martes, 18 de noviembre de 2014

REVIEW: VERDI'S OTHELLO

Ot(h)ello (the opera)
Music by Giuseppe Verdi
Original Libretto by Arrigo Boito: http://www.kareol.es/obras/oteloverdi/acto1.htm
German Libretto by Max Kalbeck http://www.opera-guide.ch/opera.php?id=404&uilang=de

(Dramatic thunder sound effect)


In 1887, a septuagenarian Giuseppe Verdi was preparing to retire from the music world when angry young man (in his late teens or early twenties, neo-Romantic of the kind that called Verdi and Manzoni oldies) Arrigo Boito showed up on his threshold with an unlikely proposal for a swan song:
"Why not do Othello? You write the music and I write the lyrics!"
The veteran, who had already retold the Scottish play (M****th) in his younger years and was fond of the Bard's tales, gladly accepted the upstart's idea. And so, an opera called Otello without the H in original Italian (the German and Swedish, and other translations of the title added the H) was born.

Its first working title was (I'm being honest and serious) The Chocolate Plan. Yes, that's a LOVELY and ÜBER-convenient working title for an Othello retelling.
Its second working title was Iago, which is rather smart yet misleading for those who don't know more than the title of the Shakespearean play (Seriously, I agree that the play should have been called Iago!).

When it premiered, it conquered Italian audiences. And on the 31st of January the next year, the Kalbeck version also captured the drama and thrill of the story, while adding new points of view and insights, before the Germanophone public. Then came France, Hungary, Sweden, Spain, the Anglosphere: translations of the libretto into different languages introduced a rainbow of passion to Occidental high society.

For this review, I'm going to focus on the music by Verdi, the original libretto by Arrigo Boito, and the German libretto by Max Kalbeck, all three of which receive my approval.

But first, a few factoids more:
1: This opera shows great influence of Verdi's rival, the genial Leipziger Richard Wagner (The music is Wagner-style, darker than Verdian usual, and it also features leitmotives!)
2: I have got both librettos, and the Kalbeck is used by me to practise my German language!

0. Dramatis personae
This is the leading cast page. Here be many a trope and the names of some performers who have made their careers by playing these parts:

Ot(h)ello (I'll write Othello in the summary of the play), a great general, dark-skinned, heroic tenor (freaking close to baritone): The second badass to Iago... until his breakdown. I know no better performer for this part than my fellow Spaniard (and fellow Aquarian) Plácido Domingo. He is tailor-made for the part: dashing, knows how to make an entrance... and when he snaps, he snaps: His is the fury.
Desdemona, his young lady, ingénue soprano: This character must look as angelic as possible, for us to fall for her, and to lament her plight as an abused person later on. Kiwi soprano Kiri te Kanawa (of half Maori, half Irish descent) is fair-haired, fair-skinned, lovely, with a voice warm and sweet like a cup of hot white chocolate (and an Aries, by the way). She is as made for the part of Desdemona as Plácido is for the part of Othello, and, in fact, I have got recordings starring the two of them.
Iago, an "honest" ensign, badass baritone (can range from Monsieur Thénardier-style to Tywin Lannister-style, but I opt for something in between): Shaped like himself. How do I even begin to explain Iago? "Iago is flawless. He's really wisecracking. And a real badass. Pretty sinister. I heard he wishes for a promotion to lieutenant. One time, he was kissed by his commanding officer. It was awesome!" There is the comic relief Iago, the villainous Iago, the chum, the wife-beater, the Littlefinger, the rough sergeant, the faithful servant, the sinister psychopath... Which is the real one? This part is many a stage performer's Waterloo, so a good performer must be able to take on the many Iagos there are. So the late Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, a badass German baritone with the most impressive repertoire on both sides of the Lech, was the. Best. Iago. EVER (sadly, he is deceased). They called him a born god. At least, he lives on in the records there are of his performances. By the way, Iago is the Celtic form of James.
Cassio, a faithful young lieutenant, tenor boy: This character is sympathetic, lovable, chosen by Iago to play "the other" in his love triangle farces, an innocent young officer and a gentleman whose expectations are suddenly shattered, and who is trying to restart his life (the German translation makes this character deeper than the original libretto, by showing us the plight, of having to decide between pleasure and duty, that any freshly-baked Leutnant must have felt as well). German-Canadian tenor Kurt Lehmann, who has also played Tybalt in Romeo and Juliet with the same effect, fits the part of Cassio like a glove. Both Tybalt and Cassio are irascible young people, conscious about their image.
Emilia, Desdemona's maid and Iago's wife, soubrette mezzo: The only one able to see through Iago's webs of lies. An older and far more sensible female than Desdemona. I do not remember anyone who played this part in particular (names), but I remember it was one of a strong and straightforward voice, with a physique to match, a real iron lady.
Roderigo, a heartbroken young gentleman, Iago's henchman, tenor boy: this character is essentially Iago's right hand and Desdemona's spurned lover, eager to leave her friendzone. Nothing more to say than that he trusts Iago blindly, even with his own life. And he would believe anything Iago said.

