La Boheme

Luigi Illica, Giuseppe Giacosa

Description

Initially based on Scènes de la vie de bohème (1851), La bohème follows the trials and tribulations of young artists struggling to make ends meet. Despite their circumstance, they celebrate small wins, while seeking love and opportunity.

La bohème is an Italian opera that centers a group of up-and-coming artists. This includes Rodolfo, a poet, Mimì, a seamstress, Marcello, a painter and Musetta, a singer. Together, they attempt to earn a living from their respective crafts. Rodolfo and Marcello struggle to maintain their relationships with Mimì and Musetta, who are likely to attract wealthier suitors. In the midst of romance troubles and a professional drought, Mimì’s health becomes a cause for concern.

La bohème is a captivating story about friendship, love and survival. Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica’s opera offers a compelling narrative with memorable moments. It’s a romantic tale that highlights hope in the face of tragedy.

With an eye-catching new cover, and professionally typeset manuscript, this edition of La bohème is both modern and readable.

Sujets

• Styles
• Genres
• 19th century
• Rodolfo
• Mimi
• Paris
• Rodolphe
• Music
• Opera

Informations

• Publié par: Mint Editions
• Date de parution: 09 mars 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781513278704
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

La bohème
Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica
 

La bohème was first performed in 1896.
This edition published by Mint Editions 2020.
ISBN 9781513278247 | E-ISBN 9781513278704
Published by Mint Editions®
minteditionbooks.com
Publishing Director: Jennifer Newens
Design & Production: Rachel Lopez Metzger
Project Manager: Micaela Clark
Translated by W. Grist and P. Pinkerton
Typesetting: Westchester Publishing Services
 

C ONTENTS A CT I: I N THE A TTIC A CT II: I N THE L ATIN Q UARTER A CT III A CT IV: I N THE A TTIC
 

C HARACTERS
R UDOLPH (a poet)
Tenor
S CHAUNARD (a musician)
Baritone
B ENOIT (a landlord)
Bass
M IMI
Soprano
P ARPIGNOL
Tenor
M ARCEL (a painter)
Baritone
C OLLINE (a philosopher)
Bass
A LCINDORO (a councilor of state)
Bass
M USETTA
Soprano
C USTOM - H OUSE S ERGEANT
Bass
Students, Work Girls, Citizens, Shopkeepers, Street Vendors, Soldiers, Restaurant Waiters, Boys, Girls, etc.
T IME A BOUT 1830—I N P ARIS
 

“… Mimi was a charming girl specially apt to appeal to Rudolph, the poet and dreamer. Aged twenty-two, she was slight and graceful. Her face reminded one of some sketch of high-born beauty; its features had marvellous refinement.
“The hot, impetuous blood of youth coursed through her veins, giving a rosy hue to her clear complexion that had the white velvety bloom of the camellia.
“This frail beauty allured Rudolph. But what wholly served to enchant him were Mimi’s tiny hands, that, despite her household duties, she contrived to keep whiter even than the Goddess of Ease.”
 

