No Pagliaccio non son

Jonathan Stewart Vickers, CC (October 29, 1926 – July 10, 2015), known professionally as Jon Vickers, was a Canadianheldentenor. Born in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan, he was the sixth in a family of eight children. In 1950, he was awarded a scholarship to study opera at The Royal Conservatory of Music in Toronto. In 1957 Vickers joined London’s Royal Opera House, Covent Garden company. In 1960 he joined the Metropolitan Opera. He became world famous for a wide range of German, French and Italian roles. Vickers' huge, powerful voice and solid technique met the demands of many French, German and Italian roles. He was also highly regarded for his powerful stage presence and thoughtful characterizations. In 1968 he was made a Companion of the Order of Canada. Vickers received the Governor General's Performing Arts Award for Lifetime Artistic Achievement, Canada's highest honour in the performing arts, in 1998. He debuted at the Bayreuth Festival in 1958 as Siegmund in Die Walküre and sang Parsifal there in 1964.[3] Later negotiations with Wieland Wagner concerning appearances as Siegfried in Götterdämmerung ceased on Wieland's death in 1966. His debut role at the Metropolitan Opera in 1960 was Canio in Pagliacci.[6] He appeared at the Met for 22 seasons in 280 performances of 17 roles, including Florestan in Fidelio, Siegmund in Wagner's Die Walküre, Don Jose in Bizet's Carmen, Radamčs in Aida, Erik in Wagner's Der fliegende Holländer, Herman in Tchaikovsky's Queen of Spades, Samson in both Handel's opera and Saint-Saëns' Samson et Dalila, the title role of Verdi's Otello, Don Alvaro in Verdi's La forza del destino, Peter Grimes, Tristan und Isolde, Laca in Janá?ek's Jen?fa, Vasek in Smetana's The Bartered Bride, and the title role in Wagner's Parsifal, giving his farewell in 1987...

Lyrics & English Translation


No! I am not Pagliaccio;
If my face is pale,
It’s from shame, and lust for revenge!
This man is taking back his rights,
This bleeding heart wants blood
To wash away the shame, o cursed woman!
No, I am not Pagliaccio!
I am the idiot
Who picked this little orphan off the street
Almost dead from hunger,
And gave you a name,
And a love that was feverish and mad!
I had hoped, I had been blinded by this delirium,
If not love, pity... mercy!
And my heart was glad for every sacrifice required,
And confidently believed
In you, more than God Himself!
But only vice lives in your neglected soul;
you have no feeling... only feeling for yourself!
Go away, you’re not worth my grief,
Wretched harlot,
You have my contempt
Just to crush you under my feet!!




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