Sole e amore is an art song by Giacomo Puccini, written in 1888.  He repurposed the music eight years later as the main theme in the act III duet, and subsequent quartet in La Boheme.  The author of the text is listed as “Anonymous” but it is presumed that it was written by Puccini himself.  The song first appeared in the magazine Paganini, and it happened that the publisher of the magazine, Camilio Sivori had studied violin with Paganini.  The last line of text is a dedication from Puccini—“Al Paganini, G. Puccini”.

One of the reasons I wanted to write about this piece is its similarities to grand Italian opera, specifically that of Puccini.  Two things come to mind when I am preparing the music of Puccini.  Firstly, everything should be approached orchestrally and secondly, I must be aware of every single marking in the score.

The majority of Puccini’s output is operatic, and the pieces that aren’t operatic are still scored for orchestra.  Puccini had all the colors of a large, grand opera sized orchestra at his fingertips.  When playing Puccini, those colors and textures can and should be imitated on a piano—whether the piece is a piano reduction of an opera, or an art song like Sole e amore.  I would strongly suggest listening to the act III duet and quartet from La Boheme as part of the preparation process for this piece.  The layers of sound within the orchestra will be essential in performance.  What lines do you hear above the rest?  What instruments are sharper, or more legato? For example, the staccati marked in the first five bars of the piece—whether pizzicato strings, or a staccato woodwind the nature of those instruments will vibrate after being played.  The sound resonates in the air.  As a result, I don’t want to play a short, sharp staccato but allow the sound to vibrate a little (a half pedal or quick pedal change really helps to achieve this effect.).  When I listen to the orchestrated version (essential to preparation of an opera score but also incredibly helpful with this piece), I can decide what is most important, what lives in the foreground, the middle ground, and the background, and how I want to best portray those colors.

Puccini is meticulous in the marking of his scores.  Looking at the second page of the score, there are seven tempo markings within just two systems of music.  Because of this, we must be just as meticulous in how we approach rubato with Puccini.  Translate everything!  Sostenuto is different than sostenendo, ritardando is different then ritenuto, perdendosi is different than morendo.  Gerunds carry a different feeling than past participles.  The pianist (and singer) has to know what every tempo marking means as much as the text.  Secondly, the rubato that we all know and love in Puccini’s compositions is already marked in the score.  We must adhere religiously to his markings, and not add to what he has already written.  There is a great temptation to make everything schleppy and saccharine but that only serves to diminish the rubato that Puccini has put in the score.  His music must be approached come scritto at all times.

Speaking to rubato in Puccini, I wanted to throw out one more idea.  Sometimes the amount of tempo markings, or where he has placed them in the score can seem a bit seasick.  The more I have played his operatic rep, and worked with Italian trained maestri, the tempo change or stretch in the music needs to have pieces of the tempo we are coming from and the tempo of where we are going.  Stay with me here, I know this sounds a bit “woo”.  If I stretch a piece of bread dough—the piece in my left hand being the tempo we came from, and the piece in my right hand being the tempo we are going to—the middle bit is made up of both tempi, and is flexible.  We avoid seasickness, and jagged or disparate tempo changes.  Everything is related to where we have come from, and also where we are going.  The result we then present is unified, and coherent as a complete piece, and not various and individual sections strung together without any connective tissue.

I love art song and I love Puccini!  What are some of your favorites, and what would you like to talk about?

    A friend and colleague of mine (Robert Bosworth: Trained Musician©) mentioned the definition of the verb “to accompany” in one of his videos the other day.  His definition was to go somewhere with someone—not simply to follow.  This simple little bit of information was a lightbulb for me.  As collaborative pianists, sometimes we follow the singer but other times, we lead and might even drive the tempo when necessary.  This all begs the question, when do I follow, and when do I lead, or even drive the tempo?  My mentor in grad school used to say it was like there was a rope between me and my singer.  Sometimes I pull, sometimes the singer pulls, but the rope never goes slack.  It’s a conversation or better said, a dance between two musicians that are telling the same story, and walking on the same journey.
    The absolute simplest answer is whomever has the smallest note values, can control the tempo.  If my singer needs me to go faster, and I have a whole note under their quarter notes, there’s not much I can do about changing that tempo.  The other side of that is I can easily help my singer through a long held note by adding some forward motion to the moving line underneath them.  Case in point, if I am playing an audition, and the tenor is singing Dalla sua pace from Don Giovanni, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help until at least measure 9 if they start too slow (yep, I’ve recently had a conversation about this very piece with a student tenor. “You really don’t want to go that slow, and I can’t help!”)
    So really, how do I know when to follow or when to lead?  Another simple answer is to go to the score.  If the are markings such as colla voce, fermatas over the vocal line, or if the singer has way too many fast notes to sing, it is definitely my job to follow.  To me, the heart of this question comes down to breath.  Singing always comes down to breath—the speed of the breath before their onset yes, but also the speed of their breath line.  Phrasing, whether we are speaking or singing is based in the breath of the phrase and the text.  Yes it’s placement of consonants, speed of vibrato, and the connectivity between consonant and vowel but, even all of that can be traced back to the speed of the air behind the sound.  If I were collaborating with a string player, I would call it bow speed.  A pianist can tell so much by the speed and direction of the air within the phrase.  It is a unique way to listen to but is so helpful when I am trying to dance with a singer.
    This also means that I need to do the work on my end.  I need to go into rehearsals with my text translated, having learned the vocal line as well as the piano part, and yes…I need to have sung the vocal line (with or without text) by itself and also while I play the piano part.  Yes, we’re pianists and sometimes singing is really uncomfortable but oh my goodness does it tell me a lot!  I know exactly how much time a human needs to take a breath, or where I might want to help by moving a phrase, or where they might need more time.  If I have learned my part, translated the text, spent time with the poetry, and sung the vocal line while I play, I am in the best possible position to have a conversation with my singing partner—listening to the give and take within the piece, and create a story that we can dance together.