1. Act I
Prelude: The Storm
There is a really short prelude. Just this thunderstorm, with flashes of lightning, for a few seconds. An ephemeral and intense prelude, ending with the men's chorus suddenly shouting: "A sail!" ("See the sail!" in Kalbeck). A sail, a flag, a lion (Lannisters?), dramatic thunder! Cannons fired... it's the warlord's flagship! That pretty much sets up the story to come. Also noteworthy is that Cassio is the first leading character to speak in the whole opera, which will foreshadow his fate as the only survivor. Then speaks Iago, who wishes, in a rather ominous tone, that the ship should wreck and the general should find a watery grave... There we have a couple of establishing character moments!
The ominous darkness and flashing light of the evening storm give this scene a pretty lovely Romantic or Delacroix air, and it also foreshadows, excellently, the emotional storms to come.
It appears that the whole universe is about to come to an end..."Dreadful, with trumpet calls, the Judgment Day approaches! (Kalbeck)".
Then, the other residents of the outpost (women, children, the infirm) address, in chorus, a desperate prayer to the Lord to save their flagship. The prayer itself: heart-rending. We assume that Desdemona is at the head of these pious people resorting to faith:
"God, you hear the pleas of the weak... be the saviour of this strand!
Don't let the darkness put out the star of the motherland!"
At the end of their address, an inopportune Iago suddenly shouts that the mast is broken. His right hand Roderigo points at some treacherous shallows or rocks nearby. Now speaks Iago, who wishes, in a rather ominous tone, that the ship should wreck and the general should find a watery grave...
So, from this, we get the idea that Iago is a real badass. That he is rather sinister. And, if he is not the bad guy, at least he's opposed to Othello. Establishing character moment for Iago!
But then, just as it appeared that Othello's ship had wrecked on the rocks (we shan't kill the title character so early on, shall we?), the women and children whose prayers the Lord must have heard reply in relief:
"Saved! Saved!"
Sigh!
Now all they need to do is to prepare for the landing of the general. We hear Cassio (we assume he was left in charge when his commanding officer departed for the war front) giving orders to fetch ropes, to throw them, to haul the ship to the docks... and the men carrying out these commands, and everyone in the outpost making haste for the docks and arranging themselves for the landing, and then cheering for their leader...
So far, the opera is true to life, heart-wrenching, and establishes the premise pretty quickly. A Scene One proof that the rest of the opera to come will be at least worth watching.
All we need is to introduce the star of the show... and suddenly he makes an entrance worth mentioning!

"REJOICE!"
That's what Othello tells his few subjects as he lands, making an entrance like a burst of fireworks, accompanied by the largest ham I've ever heard of in opera. And he honestly tells us, in his deep manly voice, that the enemy fleet has been conquered by both the good guys and the storm (does this remind anyone of Stannis Baratheon and/or the Spanish Armada?)!
Thank you, Othello, for making such a redoubtable entrance!
So that's a star!... and that's good news!
The war is over! We are the winners! (Now isn't that too good?)
Irradiating respect, charm, and warmth like a shining sun, he holds everyone's attention on both sides of the fourth wall.
The people of the community don't hesitate to join in and cheer with all their might. "Long live Othello!", as the storm fades away into fair weather and a lovely rainbow.
Othello embraces Desdemona, salutes Cassio, and then husband and wife return, hand in hand, into the guardhouse. So far, everything is absolutely perfect!
Then, suddenly, we hear Iago address his henchman, and our attention diverts to a corner in the periphery of the courtyard scene, where these two men are having an interesting conversation.
"So, Roderigo... what do you think?", an ominous and intriguing question is asked.
We are hooked indeed.

