- Performer Name:
- Sestini; Sgricci; Corilla; Fantastici
- Performance Venue:
- Rome
- Performance Date:
- Author:
- Jameson, Anna
- Date Written:
- Language:
- English
- Publication Title:
- Diary of an Ennuyée
- Article Title:
- Page Numbers:
- 310-19
- Additional Info:
- Publisher:
- Colburn
- Place of Publication:
- London
- Date Published:
- 1826
Text:
[310] Apropos to poets! — Lady C** has just sent us tickets for Sestini's Accademia to-morrow night. So far from the race of Improvvisatori being extinct, or living only in the pages of Corinne, or in the memory of the Fantastici, and the Bandinelli, the Gianis and the Corillas of other days, — there is scarcely a small town in Italy, as I am informed, without its Improvvisatore; and I know several individuals in the higher classes of society, both here, and at Florence more particularly, who are re- [311] markable for possessing this extraordinary talent — though, of course, it is only exercised for the gratification of a private circle. Of those who make a public exhibition of their powers, Sgricci and Sestini are the most celebrated — and of these Sgricci ranks first. I never heard him; but Signior Incoronati who knows him well, described to me his talents and powers as almost supernatural. A wonderful display of his art was the improvvisazione — we have no English word for a talent which in England is unknown, — of a regular tragedy on the Greek model, with the chorusses and dialogue complete. The subject proposed was from the story of Ulysses, which afforded him an opportunity of bringing in the whole sonorous nomenclature of the Heathen Mythology, — which, says Forsyth, enters into the web of every improvvisatore, and assists the poet both with rhymes and ideas. Most of the celebrated improvvisatori have been Florentines: Sgricci, is, I believe, a Neapolitan, and his rival Sestini a Roman.
April 7. — Any public exhibition of talent in the Fine Arts is here called an Accademia. Sestini gave his Accademia in an antichamber of the Palazzo—, I forget its name, but it was much like all the other Palaces we are accustomed to see here; exhibiting the same strange contrast of [312] ancient taste and magnificence, with present meanness and poverty. We were ushered into a lofty room of noble size and beautiful proportions, with its rich fresco-painted walls and ceiling faded and falling to decay; a common brick floor, and sundry window-panes broken, and stuffed with paper. The room was nearly filled by the audience, amongst whom I remarked a great number of English. A table with writing implements, and an old shattered jingling piano, occupied one side of the apartment, and a small space was left in front for the poet. Whilst we waited with some impatience for his appearance, several persons present walked up to the table and wrote down various subjects; which on Sestini's coming forward he read aloud, marking those which were distinguished by the most general applause. This selection formed our evening's entertainment. A lady sat down in her bonnet and shawl to accompany him; and when fatigued, another fair musician readily supplied her place. It is seldom that an improvvisatore attempts to recite without the assistance of music. When Dr. Moore heard Corilla at Florence, she sang to the accompaniment of two violins.* La Fantastici preferred the [313] guitar; and I should have preferred either to our jingling harpsichord. However, a few chords struck at intervals were sufficient to support the voice, and mark the time. Several airs were tried, and considered, before the poet could fix on one suited to his subject, and the measure he intended to employ. In general they were pretty and simple, consisting of very few notes, and more like a chant or recitative, than a regular air: one of the most beautiful I have obtained, and shall bring with me to England.
The moment Sestini had made his choice, he stepped forward, and without further pause or preparation, began with the first subject upon his list,—"Il primo Navigatore."
Gesner's beautiful Idyl of "The First Navigator," supplied Sestini with the story, in all its details; but he versified it with surprising facility: and, as far as I could judge, with great spirit and elegance. He added, too, some trifling circumstances, and several little traits, the naïveté of which afforded considerable amusement. When an accurate rhyme, or apt expression, did not offer itself on the instant it was required, he knit his brows and clenched his fingers with impatience; [314] but I think he never hesitated more than half a second. At the moment the chord was struck the rhyme was ready. In this manner he poured forth between thirty and forty stanzas, with still increasing animation; and wound up his poem with some beautiful images of love, happiness, and innocence. Of his success I could form some idea by the applauses he received from better judges than myself.
After a few minutes repose and a glass of water, he next called on the company to supply him with rhymes for a sonnet. These, as fast as they were suggested by various persons, he wrote down upon a slip of paper. The last rhyme given was "Ostello," — (a common ale-house,) — at which he demurred, and submitting to the company the difficulty of introducing so vulgar a word into an heroic sonnet, respectfully begged that another might be substituted. A lady called out "Avello," the poetical term for a grave, or a sepulchre; which expression bore a happy analogy to the subject proposed. The poet smiled, well pleased; — and stepping forward with the paper in his hand, he immediately, without even a moment's preparation, recited a sonnet on the second subject upon his list, — "La Morte di Alfieri." — I could better judge of the merit of this effusion, because he spoke it unaccompanied by music; and his enun- [315] ciation was remarkably distinct. The subject was popular, and treated with much feeling and poetic fervour. After lamenting Alfieri as the patriot, as well as the bard, and as the glory of his country, he concluded, by indignantly repelling the supposition that "the latest sparks of genius and freedom were buried in the tomb of Vittorio Alfieri." A thunder of applause followed; and cries of "O bravo Sestini! bravo Sestini!" were echoed from the Italian portion of the audience, long after the first acclamations had subsided. The men rose simultaneously from their seats; and I confess I could hardly keep mine. The animation of the poet, and the enthusiasm of the audience, sent a thrill through every nerve and filled my eyes with tears.
