10 July 2025
Pia Bernauer
Weekly SpinOn: The Stages of Verdi

This week’s playlist traces the stages of Verdi’s development—from the fire of his early operas to the psychological depth of his late works. With Ernani, Il trovatore, Un ballo in maschera and Otello, all under the baton of Herbert von Karajan, we follow a composer in constant transformation. Otello marks the final step—still Verdi, but already pointing toward the world of Verismo.
Track 1: Ernani: Overture (Prelude) – Giuseppe Verdi
We begin our journey through Verdi’s world with the brilliant overture to Ernani – a work that still carries the fire and urgency of Verdi’s youth. Composed in 1843 and premiered at La Fenice in Venice in early 1844, Ernani was Verdi’s fifth opera, and the one that confirmed him as the leading new voice of Italian opera. He was 30 years old, still in his so-called “galley years” – a term Verdi himself used to describe his early, relentless pace of composing under tight deadlines and public expectation.

Interior of La Fenice in 1837
The story of Ernani is drawn from a play by Victor Hugo, which Verdi admired for its drama and passion. It’s a convoluted tale of love, loyalty, rebellion and honor – centered on a noble outlaw (Ernani) who loves Elvira, a woman promised to another man. The plot spins through disguises, vengeance, secret pacts and royal intrigue, culminating in Ernani’s ritual suicide. It’s full of melodrama, but in Verdi’s hands, it becomes a framework for bold musical statements and unforgettable energy.
The overture, which Karajan recorded decades later with the Berliner Philharmoniker, encapsulates the spirit of the opera with remarkable efficiency. It opens with a dark, ominous brass fanfare – a motif that echoes the tragic ending. Then it shifts rapidly into galloping rhythms and vigorous string passages that mirror the rebellious passion of the hero. The music is urgent, martial, and theatrical, alternating between light-footed energy and thunderous resolution.
Karajan recorded this overture in 1975 with the Berlin Philharmonic for a special album called Verdi: Overtures & Preludes, released by Deutsche Grammophon. The album includes only orchestral openings from Verdi’s operas – no singing, just the music that sets the scene. Although Karajan is best known for conducting full-length operas, this project gave him the chance to focus on the dramatic power of Verdi’s orchestral writing. His version of Ernani is tight and energetic – never overdone, but full of drive. The music is shaped with precision, and it moves forward with unstoppable momentum. In Karajan’s hands, this overture becomes more than just an introduction – it feels like a full story about youthful passion heading toward tragedy.
Placed at the beginning of this playlist, the Ernani overture stands not only as a portrait of Verdi’s early style – energetic, idealistic, and melodramatic – but also as a musical signpost. It points to the themes that would occupy Verdi for decades: the conflict between private love and public duty, the allure of rebellion, and the tragic cost of honor.
We are still far from the psychological realism of Verdi’s later works. But in Ernani, the seeds are already sown. And in Karajan’s performance, we hear them pushed forward with all the force of a young man’s fire – as seen through the lens of a master conductor who knew how to let the orchestra speak as a full dramatic voice.
Track 2: Il trovatore, Act 4: “D’amor sull’ali rosee” – Giuseppe Verdi
By the time Verdi composed Il trovatore, he was no longer a rising star—he was the dominant voice of Italian opera. The work premiered in 1853, and though it came just before La traviata and Rigoletto, it belongs to the same creative peak: Verdi’s middle period, where the music deepens, the characters grow more intense, and the drama moves from political to deeply personal.
Il trovatore is famous for its complex (some might say impossible) plot, involving mistaken identities, gypsies, revenge, love triangles, and tragic misunderstandings. But what really made the opera last is its raw emotion—and Verdi’s instinct for writing melodies that go straight to the heart.
The aria “D’amor sull’ali rosee” (“On the rosy wings of love”) comes in Act IV, at a moment of quiet desperation. Leonora, the opera’s tragic heroine, pleads with fate to carry her love to the imprisoned Manrico. The music is suspended, almost motionless; it floats more than it moves. Unlike the aggressive fire of earlier arias, this one is all breath and sorrow—a perfect example of how Verdi, by the 1850s, could write scenes of powerful emotion with economy and grace.