Heartbreak and a Bonfire
"So, Roderigo... what do you think?"
"I'd like to die..."
"Only a fool would like to die for love's sake..."
Even those unfamiliar with Shakespeare know this feeling. Unrequited love seems to hurt more than any other kind of disappointment (except, perhaps, the death of the beloved partner). Perhaps that's why it has been featured at the core of so many villains' Freudian excuses (yes, Merope, yes, Petyr, I'm looking at you).
So this young man wants to step out of another person's friendzone. Which means no good.
And then, Iago calmly and softly soothes him by telling him that he will ensure no one else will have Desdemona, for whom this shy violet pines quietly in his dreams. Alright... the one he loves is Desdemona, Othello's lady? And he was too shy, lost his chance, she married someone else? All of this sounds too familiar to me...
"She will not lust after the thick lips of the black beast forever."
Goodness, Iago, calling Othello "black beast"? Pretty racist, but you were MEANT to be racist, so I forgive that.
So Iago and Roderigo are best friends, and the former will never leave the latter in distress. Moreover, the former will help the latter out of any predicament:
"Whatever your heart desires is close to me." The keywords are all there. Like in Shugo Chara Doki! "This will make your heart's desire come true." Or like in Doki Doki Pretty Cure: "I'll make your wish come true!". OK, so the quid in these stories is dramatic irony: the person who makes the wish does not think of its long-term effects. Which actually mirrors real life. Not only that, Iago even swears an oath (to a most sinister tune):
"If the fragile vow of a female
is not too hard a nut to crack for my wits
or for Hell itself..."
Goodness, Iago, "fragile vow of a female?" Pretty sexist, but you were MEANT to be sexist, so I forgive that. Now back to the oath:
"... I swear that you'll soon be cradling your beloved in your arms".
OK, Roderigo has maybe struck a deal with the Evil One, being of course completely unaware. Iago has hurt him in a soft spot. We'll soon get to see Iago hit more soft spots pretty soon. So now we have his MO, as he soothes his best pal and then swears this oath of making him get the girl while pretty ominous music was playing in the background, in ironic dissonance with Iago's loving and compassionate "soothing voice" (I picture him with a Cheshire cat grin as well). Even those who don't know the Shakespeare play get more character establishing for the badass ensign.
After swearing the oath, Iago confides in Roderigo to tell him a secret (What are confidantes for?). So Iago has a secret...
MOTIVE RANT TIME!
(Now this is not Iago's only motive, but merely the trigger/catalyst for a release of pent-up frustration)
The same ominous music is playing still. So we assume Iago is still being in Lando Calrissian Mode.
"Listen to me.
Though I pretend to love him,
I hate the Moor.
And the reason for my hatred... voilà, look over there!"
A good-looking young lieutenant is talking to some ladies and fellow officers at a certain distance, taking up their attention. It's at this person that Iago points with a firm index finger:
"That frilly little officer
has usurped my position,
my position,
which, by one hundred well-fought battles,
I have deserved!
Such was Othello's wish...
And I remain at His Moorish Lordship's service
as ensign!"
So Iago feels displaced by Cassio, the "frilly little officer" ("das aufgeputzte Offizierchen"), and seeks his undoing. Just what every nerd feels about the popular fellows, or siblings often feel towards each other (Stannis, are you there? Remember Renly?). The feeling itself is also recognizable in real life.
But Iago's case is the most relevant: that promotion to lieutenant serves as the flap of wings of the butterfly of chaos for the play. Picturing oneself the scenario may help you understand: during wartime, a scarred veteran was passed over for promotion, which was achieved by a learned greenhorn. Wouldn't that be traumatic for the veteran?
And of couse he has even got to hate the commanding officer who promoted the other lieutenant. For that and for being the wrong skin tone. Pretty racist, Iago, but you were MEANT to be racist, so I forgive that.
Alright, for Iago it's time for turning towards his dupe again:
"As sure as you are Roderigo,
is it a truth that, if I were the Moor,
I would rather have others than a Iago by my side".
So this guy is conscious that his is a mind of mass destruction. A mind like that is a lovely thing to mind, and a terrible thing to waste as well. We're going to follow the progress of this mind, the cards being played out, soft spots being critically hurt.
In the meantime, soldiers are making and lighting a bonfire, which leads to the Fire of Joy Chorus. Which serves as a breather between this exposition or "Iago Explains Corner" and the first move made in the kegger scene. This chorus is an extension of the rejoicing at the end of the war (for both peace and victory). There's all the people, adults and children, gathered around the fire to sing and dance. This song has merry lyrics and upbeat music to suggest the general elation. Everyone's happy. This is the calm before the storm. However, the gathering has to come to an end, and the upbeat, merry melody fades away, turning slower and more eerie... even ominous:
"Soon, the glimmering bonfire will fade away,
soon, the passionate fête will come to an end.
Here, a little flame. There, a little spark,
one little last spark, and ashes remain!
And ashes remain!
And ashes... remain..."
Foreshadowing at this point is a good choice. At the end of the day, ashes will remain...
But we are suddenly startled by IAGO MAKING AN ENTRANCE...

