Oscar Del Barba Ox Quartet - Giuseppe verdi entangled (2020)

At first sight, one might be tempted to say that there are hardly two musical genres more different from each other than Italian opera and jazz. The quintessence of Italian opera is melody, sometimes to the detriment of rhythm and of the daring explorations of harmony, which are two among the most fundamental components of jazz. However, this simplistic view needs to be qualified, and an album such as this may helpfully dispel some myths: by underpinning the potential of Verdi’s music for jazz interpretations, it highlights the hidden qualities of his use of harmony and rhythm, which may get unnoticed under the fascination of his unforgettable melodies.

The choice to open this album with a reinterpretation of the “Coro degli zingari” from Trovatore is a particularly apt one. Verdi used the comparative exoticism of gypsy music, seen through the lenses of the Italian musical language, and the unusual rhythmical drive of the anvils’ percussion, in order to create a cross-cultural piece capable of conquering his audiences with the intersection between the unfamiliar (and therefore enticing) and the familiar (and therefore reassuring). This is a process similar in kind to that originating jazz itself, an encounter with “the Other”, and a hybridisation of musical languages of a varied provenance. Moreover, the (literally) hammering beat of Verdi’s original lends itself to a modern reinterpretation, which begins by adopting it in its obsessive form, and later transforms it into a freer concept.

The equally famous scene of the toast in Traviata is shrewdly reinterpreted. Fascinatingly, the jazz arrangement begins equivocally: while Verdi’s original immediately states the cheerful mood, the tonal range, the bouncing rhythm setting the scene’s mood, here we have indeterminate sound and harmony, and virtually no rhythmically recognizable beat. Only gradually, with the emergence of the theme, the brilliant and cheerful atmosphere starts to appear, and – fascinatingly – the closer the arrangement gets to the spirit of the original, the farther it goes from its superficially recognizable features; the result is as sparkling and lively as the original, but in a very refreshing perspective.

Similarly, Violetta’s heartrending “farewell to the past”, the moment when the heroine of Traviata renounces her dreams and accepts her fate, is perceptively recreated. The initial prelude, in the solitary utterance of the sax, seems to parallel the unspeakable loneliness of a young woman whose illness plunges her from a context of shallow brilliancy to suffering and death. The piano’s interventions, with the eerie “wrong” octaves, which successfully reproduce the idea of an out-of-tune piano, contribute to this feeling of looming doom. Later, as the piece finds its rhythmic shape with an ostinato, the atmosphere changes slightly, but without abandoning the overall mood.

Just as Germont reminds his son of the “sea and sun” of his birthplace, Provence, Verdi’s famous theme is reduced to a memory, a topography of the feelings where not everything is present, and just a shadow of what has been resurfaces. The dialogue between two generations is also evoked by the interaction of the instruments, transmitting to each other the beautiful tune of Verdi’s original, in an increasing density of feeling.

The fiery nature of the stake where the witch of Trovatore will be burnt is suggested by the quicksilver chains of notes lighted by the performers in “Di quella pira”: the jazz arrangements manages to convey the heroic and bold attitude of the young protagonist, while also looking in a slightly ironic perspective to his boasting. The central section, with the violent clash of rhythms and harmonies, seems to convey the terrifying and yet fascinating seduction of a burning fire.

The positive character of Leonora and her devout prayers are efficaciously evoked in the arrangement of “Pace, pace mio Dio!”, where a kind of childlike innocence pervades the jazz version, both in the sounds chosen for symbolising her musically, and in the purposefully simple harmonizations at the beginning. The conclusion, after the thickening texture of the middle section, seems once more to recover the enchanted purity expressed in this version.

The beautiful musical structure of the jazz arrangement of the “Overture” from one of the darkest and most anguishing operas by Verdi is revealed by the skilful juxtaposition of its sections. Here too, the overall perspective closely mirrors that of the original, with the feeling of an impending doom which seems to condemn inescapably those under it, and which is conveyed by the dense and tense scoring of this piece. Similarly, the desolate opening the jazz version of the “Preludio” from Traviata tells the hearer about the sad destiny of Violetta from the outset, though, as in Verdi’s original, more cheerful moments are not missing, and it is precisely by virtue of this clash that the drama emerges at its most powerful.

Through jazz, therefore, we discover aspects of Verdi’s music which we might have overlooked; as happens to all masterpieces, they stand, or rather enjoy, manipulation, and through it we see “new” facets of well-known works.

Notes by Chiara Bertoglio