The next subject was "La Morte di Beatrice Cenci;" — and this, I think, was a failure. The frightful story of the Cenci is too well known in England since the publication of Shelley's Tragedy. Here it is familiar to all classes; and though two centuries have since elapsed, it seems as fresh in the memory, or rather in the imagination of these people, as if it had happened but yesterday. The subject, was not well chosen for a public and mixed assembly; and Sestini, without adverting to the previous details of horror, confined himself most scrupulously, with great propriety, to the [316] subject proposed. He described Beatrice led to execution, — "con baldanza casta e generosa," — and the effect produced on the multitude by her youth and beauty; — not forgetting to celebrate "those tresses like threads of gold whose wavy splendour dazzled all beholders," as they are described by a co-temporary writer. He put into her mouth, a long and pious dying speech, in which she expressed her trust in the blessed Virgin, and her hopes of pardon from eternal justice and mercy. To my surprise, he also made her in one stanza confess and repent the murder, or rather sacrifice,** which she had perpetrated; which is contrary to the known fact, the Beatrice never confessed to the last moment of her existence; nor gave any reason to suppose that she repented. The whole was drawn out to too great a length, and, with the exception of a few happy touches, and pathetic sentiments, went off flatly. It was very little applauded.
The next subject was the "Immortality of the Soul," on which the Poet displayed amazing pomp and power of words, and a wonderful affluence of ideas. He shewed, too, an intimate acquaintance with all that had ever been said, or sung, upon the same subject, from Plato to [317] Thomas Aquinas. I confess I derived little benefit from all this display of poetry and erudition; for, after the first few stanzas, finding myself irretrievably perplexed by the united difficulties of the language and the subject, I withdrew my attention, and amused myself with the paintings on the walls, and in reveries on the past and present, till I was roused by the acclamations that followed the conclusion of the poem; which excited very general admiration and applause.
The company then furnished the bouts-rimés for another Sonnet; the subject was "L'Amor della Patria." The title, even before he began, was hailed by a round of plaudits; and the Sonnet itself was excellent and spirited. Excellent I mean in its general effect, as an improvvisazione: — how it would stand the test of cool criticism I cannot tell; nor is that any thing to the purpose: these extemporaneous effusions ought to be judged merely as what they are, — not as finished or correct poems, but as wonderful exercises of tenacious memory, ready wit, and that quickness of imagination which can soar
—— "al bel cimento
Sulle ali dell' momento."To return to Sestini. It may be imagined, that on such a subject as "L'Amor della Patria," the ancient Roman worthies were not forgotten; [318] and accordingly, a Brutus, a Scipio, a Fabius, or a Fabricius, figured in every line. And surely on no occasion could they have been more appropriately introduced: — in Rome, and when addressing Romans, who shewed, by their enthusiastic applause, that though the spirit of their forefathers may be extinct, their memory is not.
The next subject, which formed a sort of pendant to the Cenci, was the "Parricide of Tullia." In this again his success was complete. The stanza in which Tullia ordered her charioteer to "drive on," was given with such effect as to electrify us: and a sudden burst of approbation which caused a momentary interruption, evidently lent the poet fresh spirits and animation.
The evening concluded with a lively burlesque, entitled "Il Mercato d'Amore," which represented Love as setting up a shop to sell "la Mercanzie dell Gioventù"[.] The list of his stock in trade, though it could not boast much originality, was given with admirable wit and vivacity. In conclusion, Love, being threatened with a bankruptcy, took shelter, as the poet assured us, in the bright eyes of the ladies present. This farewell compliment was prettily turned, and intended, of course, to be general: but it happened, luckily for Sestini, that just opposite to him, and fixed upon him at the moment, were two of the brightest eyes in the [319] world. Whether he owed any of his inspiration to their beams I know not; but the àpropos of the compliment was seized immediately, and loudly applauded by the gentlemen round us.
Sestini is a young man, apparently about five and twenty; of a slight and delicate figure, and in his whole appearance, odd, wild, and picturesque. He has the common foreign trick of running his fingers through his black bushy hair; and accordingly it stands on end in all directions. A pair of immense whiskers, equally black and luxuriant, meet at the point of his chin, encircling a visage of most cadaverous hue, and features which might be termed positively ugly, were it not for the "vago spirito ardento," which shines out from his dark eyes, and the fire and intelligence which light up his whole countenance, till it almost kindles into beauty. Though he afterwards conversed with apparent ease, and replied to the compliments of the company, he was evidently much exhausted by his exertions. I should fear that their frequent repetition, and the effervescence of mind, and nervous excitement they cannot but occasion, must gradually wear out his delicate frame and feeble temperament; and that the career of this extraordinary genius will be short as it is brilliant.
* Corilla (whose real name was Maddalena Morelli) often accompanied herself on the violin; holding it, not against her shoulder, but resting it in her lap. She was reckoned a fine performer on this instrument; and for her distinguished talents was crowned in the Capitol in 1779. — ED.
** Othello. Thou mak'st me call what I intend to do / A murder, — which I thought a sacrifice. —
Notes:
- Collected by:
- AE