The Kegger
"RODERIGO, LET'S DRINK!"
The second large ham in this opera. Not as powerful as Othello's "REJOICE!", of which this appears to be a parody. Then, Iago switches to Chum Mode and approaches Cassio, while bringing him a glass:
"Here's the cup, Lieutenant..."
"I do not drink."
"What the --? Just let one sip down!"
"No."
An honest and straightforward no. So he's a teetotaler... either that or he can't hold his liquor.
(Here, the opera does not inform us in advance that the lieutenant will soon be on duty, of which we are left unaware until it's too late and he's completely wasted. Well done, Verdi, Boito, Kalbeck as well!).
Those who know Shakespeare have this advantage, they know he'll soon be on duty and that he is sticking to regulations by staying sober. This is the typical naive young officer, always acting by the book to receive approval, but also wishing to be "one of the boys". And Iago is about to exploit that soft spot as well. He gets elated and all fired up:
"Everything is upside down today!
Tonight is a night of joy, thus---"
Cassio tells Iago and us that he's already light-headed after a single glass. So that's it... he can't hold his liquor! There we have a physical flaw that can be exploited! Now we know Iago and we know he may use the lieutenant's low threshold to wreck his career. So we know what he's up to upon hearing him cheer on the young officer's ethanol consumption by mentioning a good friend of theirs (LARGE HAM 3 COMING UP):
"You should drink some more.
Here's to Desdemona, OTHELLO'S WIFE!!"
Tankards clink, Cassio puts his to his lips and takes a little sip. He is now in the mood for another quencher... Well done, Iago!
We now know Cassio likes Desdemona (though merely like brother and sister). And how pleased is he with her!
"The flowers bloom in her wake when she walks along the coast."
"And yet she is so modest!", a heartbroken Roderigo, with more passionate feelings for her than the lieutenant, tries to debunk her purity in vain. Now Cassio, after having another sip, invites Iago to join in:
"Iago, sing something in praise of her!"
"No. I am only a critic."
So he knows his constraints, and he knows he's more of a critic. If he ever tried to say anything in praise of Desdemona, that wouldn't be worth to die for. If it weren't impossible to him. This is one of the few times when Iago is being honest to the core (not merely ostensibly blunt). "Io non sono che un critico." "Ich bin nur ein Kritiker." Calling a spade a spade.
OK, that was True Iago (or not?). Then he turns to Roderigo and switches to Lando Calrissian Mode once more, as the upbeat music turns a little more ominous:
"Look at this Cassio guy!"
"What do you mean?"
"Haven't you heard how passionately he speaks?
A hot-blooded young man indeed!
He's a dangerous seducer,
who stands in your way!"
"What then?"
"He will reach misfortune if he gets drunk..."
Nice done, Iago, making the lieutenant his second rival! Not only will Roderigo be pitted against "another", but against "others"! And also revealing his flaw... Then, suddenly, Iago addresses the barmaid in another large ham (this one makes four!):
"HEY, MISS, BRING SOME WINE HERE!" (for three, we assume, for there are three men in uniform around the table).
Then follows an upbeat and skipping section, similar to the leitmotif of the crossbow bolt in Disney's Robin Hood. Makes me wanna start skipping. And now Iago turns from Lando Calrissian Mode to Nietzsche Mode! In the background: Ominous, heavy, but nevertheless upbeat music. And Iago addresses his commanding officer in this half coaxing, half ominous tone:
"Come wet your whistle!
Trinke! Quaff!"
If you keep on insisting, you'll soon coax him, Iago!
In response, Cassio drinks a deeper draught and replies. There is a difference from what he says in the original and in the German version:
"This [···]
in a lovely mist
clouds my thoughts." (Boito, closer to Shakespeare)
In the German version:
"I, poor quaffer,
drink, yes, I drink..." (Kalbeck)
So, in both, the young lieutenant is aware of his place at the edge of the slippery slope. Love the character depth both operas give him, though the Kalbeck version makes this character deeper than the original libretto, by showing us the plight, of having to decide between pleasure and duty, that any freshly-baked Leutnant must have felt as well.
Little time he has for reflecting, for Iago bursts out into the upbeat and ironic refrain (whose Swedish translation from Kalbeck I have actually used for a drinking song):
"Whoever has yielded
to the dithyramb
that's daring and outré,
drink with me!" (Boito, winking surreptitiously at Nietzsche)
"Anyone can hold
one little sip!
Whoever wants to dare,
drink with me!" (Kalbeck)
Again, the Kalbeck version is sooooo ironic: "Ein kleines Schlückchen kann jeder vertragen!" That sounds as persuasive and true to life as can be. The perfect excuse for this case...
The chorus replies by repeating the refrain (in Kalbeck's version, the chorus reprise replaces the last verses with "I want to dare / to drink with thee!"), there is a call-and-response routine between Iago and the others, Iago gives off a particularly sinister evil laugh (best and most sinister male evil laugh in the history of opera!), Cassio takes a new drink at every pause in the refrain. This is an exciting and upbeat, yet ironic and sinister song, with a fine grand coda for the refrain, at the end of which Iago and Roderigo wink at each other and sing the same verse in the same call-and-response spirit:
"Another sip and he will get wasted!"
"Another sip and he will get wasted!" (Boito)
The German version is more ironic and funny:
"The finest rarity can you see here!"
"The finest rarity can you see here!" (Kalbeck)
So, they might as well (if this were no opera) be saying: "Now we've got him!"
In the next stanza, the music gets darker and deeper, mirroring the internal effects of ethanol on the lieutenant. This song will get more and more ominous for the more of the stuff that enters his bloodstream.
Iago just has got to praise intoxication, going all Nietzsche and proclaiming he can defy ironic divinity (Boito) or going all snake-oil salesman and proclaiming that liquor makes you think quicker (Kalbeck, carrying on with that irony). For this point, I take the original Italian, but for the response I pick the German translation.
So Cassio is all excited, as anyone would be with just a little more than usual under his belt. The lyrics, the expression on his face, the background music reflect his state of elation:
"Pull me into your circle!
I can't go any further!
Ah, what I find funny
is in my head!"
He drains his tankard and gets a refill.
Refrain once more. The music is now deeper and more intense than the previous time, mirroring the internal effects of ethanol on the lieutenant. This song will get more and more ominous for the more of the stuff that enters his bloodstream.
"Anyone can hold
one little sip!
Whoever wants to dare,
drink with me!"
(Evil laugh)
Response from chorus to Iago.
"I want to dare / to drink with thee!"
