Rinaldo di Capua

We don’t know much about the life of the Neapoli­tan com­poser Rinal­do di Capua, who was born some­where around 1710 and died, in pover­ty and obscu­rity, in 1780. But, briefly, he achieved some fame as a com­poser of opera, and made one of the key inno­va­tions in the trans­for­ma­tion of the sym­phony from a mere suite of vignettes, which could be shuf­fled or sub­sti­tuted like a deck of cards, to its lat­er form as a coher­ent whole, the “sym­pho­ny-sonata” form that makes, say, a Beethoven sym­phony appear as nar­ra­tive as a play, and saw it’s ulti­mate degree of log­i­cal devel­op­ment in Sibelius’ Sev­enth. Accord­ing to the diary of Charles Bur­ney, a musi­cian trav­el­ing in Italy in 1770, di Capua had the same ten­dency to solid­ify the opera buf­fa into some­thing more resem­bling our idea of a dra­matic opera. Bur­ney relates that, after a peri­od of celebri­ty for many operas (all but one of which are lost), he found him “liv­ing, or rather starv­ing in 1770 at Rome, the chief scene of his for­mer glo­ry! This com­poser, whose pro­duc­tions were, dur­ing many years, the delight of all Europe, was reduced at Rome to the utmost indi­gence. Dio­genes the Cyn­ic was nev­er more mean­ly clad through choice, than Rinal­do through neces­sity: a patched coat, and stock­ings that want­ed to be patched or darned.” Bur­ney reports that the old man was par­tic­u­larly bit­ter because he had hoped to pro­vide for his old age by pub­lish­ing his col­lected works, only to dis­cover that his son had burned all his man­u­s­cipts! Hence, we know lit­tle about a fair­ly impor­tant com­poser of the Roco­co peri­od. Toron­to Pub­lic Library’s huge col­lec­tion con­tains noth­ing by him, though the Uni­ver­sity of Toronto’s Thomas Fish­er Rare Book Library [one of the lit­tle-known trea­sures of the city, by the way], has a libret­to of one of his operas, and else­where the Uni­ver­sity has some scraps of sheet music. But one, ran­dom exam­ple of his operas sur­vives, appar­ently a minor ear­ly work. It is La Zin­gara, an Inter­mezo in Two Parts. This was lat­er reworked into some­thing more uni­fied opera, but what sur­vives is in the orig­i­nal opera buf­fa form. It was per­formed by the Mainz Cham­ber Orches­tra, with Annelies Moke­witz (sopra­no), Rodol­fo Malacarne (tenor) and Laerte Malaguti (bass). The per­for­mance exists on a Turn­about record­ing which I obtained in a yard sale in my neigh­bor­hood, where yard sales can turn up any­thing. If this one, minor work is any hint, di Capua was a tal­ented man. The melodies are fine, the ritor­nel­los are dra­mat­i­cally effec­tive. I don’t urge any­one to run out and lis­ten, because their chances of find­ing the piece are remote.

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