Opera I Lombardi alla prima crociata Program Notes, Sheet Music and Recordings

Program Notes & Analysis

The Archbishop's Complaint

In the weeks leading up to the 1843 premiere of I Lombardi at La Scala, a dangerous rumor reached the Archbishop of Milan. He was told Verdi’s new opera would feature a sacred baptism on stage, a shocking breach of theatrical and religious decorum. The Archbishop was scandalized and filed a formal complaint with the chief of police, demanding that the scene be cut. The chief, Luigi Vismara, summoned Verdi. But Vismara was a practical man and a great supporter of the theater. He told the young composer, This is a serious matter... But don’t you worry. We'll tell the Archbishop you've made the changes, but don't change a single note. Verdi, who had already fought censors over Nabucco, gladly complied. On opening night, the famous trio and Giselda’s prayer (which were the "baptism") were performed as written. The opera was a massive success, the Archbishop's fears proved unfounded, and Verdi had won another battle for theatrical freedom.

The Impossible Task: Following Nabucco

The pressure on Verdi after Nabucco was immense. Nabucco had not just been a success; it had been a national event, a phenomenon that instantly made Verdi the most important new voice in Italian music. For his follow-up, he and his Nabucco librettist, Temistocle Solera, chose to double down on the formula. They selected another grand, historical-religious epic, Tommaso Grossi’s poem I Lombardi alla prima crociata. They knew the Milanese audience was hungry for epic scale, grand choral statements, and patriotic fire. I Lombardi was designed to be Nabucco's bigger, more spectacular sibling, an opera that replaced the contained tragedy of the Hebrews with the sprawling, chaotic, and glorious adventure of the First Crusade.

Temistocle Solera's Grandiose, Patriotic Canvas

Temistocle Solera was a poet of the grand gesture. He was not interested in psychological nuance or tight, logical plots. He built librettos like massive, medieval frescoes, full of bold colors, dramatic crowds, and stark, primal emotions. I Lombardi is perhaps the ultimate Solera libretto. The plot is famously, almost comically, sprawling. It leaps from a fratricidal feud in Milan, to a hermit’s cave, to a harem in Antioch, to the deserts outside Jerusalem. Characters disappear for entire acts, and coincidence governs every turn. But this was exactly what Verdi wanted. The chaotic, episodic structure gave him a broad canvas on which to paint with his orchestra, depicting different worlds, cultures, and landscapes.

A "Choral Opera" and Its Great Anthem

Like Nabucco, I Lombardi is, at its heart, a choral opera. The chorus is not a mere backdrop; it is a central character, representing the Lombards, the Muslim soldiers, the pilgrims, and the holy crusaders. Verdi, knowing the audience was hoping for a successor to Va, pensiero, delivered one in the fourth act. The crusaders are lost and dying of thirst in the desert. They sing the magnificent prayer O Signore, dal tetto natio (O Lord, from our native roofs). This chorus, with its long, elegiac, unison melody, is a direct echo of Va, pensiero—another collective lament for a lost homeland. The Milanese audience, living under Austrian rule, immediately understood its political subtext. It became the opera's breakaway hit and cemented Verdi's reputation as the musical voice of the Risorgimento.

The Tinta: A World of Extremes

The tinta, or unique dramatic color, of I Lombardi is one of stark, almost violent contrast. Verdi masterfully creates distinct musical sound worlds for the opera's warring factions. The music for the Lombards is brassy, martial, and rhythmically forceful, full of grand, block-like choral harmonies. In contrast, the world of the harem in Antioch is painted with a different orchestral palette. Verdi uses "exotic" instrumentation—flutes, harps, and delicate percussion—to create a sense of the "other". Then there is the third, sacred world of the hermits and pilgrims, represented by solemn, organ-like sonorities. The opera's drama comes from the collision of these three distinct musical worlds.

Pagano: The Genesis of the Verdi Bass-Baritone

The most compelling character in I Lombardi, by far, is Pagano. He is the opera's true protagonist and the clear forerunner to Verdi’s great, tormented baritones. (Though written for a bass, the role's dramatic function is that of the "Verdi baritone".) Pagano is a character of Shakespearean extremes. In Act I, he is a pure villain, consumed by a jealous rage that leads him to attempt murder and, by accident, to kill his own father. His music is dark, jagged, and violent. He then vanishes, only to reappear as a holy hermit, his music transformed into a vehicle of profound, world-weary wisdom. This journey from cursed sinner to repentant saint, from patricide to holy man, is a profound psychological arc that Verdi would explore again in characters like Rigoletto and Simon Boccanegra.

Giselda: The Soprano of Protest

Giselda is one of the most fascinating and revolutionary heroines in all of early Verdi. In an opera ostensibly celebrating a holy war, Giselda is the lone voice of peace and protest. After the crusaders (led by her own father) sack Antioch and slaughter the "infidels," she does not join the victory chorus. Instead, she steps forward and delivers a stunning, furious denunciation of her father's violence, declaring his is not the will of God. This scene, where the "angelic" soprano becomes a figure of righteous, anti-war rage, is shockingly modern. Her music, which begins in the pure bel canto tradition of Bellini, becomes fiery and declamatory, a true dramatic soprano in the making.

Oronte: The Tragic "Other"

Equally revolutionary for its time is the opera's treatment of Oronte, the Muslim prince and Giselda’s lover. Verdi and Solera portray him not as a barbarian, but as a noble, lyrical, and tragic hero. He is the opera's romantic tenor, and Verdi gives him some of the most beautiful music in the score, including the exquisite aria La mia letizia infondere. His love for Giselda is presented as pure and true, a stark contrast to the brutal, feuding world of the Lombards. His sympathetic portrayal is a testament to the opera's surprising humanism, which transcends the "clash of civilizations" narrative.