We can't stop Cassio. And yet he raises his tankard, he quaffs, he quaffs once more. Each time his second-in-command bursts out into that sinister evil laugh, a deep draught of liquor courses down the young officer's throat. They have pulled him into the circle by force, and he is completely unable to escape.
Now I'd like to quote a lyrical and straightforward French essay on this part of the mise en scène:
"Iago, jusqu’ici, est calme, neutre, effacé. D’une banalité inscrutable. Soudain il chante, l’air de rien, une chanson à boire. On pressent qu’une machine infernale vient de se déclencher, un crescendo dont Iago va contrôler à sa guise les étapes. Depuis que Cassio a absorbé son verre d’alcool, le compte à rebours a commencé : le toxique est en lui, il suffit maintenant d’attendre qu’il lui monte à la tête. L’empoisonnement – figure de l’inéluctable. Le Maure, lui aussi, sera empoisonné, mais d’abord par des mots.
Iago se tient entre les deux hommes, eux-mêmes de part et d’autre de la table. Le vin coule, l’échanson infernal monte sur la table pour chanter encore. 
Tiens, Iago est moins discret ! Il a ses raisons, évidemment. 
Il chante à pleins poumons, vulgaire à souhait : magnifique provocateur, accélérateur de bourrasque, paratonnerre narguant l’ivresse de Cassio, teintée de honte, de colère, d’impuissance et de mépris de caste. La symétrie du plateau, resserrée autour de la table, est maintenant comme un ressort qui s’est comprimé…
Cassio quitte la place, dans un suprême effort pour s’arracher à l’influence démoniaque de l’enseigne. Mais les jeux sont faits. Sur scène, le calme apparent est de ceux qui précèdent les tempêtes. Même absent, le lieutenant ivre pèse de tout son poids sur le plateau, tirant l’oeil du spectateur du côté cour. D’autant plus que Iago a envoyé Rodrigo, son comparse et sa dupe, rejoindre Cassio dans la coulisse… Soudain des cris, une course de cour à jardin – et la bagarre fatale éclate. Le ressort du piège s’est détendu : cette fois-ci, l’équilibre est bien rompu. Dans quelques secondes le scandale sera complet, Othello sera contraint de renvoyer son lieutenant. L’état initial était symétrique ; une fois l’état final atteint, la symétrie ne reviendra plus – la chute de Cassio est accomplie, l’objectif de Iago est atteint."
Let's return to the opera and to Iago and Roderigo having their ironic exchange:
"The finest rarity can you see here!"
"The finest rarity can you see here!"
We have come to the third stanza, of which my favourite version is the German. The music gets now even darker and even deeper than before, sounding even far more sinister, as Cassio starts to loudly interrupt Iago. The structure of the song has also been disrupted, mirroring the lieutenant's internal state as well. The background music has now gone over to typically-Iago-ominous, as the ensign philosophically states:
"Through the throat leads the only way to the heart..."
"Nur durch die Kehle geht der Weg zum Herzen." Indeed, the quote lends itself to thinking of. An über-elated Cassio replies:
"What I have in my soul: pleasures and pains..."
"Was in der Seele steht: Freuden und Schmerzen..." Rhymes, and shows us the lieutenant being far more honest than usual. Down his throat his heart has been reached, indeed. But he starts to waver, and an ostensibly concerned Iago asks him:
"Little one, why are you shaking?"
"THAT IS SO OBVIOUS!", Cassio shouts over and over again, draining the pitcher at one fell swoop and finally falling on the ground. Somewhat ironic and memetic (Large Ham number five!): DAS IST JA KLAR! DAS IST JA KLAR! DAS IST JA KLAR, DAS IST JA KLAR, DAS IST JA KLAR!
He sounds so excited, so annoying, so sympathetic... Poor lieutenant! Then, he laughs, and everyone else laughs... and now his speech is slurred and incoherent.
So far, Iago has succeeded, and Cassio is completely wasted. Which he tells Roderigo:
"He is completely wasted. Now you must provoke him ASAP.
He'll break into a fit of rage... he'll attack you... and a scandal is ready!"
"For Satan's sake, I will!"
Now, Cassio has drained another tankard... Lord of Light!... Now his speech is slurred and incoherent:
"I dwink... I, poor quaffa, dwink wunce mooa..."
The lieutenant is reeling, staggering, and he even trips and falls on the ground, which makes everyone laugh as loud as they can, starting with Iago, still the nihilistic infernal cupbearer, himself.
Then, everyone on stage is elated and cheering on Cassio:
"Trinke, trinke, trinke mit mir!", loudly in chorus, so down goes another tankard as quickly as he can, but not before the young officer has raised it above his lips and proposed a toast to those who have plied him. Then, he drains the tankard as fast as he can... so he's got one more under his belt and is completely dead drunk, though, fortunately, not unconscious.
En fait, c'est un peu comme la scène entre Iago et Cassio. Iago tend un piège à Cassio : il lui propose de boire. Cassio sait qu'il ferait mieux de s'abstenir, mais il se laisse tenter. Et une fois le poison absorbé, Iago et le spectateur savent que ce n'est plus qu'une question de temps... Alors, est-ce que Cassio était libre de refuser ? Quand il entre en scène, Shakespeare, qui laisse très peu de choses au hasard dans ce genre de pièces, lui fait dire qu'il a déjà bu un verre. Donc, il est déjà sous l'emprise quand Iago entreprend de l'enivrer... Comme si tout avait déjà commencé, ou comme si tout commencement visible devait être précédé d'un autre commencement invisible... Alors, est-ce que Cassio est libre, est-ce qu'il est aliéné ? Comment passe-t-on du pôle de la vertu à ses antipodes, le pôle du vice ? Ou encore, comme se le demande Cassio après coup, quel plaisir obscur peut-on prendre à devenir une bête ? L'alcool est sa "faiblesse", comme Shakespeare le lui fait dire; celle d'Othello est certainement plus difficile à nommer, mais elle est bien là. Simplement, cette "faiblesse" n'est pas à elle toute seule une contrainte suffisante, qui aurait pour effet de nous jeter hors de nous-mêmes, dans l'aliénation. Elle est plutôt, cette faiblesse, ce par quoi l'aliénation s'ouvre un chemin. Cela commence comme une petite fêlure, juste un petit verre ou un petit soupçon, trois fois rien, trois mots jetés au passage, et chemin faisant, le long de cette pente, on va jusqu'à l'ivresse ou jusqu'à l'obsession, puis jusqu'au meurtre. Personne ne peut prédire que ça ira toujours jusque-là. Mais une fois que c'est allé jusqu'au bout, rétrospectivement, on s'aperçoit que c'est pourtant bien par là que c'est passé, par ce chemin. Et il y a bien quelque part un moment où ça doit avoir basculé, où on ne peut plus se dégager : la drogue a fait son effet, les mots ne se laissent plus oublier, on est passé de l'altération à l'aliénation... On est possédé. Il y a fatalité, mais c'est une fatalité qui est faite de "je-ne-sais-quoi" et de "presque-rien"... Quand il s'agit de décrire ou de rendre sensibles ces transitions fines, Shakespeare est un maître.
However, he will have questions to answer when another officer appears...