Maria Callas and Karajan at La Scala in 1954, ©Erio Piccagliani;Karajan-Archive
The recording was made in 1956 at La Scala, with Maria Callas and the Orchestra del Teatro alla Scala under Herbert von Karajan. It’s widely regarded as one of the most sensitive and lyrical moments in their collaboration. What’s extraordinary here is how seamlessly Callas’ voice and the orchestra melt into each other. There’s no hard edge between singer and accompaniment—just a continuous flow of phrasing, color, and breath. Karajan doesn’t treat the orchestra as background; instead, he weaves it around the vocal line like silk, echoing and anticipating each nuance. Callas responds with a voice that feels at once intimate and expansive—her singing less like a performance, more like a confession.
Placed second in our playlist, this aria represents a shift from Verdi’s youthful fire to a more mature emotional world. The overture to Ernani stormed the gates. Il trovatore opens the heart. In this aria, Verdi shows that inner turmoil can be just as dramatic as outer action—a lesson that would lead him straight toward the realism of Otello and beyond.
Track 3: Un ballo in maschera, Act 1: Overture – Giuseppe Verdi
As Verdi reached his 40s, his operas took on a more refined shape. Un ballo in maschera, premiered in 1859, belongs to his mature phase—a period of control, elegance, and deeper emotional balance. It is a story of love and betrayal, duty and sacrifice, set—rather improbably—in colonial Boston. The setting was a concession to Italian censors, who objected to the opera’s original subject: the assassination of a real monarch. But Verdi made it work. His focus was never on historical accuracy—it was on human truth.

Leo Nucci as Count René Anckarstöm and Josephine Barstow as Amelia
Music ©Salzburger Festspiele/Weber, Karajan-Archive
For Karajan, Un ballo in maschera held a special place. In July 1989, at the age of 81, he was in the middle of rehearsals for a new production of the opera at the Salzburg Festival. He was working closely with Plácido Domingo, who was singing the role of Riccardo, alongside Josephine Barstow as Amelia and Leo Nucci as Renato. The production marked a full-circle moment: Verdi’s refined storytelling interpreted by Karajan at the end of his long musical life.
But it was not to be. Just days before the premiere, Karajan died suddenly at his home in Anif, near Salzburg. The opera he had returned to in his final summer remained unfinished—his last musical project. The performance went ahead under the baton of Sir Georg Solti, who stepped in at the last minute. The emotional weight of that premiere, in the wake of Karajan’s death, is still remembered as one of Salzburg’s most charged moments.
Thankfully, Karajan had the custom of recording operas in the studio before staging them. It was part of his working method: preparing a score in detail, away from the demands of live performance. This Ballo, recorded in 1988, was meant as a foundation for the 1989 Salzburg production. When that performance never came, the recording remained—the only complete version of his final interpretation. It now stands as both a musical document and an unexpected farewell. The track we hear in this playlist comes from that very recording.
Placed third in this playlist, Un ballo in maschera marks a turning point—not just in Verdi’s development toward more psychological drama, but in Karajan’s own late career. This is no longer the heat of youth or the sweep of romantic tragedy. What we hear is a mature composer and a seasoned conductor, each shaping the drama with clarity, distance, and control.
Track 4: Otello, Act 3: “Dio! mi potevi scagliar” – Giuseppe Verdi
By the time Verdi composed Otello, he had long since withdrawn from the operatic stage. It was only the encouragement of his publisher and librettist that brought him back, nearly sixteen years after Aida. The result was a late masterpiece—compact, tightly structured, and dramatically direct. Otello, premiered in 1887, belongs to Verdi’s final phase: a period marked by restraint, psychological detail, and a new kind of dramatic realism.
The aria “Dio! mi potevi scagliar” is one of the opera’s emotional turning points. Otello, now fully consumed by doubt and jealousy, begins to unravel. There is no traditional aria structure here—no time to reflect in beautiful melody. The emotion pushes forward, the music follows the character’s state of mind. In this, Otello reveals how far Verdi had moved from the world of his earlier works. He wasn’t writing for the voice anymore—he was writing for the stage.
Karajan’s recording, made in 1974 for EMI, captures that dramatic focus. His Otello is Jon Vickers, a singer often described as one of the greatest ever in the role. Vickers brings a voice of enormous power and depth, but also a volatile emotional presence. He doesn’t just sing Otello—he inhabits him. Karajan matches that intensity with an orchestral approach that is both tight and responsive, always supporting the drama rather than surrounding it.

Jon Vickers as Otello, ©Siegfried Lauterwasser, Karajan-Archive
In the context of this playlist, Otello represents the final stage of Verdi’s development. It leaves behind the conventions of earlier Italian opera and moves into something leaner, more modern, and more psychologically driven. While Verdi never wrote in the Verismo style himself, Otello stands at the threshold of that world. It is not Verismo—but it shows us how Verismo became possible.
— Pia Bernauer (Karajan Insitut, Salzburg)

