01 August 2025

Pia Bernauer

Weekly SpinOn:
Passione Italiana – Puccini

The third playlist in our Italian opera series turns to Puccini, presented in chronological order. It begins with the youthful lyricism of the Act I duet from La Bohème, moves to the intimate prayer “Vissi d’arte” from Tosca, lingers in the atmospheric stillness of the “Humming Chorus” from Madama Butterfly, and closes with the iconic tenor aria “Nessun dorma” from Turandot. Four contrasting forms – duet, soprano aria, chorus and tenor aria – trace Puccini’s gift for melody, theatre and orchestral colour across three decades of his career.

(And by the way, the cover picture shows Puccini with a car as a nod to his passion for fast cars and modern life, which matched the drive and drama in his music.)

Track 1: La Bohème, Act I: O soave fanciulla – Giacomo Puccini

When people talk about Puccini, they often mention the tears, the big arias, and the dramatic deaths. But Puccini also knew how to write scenes that feel completely natural – like a page from real life. And nowhere is that clearer than in the love duet that closes the first act of La Bohème.

Puccini was born in Lucca, in Tuscany, in 1858. After his studies in Milan, he became known as a new voice in Italian opera with Le Villi and Edgar. These early works already showed his gift for melody and atmosphere, but it was Manon Lescaut in 1893 that made him famous all over Italy. With that success behind him, Puccini set out to tell a smaller, more intimate story: the lives of young artists in Paris.

La Bohème is based on Henri Murger’s Scènes de la vie de bohème, a series of stories about poor writers, painters and musicians in 1830s Paris. In this duet, O soave fanciulla, we meet Rodolfo, a young poet, and Mimì, a shy young woman who makes a little money sewing flowers and clothes. They are both very poor, living in small rooms in the same building. Mimì comes to ask for a light for her candle. Their conversation begins hesitantly and then blossoms into music as they fall in love almost at first sight.

Herbert von Karajan recorded this scene with Mirella Freni and Luciano Pavarotti, two of the most famous Puccini singers of the 20th century. Their voices rise together at the end of the act – a simple, tender moment that shows why La Bohème became one of the most loved operas of all time.

1975 – La Bohème: Rehearsal photo, Karajan with Mirella Freni as Mimi, ©Siegfried Lauterwasser, Karajan-Archive

Track 2: Tosca, Act II: Vissi d’arte – Giacomo Puccini

If La Bohème is Puccini’s opera about youth and love, Tosca is his opera about power, passion and cruelty. Where La Bohème feels small and personal, Tosca takes place in Rome at a time of political danger. Everything about this opera is intense: love and jealousy, art and religion, fear and betrayal.

After the success of Manon Lescaut and La Bohème, Puccini wanted a story with more tension. He found it in a French play by Victorien Sardou. The heroine, Floria Tosca, is a famous singer; her lover, Mario Cavaradossi, is a painter and revolutionary. When Mario is arrested by the cruel chief of police, Baron Scarpia, Tosca is drawn into a terrible game: if she gives herself to Scarpia, Mario will live.

In Act II, when Scarpia pushes her to make this impossible choice, time suddenly stops. Tosca turns to God and sings “Vissi d’arte” – “I lived for art, I lived for love”. It is one of Puccini’s most intimate arias, written as a simple prayer in the middle of all the noise and tension.

Herbert von Karajan recorded this aria in 1979 with Katia Ricciarelli and the Berlin Philharmonic. It was his second studio recording of Tosca – the first had been in 1962 with Leontyne Price. In 1979, Ricciarelli was a fresh and very lyrical voice for the role, lighter than many Toscas of the past. She was not the obvious dramatic choice, but Karajan loved her timbre and her control in soft singing. In “Vissi d’arte”, this gives the scene a more intimate, almost fragile colour – a private prayer in the middle of a cruel story.

Karajan, Katia Ricciarelli (right) and Placido Domingo (left) during recordings of Puccini’s “Turandot” ©Siegfried Lauterwasser; Karajan-Archive

 

Track 3: Madama Butterfly, Act II: Coro a bocca chiusa “Humming Chorus” – Giacomo Puccini

Few pieces in opera are as delicate and as haunting as the short “Humming Chorus” in Madama Butterfly. It comes late in Act II, after the young Japanese woman Cio-Cio-San – called Butterfly – has been abandoned by the American naval officer she married. She has been waiting for him to return for three years. At this point in the opera, she finally believes she sees his ship coming back. Exhausted, she decorates her small house, puts her child to bed and begins an all-night vigil.

Madama Butterfly and Suzuki in the garden

Puccini found the story in a play by David Belasco, itself based on a short story by John Luther Long. It fascinated him: the meeting of two cultures, the innocence of Butterfly, and the tragedy that grows from her blind trust. If you are curious how Puccini included elements of Japanese music in this opera, we talked about that in more detail in our playlist “Voyage Romantique” – you can find it here.

The piece is officially titled Coro a bocca chiusa, which means “chorus with closed mouths”. Instead of singing words, the choir only hums on a single soft vowel sound. That is why it is often simply called the “Humming Chorus”. The music floats in the background while Butterfly, her child and her maid sit silently, waiting for dawn. There are no big melodies or climaxes – just a hushed sound like night air, and the feeling that time has stopped.

Herbert von Karajan recorded Madama Butterfly in 1974 with Mirella Freni as Butterfly. It was his second studio recording of the opera, and under his direction the chorus sings in a soft thread of sound, while the orchestra paints the moonlit garden in delicate colours. It is one of the most atmospheric moments in all of Puccini’s operas – and all the more heartbreaking because it is so quiet.

 

Track 4: Turandot, Act III: Nessun dorma! – Giacomo Puccini

With Turandot, Puccini left the intimate world of La Bohème, Tosca and Madama Butterfly behind and turned to a grand, fairy-tale setting: ancient China, full of splendour, danger and ritual. It was his last opera. Puccini worked on it from 1920 until his death in 1924, leaving the final act unfinished. The premiere in 1926 used a completion by the composer Franco Alfano.

The story is based on a Persian fairy tale that travelled to Europe in the 18th century: Princess Turandot has sworn never to marry. Any man who wants her must solve three riddles – and if he fails, he dies. Many princes have already been executed. In the third act, the unknown prince who has solved the riddles waits through the night, knowing that by morning she must choose: love or death.

“Nessun dorma” – “None shall sleep” – is the prince’s quiet but unshakable declaration that she will not be able to resist him. It is one of Puccini’s most famous arias: it begins softly, almost like a whispered thought, and grows into a broad, radiant line that ends with the word “Vincerò!” – “I will win!”.

The vast square of the Royal Palace, sketch by Galileo Chini for Turandot, 1924 – Ricordi Historical Archive

Herbert von Karajan recorded Turandot in 1981 with Plácido Domingo as the unknown prince (often called Calaf). It was his second studio recording of the opera. Karajan, when preparing Turandot in the late 1970s and early 1980s, dreamed of filming the entire opera on location in Beijing’s Forbidden City with his cast and the Vienna Philharmonic. He even made exploratory trips, but the project was never realized for political and logistical reasons. (Decades later, Zhang Yimou finally staged Turandot there in the 1990s.) In this recording, Domingo’s voice has both strength and a long, lyrical line, and the Vienna Philharmonic brings out the glowing, exotic colours in Puccini’s score. It is a triumphant ending to this playlist – and to Puccini’s journey as a composer.

 

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