Overture from Nabucco, composed by Verdi, Giuseppe, Source:https://dl.musopen.org/recordings/33a31d00-8fc2-4621-8db2-3c771fe6c205.mp3?filename=Nabucco%20-%20Overture.mp3 License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Overture from La Traviata, composed by Verdi, Giuseppe, Source:https://dl.musopen.org/recordings/d63e9861-e04b-431a-8549-916bff26e0ce.mp3?filename=Verdi%20-%20Oberto%20-%201.mp3 License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Triumphal March from Aida, composed by Verdi, Giuseppe, Source: https://dl.musopen.org/f02c72c5-29bb-47e1-8ff7-af1ee454da67.pdf?filename=Aida%20-%20Triumphal%20March%201.MP3 License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Celeste Aida by Verdi, Giuseppe, performed by Enrico Caruso, Source:
https://dn721807.ca.archive.org/0/items/CelesteAida1908/Celeste_Aida_1908.mp3 (2)  License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Dio ti giocondi from Otello, composed by Verdi, Giuseppe, Source:https://musopen.org/music/1930-otello/#google_vignette
https://dl.musopen.org/recordings/d2f8bd21-2d66-4f68-b235-2afe411686a5.mp3?filename=Otello%20-%20Dio%20ti%20giocondi.mp3, License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Brindisi from La Traviata, composed by Verdi, Giuseppe, performed by the United States Marine band, https://www.quantumdigitalmedia.de/Classicals-Music/Music/Opera%20Collection/Classicals.de%20-%20La%20Traviata%2C%20Brindisi%20-%20Verdi%2C%20Giuseppe%20%28MIT%20Symphony%20Orchestra%29.mp3, License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Volare su Piante by Gieuseppie Verdi, performed by Antogiu, Source:
https://pixabay.com/music/search/verdi/ License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Celeste Aida written by Verdi, Giuseppe, performed by Enrico Caruso, from a 1908 Victrola Recording, https://archive.org/details/CelesteAida1908, License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Verdi, Giuseppe - La Traviata, Brindisi (MIT Symphony Orchestra), https://pixabay.com/music/search/verdi/ License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Celeste Aida written by Verdi, Giuseppe, performed by Enrico Caruso, from a 1908 Victrola Recording, https://archive.org/details/CelesteAida1908, License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).