The Rampage
Then, everyone on stage is elated and cheering on Cassio:
"Trinke, trinke, trinke mit mir!", loudly in chorus, so down goes another tankard as quickly as he can, but not before the young officer has raised it above his lips and proposed a toast to those who have plied him. Then, he drains the tankard as fast as he can... so he's got one more under his belt and is completely dead drunk, though, fortunately, not unconscious.
However, he will have questions to answer when another officer appears...
"Lieutenant, you ought to attend to your duty on the bastions."
Uh-uh!
At these words, Cassio attempts to salute but facepalms instead, and then he staggers towards the other officer:
"Ov wee go!!!"
Uh-uh!
I leave it to you to imagine the other officer's reaction.
"What do I see?"
Time for Iago to give the (false but nevertheless convincing) explanation:
"Every night, Cassio falls asleep by doing this" (Boito)
But I prefer Iago's explanation in the Kalbeck version. It sounds even more convincing:
"In this fashion, Cassio gets himself liquid courage when on duty."
The other officer is obviously concerned:
"Othello should know this. I will inform him of this."
"We shood inshpect de bashtionsh...", the young lieutenant's slurred reply is heard.
And then, Roderigo, Iago's second-in-command, lets go of an ironic laugh, that finds its echo among the other folks at the table. Now Cassio is feeling annoyed and asks:
"Hoosh laffing?"
Roderigo, half chuckling, replies:
"I'm laughing at a drunk!" (Boito)
or
"Can you deny it?" (Kalbeck)
At these words, the lieutenant is incensed:
"Wadsh out, I will teesh you... you bashtard!" He just can't control himself, and thus, he is not himself. You can feel his rage and the irrationality in it.
The henchman replies, in an equally fiery tone:
"You drunken scoundrel!"
"You twaiter! Now youa doom foweva!" The lieutenant, bereft of self-control, quickly draws steel and points at his opponent with the rapier.
The officer who have called for Cassio intervenes and tries to make peace while keeping calm and carrying on, in stark contrast to the two angry young men. This worthy officer coolly intervenes:
"What will you two begin?
Stop it, I pray!"
"I'll shplid yur shkull if you twy to shtop me!"
The sober officer then calls a spade a spade. Though this fellow is clever and calm, he has made a fatal mistake:
"Words of a drunk..."
ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE.
And the music is now full of frenzy, to match the lieutenant's own frenzy. RUN!
"I? DWUNK???" Now Cassio is berserk and on a rampage, attacking everyone in the courtyard. The women flee into their quarters for safety, while Roderigo runs off to the bell tower to sound the most important chime, the "Enemies Approaching" bell, and the men, led by Iago himself, try to stop the rampaging lieutenant, who is bereft of reason, completely out of control, swishing his rapier everywhere, breaking tables, chairs, tearing at people's clothing... and even dealing Iago a nice slash wound. The bleeding ensign finally manages to restrain his commanding officer, who is trying all he can to break free. Iago, now pale and desperate, is heard amidst the chaos more proper of a battlefield than of a decent celebration, the cries for help, the peal of the storming bells... and, if you can hear Iago, you can feel that he can hold no more:
"Will no one here prevent this wild rampage?
Call for help! Satan has entered into him!"
Nice wording, Iago! Your intoxicated lieutenant is actually possessed! And you're behind such an intoxication, both poisoning and possession! What will happen when he regains control of himself? You know that your rival will fall from grace...
More men in breastplates aid Iago in reining Cassio in, the women cheer at their husbands, sons, brothers, fiancés... from the windows, the storming bell is still pealing wildly...
And then, everything is silent and eerie as Othello enters the courtyard. Iago tries to stanch the blood from his wounds, Cassio falls unconscious in the ensign's arms, dropping the sword he has swished so recklessly, as the general wonders what on Earth has happened with another of his legendary Large Hams:
"DOWN WITH THE SWORDS!"