Act I
I N THE A TTIC
Spacious window, from which one sees an expanse of snow-clad roofs. On left, a fireplace, a table, small cupboard, a little book-case, four chairs, a picture easel, a bed, a few books, many packs of cards, two candlesticks. Door in the middle, another on left.
Curtain rises quickly
R UDOLPH AND M ARCEL: R UDOLPH looks pensively out of the window. M ARCEL works at his painting, “The Passage of the Red Sea,” with hands nipped with cold, and warms them by blowing on them from time to time, often changing position on account of the frost.
M AR.: ( seated, continuing to paint ) This Red Sea passage feels as damp and chill to me As if adown my back a stream were flowing.
( Goes a little way back from the easel to look at the picture )
But in revenge a Pharaoh will I drown.
( Turning to his work )
And you? ( to R UDOLPH )
R UD.: ( pointing to the tireless stove )
Lazily rising, see how the smoke
From thousands of chimneys floats upward!
And yet that stove of ours
No fuel seems to need, the idle rascal,
Content to live in ease, just like a lord!
M AR.: ’Tis now a good, long while since we paid his lawful wages.
R UD.: Of what use are the forests all white under the snow?
M AR.: Now Rudolph, let me tell you
A fact that overcomes me,
I’m simply frozen!
R UD.: ( approaching M ARCEL )
And I, Marcel, to be quite candid,
I’ve no faith in the sweat of my brow.
M AR.: All my fingers are frozen
Just as if they’d been touching that iceberg,
Touching that block of marble, the heart of false Musetta.
( Heaves a long sigh, laying aside his palette and brushes, and ceases painting )
R UD.: Ah! love’s a stove consuming a deal of fuel!
M AR.: Too quickly.
R UD.: Where the man does the burning.
M AR.: And the woman the lighting.
R UD.: While the one turns to ashes.
M AR.: So the other stands and watches.
R UD.: Meanwhile, in here we’re frozen.
M AR.: And we’re dying of hunger.
R UD.: A fire must be lighted.
M AR.: ( seizing a chair and about to break it up )
I have it,
This crazy chair shall save us!
( R UDOLPH energetically resists M ARCEL’S project )
R UD.: ( joyous at an idea that has seized him )
Eureka!
( Runs to the table and from below it lifts a bulky manuscript )
M AR.: You’ve found it?
R UD.: Yes. When genius is roused ideas come fast in flashes.
M AR.: ( pointing to his picture ) Let’s burn up the “Red Sea.”
R UD.: No: think what a stench ’twould occasion!
But my drama, my beautiful drama shall give us warmth.
M AR.: ( with comic terror )
Intend you to read it?
Twill chill us!
R UD.: No. The paper in flame shall be burning,
The soul to its heaven returning. ( with tragic emphasis )
Great loss! but the world yet must bear it,
When Rome is in peril!
M AR.: Great soul!
R UD.: ( giving M ARCEL a portion of the Ms. )
Here, take the first act.
M AR.: Well?
R UD.: Tear it.
M AR.: And light it.
( R UDOLPH strikes a flint on steel, lights a candle, and goes to the stove with M ARCEL ; together they set fire to a part of the M S . thrown into the fireplace; then both draw up their chairs and sit down, delightedly warming themselves )
R UD.: How joyous the rays!
M AR.: How cheerful the blaze!
( The door at the back opens violently, and C OLLINE enters frozen and nipped up, stamping his feet, and throwing angrily on the table a bundle of books tied up in a handkerchief)
C OL.: Surely miracles apocalyptic are dawning!
For Christmas eve they honor by allowing no pawning!
( Checks himself, seeing a fire in the stove )
See I a fire here?
R UD.: ( to C OLLINE ) Gently, it is my drama.
C OL.: In blazes!
I find it very sparkling.
R UD.: Brilliant! ( the fire languishes )
C OL.: Too short its phrases.
R UD.: Brevity’s deemed a treasure.
C OL.: ( taking the chair from R UDOLPH )
Your chair pray give me, author.
M AR.: These foolish entr’actes merely make us shiver. Quickly!
R UD.: ( taking another portion of the M S . ) Here is the next act.
M AR.: ( to C OLLINE ) Hush! not a whisper.
( R UDOLPH tears up the M S . and throws it into the fireplace; the flames revive. C OLLINE moves his chair nearer and warms his hands. R UDOLPH is standing near the two with the rest of the M S . )
C OL.: How deep the thought is!
M AR.: Color how true!
R UD.: In that blue smoke my drama is dying
Full of its love-scenes ardent and new.
C OL.: A leaf see crackle!
M AR.: Those were all the kisses.
R UD.: ( throwing the remaining M S . on the fire )
Three acts at once I desire to hear.
C OL.: Only the daring can dream such visions.
R UD. , M AR . AND C OL.: Dreams that in flame soon disappear.
( Applaud enthusiastically; the flame diminishes )
M AR.: Ye gods! see the leaves well-nigh perished.
C OL.: How vain is the drama we cherished.
M AR.: They crackle! they curl up! they die!
M AR. AND C OL.: The author—down with him, we cry.
( From the middle door two boys enter, carrying provisions and fuel; the three friends turn, and with a surprised cry, seize the provisions and place them on the table. C OLLINE carries the wood to the fireplace )
R UD.: Fuel!
M AR.: Wine, too!
C OL.: Cigars!
R UD.: Fuel!
M AR.: Bordeaux!
R UD ., M AR . AND C OL.: The abundance of a feast day We are destined yet to know.
( Exeunt the two boys )
( Enter S CHAUNARD )
S CH.: ( triumphantly throwing some coins on the ground)
Such wealth in the balance
Outweighs the Bank of France.
C OL.: ( assisting R UDOLPH and M ARCEL to pick up the coins )
Then, take them—then, take them.
M AR.: ( incredulously ) Tin medals? Inspect them.
S CH.: ( showing one to M ARCEL )
You’re deaf then, or blear-eyed?
What face do they show?
R UD.: ( bowing )
King Louis Philippe: to my monarch I bow.
R UD ., M AR ., S CH . AND C OL.: Shall King Louis Philippe at our feet thus lie low?
( S CHAUNARD will go on recounting his good luck, but the others continue to arrange everything on the table )
S CH.: Now I’ll explain.
This gold has—or rather silver—
Has its own noble story.
M AR.: First the stove to replenish.
C OL.: So much cold has he suffered,
S CH.: ’Twas an Englishman, then—
Lord, or mi-lord, as may be—
Desired a musician.
M AR.: ( throwing C OLLINE’S books from the table )
Off! Let us furnish the table.
S CH.: I flew to him.
R UD.: Where is the food?
C OL.: There.
M AR.: Here.
S CH.: I pay my homage.
Accepted, I enquire—
C OL.: ( preparing the viands on the table while R UDOLPH lights the other candle )
Here’s cold roast beef.
M AR.: And savory patty.
S CH.: When shall we start the lessons?
When I seek him, in answer to my question,
“When shall we start the lessons?”
He tells me “Now—at once.
Just look there,”
Showing a parrot on the first floor, hung, then continues:
“You must play until that bird has ceased to live.”
Thus it befell:
Three days I play and yell.
R UD.: Brilliantly lightens the room into splendor.
M AR.: Here are the candles.
C OL.: What lovely pastry!
S CH.: Then on the servant girl Try all the charms wherewith I’m laden;
I fascinate the maiden.
M AR.: With no tablecloth eat we—
R UD.: ( taking a paper from his pocket ) An idea!
C OL. AND M AR.: The Constitutional.
R UD.: ( unfolding the paper )
Excellent paper!
One eats a meal and swallows news at the same time!
S CH.: With parsley I approach the bird,
His beak Lorito opens;
Lorito’s wings outspread,
Lorito opens his beak,
A little piece of parsley gulps—
As Socrates, is dead!
( S