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Renato Bruson (born 13 January 1936) is an Italian operatic baritone. Bruson is widely considered one of the most important Verdi baritones of the late 20th and early 21st century. He was born in Granze near Padua, Italy. Bruson made his operatic debut as the Conte di Luna in Il trovatore at the Teatro Lirico Sperimentale in Spoleto in 1960. The following year he was Riccardo in I puritani at the Teatro dell'Opera di Roma in Rome. His first Metropolitan Opera appearance was as Enrico in Lucia di Lammermoor in 1969. In 1970 he started his collaboration with conductor Riccardo Muti in Un ballo in maschera in Florence. He made his debut at La Scala in 1972 as Antonio in Donizetti's Linda di Chamonix, at the Edinburgh International Festival in 1972 as Ezio in Attila, at Covent Garden in 1975 in the role of Renato in Un ballo in maschera, substituting with great success for Piero Cappuccilli. He debuted at the Vienna State Opera in 1978 with Macbeth, with such a success that the prestigious Austrian theatre awarded him with the important title of Kammersänger. In the 1980s he turned to the 18th century with Mozart's Don Giovanni and to Italian verismo with Umberto Giordano's Andrea Chénier. He is considered by some critics the finest Rigoletto since Tito Gobbi. They appreciate his elegant and expressive phrasing, velvety tone, musical intelligence and acting qualities. He excels in long, lyrical lines. He is also appreciated for not disdaining smaller roles and for not assuming a divo attitude. Bruson once described himself in the following terms: "I am self critic enough to understand what I can get at. Since I knew I did not have a thundering voice to make coarse effects, I sought the interpretation since I think it is more important that the public go home with something in their hearts than some sounds in their ears"...
Lyrics & English Translation
I believe in a cruel God
who created me like himself
in anger of whom that I name.
From the cowardice of a seed
or of a vile atom I was born.
I am a son evil because I am a man;
and I feel the primitive mud in me.
Yes! This is my faith!
I believe with a firm heart,
so does the widow in the temple,
the evil I think
and proceeds from me,
fulfils my destiny.
I think the honest man
is a mockery,
in face and heart,
that everything is in him is a lie:
tears, kisses, looks,
sacrifices and honour.
And I think the man plays a game
of unjust fate
the seed of the cradle
the worm of the grave.
After all this foolishness comes death.
And then what? And then?
Death is Nothingness.
Heaven is an old wives' tale!
A link to this wonderful artists personal website:
I send my kind and warm regards,
allontanandosi dal verone seza più guardar Cassio che sarà scomparso fra gli alberi
Credo in un Dio crudel che m'ha creato
simile a sè e che nell'ira io nomo.
Dalla viltà d'un germe o d'un atòmo
vile son nato.
perchè son uomo;
e sento il fango originario in me.
Sì! questa è la mia fe'!
Credo con fermo cuor, siccome crede
la vedovella al tempio,
che il mal ch'io penso e che da me procede,
per il mio destino adempio.
Credo che il guisto è un istrion beffardo,
e nel viso e nel cuor,
che tutto è in lui bugiardo:
lagrima, bacio, sguardo,
sacrificio ed onor.
E credo l'uom gioco d'iniqua sorte
dal germe della culla
al verme dell'avel.
Vien dopo tanta irrision la Morte.
E poi? E poi? La Morte è il Nulla.
è vecchia fola il Ciel.
Si vede passare nel giardino Desdemona con Emilia. Jago si slacia al verone, al di là del quale è appostato
(walking away from the terrace without another glance
at Cassio, who has now vanished among the trees)
I believe in a cruel God
who created me in his image
and who in fury I name.
From the very vileness of a germ
or an atom, vile was I born.
I am a wretch because I am a man,
and I feel within me the primeval slime.
Yes! This is my creed!
I believe with a heart as steadfast
as that of the widow in church,
that the evil I think
and that which I perform
I think and do by destiny’s decree.
I believe the just man to be a mocking actor
in face and heart;
that all his being is a lie,
tear, kiss, glance,
sacrifice and honour.
And I believe man the sport of evil fate
from the germ of the cradle
to the worm of the grave.
After all this mockery then comes Death.
And then?... And then?
Death is nothingness,
heaven an old wives’ tale.
(Desdemona appears, walking in the garden with Emilia.
Iago darts to the terrace, on the other side of which
Cassio is standing.)