A Controversial Moment of Ecstasy: The Trio

The opera’s most innovative and famous musical number is the trio in Act III, Qual voluttà trascorrere. Oronte is dying. Giselda is weeping over him. The hermit (Pagano) arrives. In a moment of sublime, controversial theater, Pagano baptizes the dying Oronte. As he does, the music transforms. An offstage celestial chorus, accompanied by a solo violin, begins to play. The violin, a "heavenly" voice, was a radical choice, almost unheard of in Italian opera. The three characters, in a state of religious ecstasy, sing a trio of transcendent beauty as Oronte dies and Giselda sees a vision of him in heaven. This scene, with its daring combination of sacred ritual, a concert-like violin solo, and theatrical rapture, was what had the Archbishop so worried, and what left the audience breathless.

A Sprawling, Episodic Drama

I Lombardi is not a tidy opera. Its dramaturgy is messy, episodic, and often illogical, much like its source poem. It has more in common with a sprawling medieval tapestry or a grand historical pageant than a well-made play. This "flaw" is also its greatest strength. It allowed Verdi to break free from the tight, formal conventions of Rossini or Donizetti. The opera’s "epic" feel is a direct result of its willingness to jump in time and space, to present a series of powerful, self-contained dramatic and musical tableaux rather than a single, linear plot.

The Parisian Makeover: Jérusalem

The opera’s sprawling nature was, however, a problem for the exacting standards of the Paris Opéra. In 1847, Verdi was commissioned to rework I Lombardi for a French audience. The result was Jérusalem, a complete and fascinating overhaul. The libretto was tightened, the family feud was simplified, and the "Lombards" became "French" (of course). Verdi wrote a significant amount of new music, including a mandatory (and excellent) ballet, and refashioned the entire work to fit the grand opera style perfected by Giacomo Meyerbeer. Jérusalem is a more polished, coherent, and "professional" opera, but it perhaps loses some of the raw, patriotic, and chaotic fire that made I Lombardi such a sensation in Milan. Comparing the two is a fascinating study in Verdi's artistic development.

Opera Story

Act I: The Revenge In Milan, outside the Church of Sant'Ambrogio, a crowd has gathered to celebrate the reconciliation of two brothers, Arvino and Pagano. Years earlier, both had loved a woman named Viclinda. She chose Arvino, and Pagano, in a jealous rage, attacked his brother and was exiled. Now, Pagano has returned, seemingly penitent. Arvino, Viclinda (now his wife), and their daughter Giselda publicly embrace him. But Pagano is not cured. He secretly plots with Pirro, Arvino’s squire, to murder Arvino and abduct Viclinda that very night.

Inside Arvino's palace, Giselda is worried. Pagano and his men storm the palace and set it on fire. Pagano emerges, dragging Viclinda, and boasting that he has killed Arvino. At that moment, Arvino himself appears. Pagano is horrified. He rushes into the burning building and discovers he has, by mistake, murdered his own father, Lord Folco. The crowd calls for his death, but Giselda pleads for mercy. Pagano is sentenced to permanent exile.

Act II: The Man of the Cave The act opens in Antioch, in the palace of the tyrant, Acciano. His son, Oronte, has fallen in love with a Lombard captive, Giselda. Oronte’s mother, Sofia (secretly a Christian), hopes Giselda will convert her son.

Nearby, in a desert cave, lives a holy hermit. A man, Pirro, approaches him. Pirro has left the crusaders and now serves Acciano, guarding the gates of Antioch. Tormented by guilt, he begs the hermit for absolution. The hermit (who is the penitent Pagano) grants it, on the condition that Pirro betray the city and open the gates to the crusading Lombards. Soon after, Arvino (now the leader of the crusade) arrives to ask the "holy man" for his help in freeing his captive daughter. Pagano, unrecognized, agrees to help.

The crusaders storm Antioch. In the palace harem, Giselda prays for peace. She is horrified when Arvino and Pagano burst in, announcing that both Acciano and Oronte have been killed. Giselda, seeing her father covered in blood, furiously denounces him, declaring his is not a "holy war" but a savage slaughter. Arvino, believing she has gone mad, is about to strike her, but Pagano intervenes.

Act III: The Conversion In the Valley of Jehoshaphat, Giselda has fled the crusader camp. She is overjoyed when Oronte appears; he was only wounded, not killed. They declare their love and decide to flee together, renouncing their warring peoples. However, Oronte's wounds reopen, and he collapses. Pagano arrives. As Oronte is dying, he expresses his wish to convert. Pagano baptizes Oronte with water from the River Jordan. As Oronte dies in Giselda’s arms, the three sing a transcendent trio (Qual voluttà trascorrere), and Giselda has a vision of Oronte in heaven.

Act IV: The Holy Sepulchre The crusaders are in the desert outside Jerusalem, dying of thirst. Giselda, asleep, has another vision of Oronte. He tells her that God has heard the Lombards' prayers and that they will find water at the fountain of Siloam. She awakens and tells the crusaders, who are miraculously revived by the discovery of water. They prepare for their final assault on Jerusalem.

In Arvino’s tent, Pagano is brought in, mortally wounded from the battle. He finally reveals his true identity to his brother. He confesses to his patricide and begs for forgiveness. Arvino, weeping, embraces him. Pagano asks to be taken to a hilltop where he can see the Holy City one last time. As he is led out, the crusaders are victorious and the banner of the cross is raised over Jerusalem. Pagano, seeing this, asks for God's forgiveness and dies.