"DOWN WITH THE SWORDS!"
The music is now as ominous as Othello's stern tone of voice.
"What on Earth is going on? Are we infidels...?
My worthy Iago, for your old love's and loyalty's sake...
Speak!"
Now the general will receive a nice explanation. And you will see how blindly he trusts his old brother in arms:
"I do not know...
They were at first good friends,
merry and cheerful... but, suddenly,
they draw their swords,
and storm towards each other...
I would have rather lost both the legs that brought me here!"
So Iago was not involved at all in the incident. What about the unconscious lieutenant, who reeks like a drunkard and whose sword is drenched in blood? Is he really...? Othello needs to ask the young officer himself:
"Cassio... How did you ever forget your worth?"
The lieutenant is now coming to, sobering up, in a cold sweat. Now his system, having got rid of all that ethanol, is finally free once more. He feels that his head is going to burst, and his memories of the rampage are vague, nearly non-existent. Nevertheless, he has to tell his commanding officer what he knows about the incident:
"Mercy... Forgive me... I can't say anything..."
And, to crown it all, Iago has got these slash wounds. Now Othello can't restrain his rage either:
"Wounded...? Good Heavens!
My blood is boiling over!
Here comes the angel who changes our rage
into mild gentleness!"
The angel is, effectively, on the threshold, her golden hair cascading on her lilywhite night shift, unable to speak of the scene that unfolds before her.
"How... Desdemona, the lovely one,
startled, awakened from her sweet dreams?"
The young lady can't believe her eyes. The stars are slowly fading one by one. Her spouse feels that he has been offended by all that he sees: his lady shocked and pale as her shift, his right hand wounded and looking concerned, that young officer in such a lamentable state. And he has no other choice. Turning towards the lieutenant, with a stern yet affectionate expression, he tells the young officer the last thing that Cassio would like to hear:
"Cassio, you are no longer a lieutenant."
Words that cut like swords. An emotional shock that he is unable to cope with, and even more in that state. Now he is much more than confused. What had he done to stain his blade, frighten his dear Desdemona, anger his lord, and lose his rank? Add the ensuing shock to his internal state of recovery... and we've got the fact that he is completely ruined within. Aside from socially dead. How should he return to be the one he once was?
This predicament, this identity crisis, is the catalyst for the whole storm of passion to come:
"Cassio, for example, owes strict loyalty (honest love and duty) to his superior Othello who has entrusted him with the watch on a fortress island only half civilized. The aristocratic officer who already knows that his weakness is strong drink but who wants to be popular with the common soldiers succumbs to Iago’s blandishment that he will be more accepted by “the boys” if he drinks with them. Then, when intoxicated, Cassio becomes increasingly super-sensitive, testy and out of control. Then, anguished by the loss of his position and reputation instead of patiently awaiting his return to Othello’s trust and favor, he begs, cajoles and pressures Desdemona herself to pressure Othello quickly to restore him to his rank. He contributes to the tragedy, to the madness of Othello and the murder of Desdemona just because self service rises above the ideal of the devoted service."
We Swedes have a nice proverb: "One person's bread is another's death", and thus we see Cassio a devastated ensign and Iago a proud lieutenant. The tables have turned 180 degrees.
And this reversal gives the scheme a nice foundation. Not only has Iago earned more trust of his general, he also has discredited his rival completely.
"We bring Iago to the surgeon!", Othello commands. The wounds hurt no longer, and the former ensign is now sure that, once the first move has been successful, he will doubtlessly win the rest of the game.
Now, the general is left on his own with his lady. The whole incident is now history: some have gone to their posts, others into their quarters, and Othello and Desdemona are left to contemplate the night sky and have some romantic intimacy, tête-à-tête. They will spend the whole next scene cooing together.

Midnight Love
The starry night sky, a pair of young lovers watching tête-à-tête from a balcony... this completely reminds me of the loveliest of the queen's maids-of-honour and her lover:
From the palace, one heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. "How wonderful the stars are," he said to her, "and how wonderful is the power of love!"
Well, this is that scene EXPANDED AND UNCUT, starring one of my absolute Shakespeare OTPs.


2. Act 2
Do Not Despair

Iago's Creed

Coaxing


2 comentarios:

  1. Uttam doesn't know who Lando Calrissian is, so...
    UTTAM: Would you mind telling me sth of Lando Calrissian?
    MOI:
    OK
    Star Wars chara
    similar to Theon Greyjoy, Peter Pettigrew and Judas Iscariot in archetype
    but to Euron Greyjoy in affability, and in "wealth and taste".
    Long story short: dashing traitor.

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  2. My translation of the French essay:
    Iago, until here, is calm, neutral, cool. Inscrutably banal. Suddenly, as if anything, he starts to sing a drinking song. You think that he has declenched a crescendo which he will control stage by stage. After Cassio has absorbed his drink of alcohol, the countdown has started: the poison is inside him, we only have to wait for it to get to his head. Poisoning... an image of the unavoidable. The Moor will be poisoned as well, but with words.
    Iago stands between both men, sitting across the table...
    The infernal cupbearer gets on the table to sing once more. Iago is less discrete! He obviously has a reason. He sings at the top of his lungs, vulgar as he can be: magnificent provoker, storm accelerator, denying Cassio's intoxication, tainted with shame, with rage, with powerlessness, and with classist despisal. Cassio leaves the place, making a great effort to tear himself away from the ensign's demonic influence.
    But the cards are already played. On stage, the calm is the apparent one which precedes the storm. The drunken lieutenant bears the whole weight of the stage, even when he's absent. Suddenly, they're running about the garden... the fatal quarrel breaks out. The trap has clicked. This time, balance is no more. Within a few seconds, the scandal will be complete. Othello will be forced to reject his lieutenant. Symmetry will never return. Cassio's downfall is a fact, Iago has reached his goal.

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