Learn more about La Traviata from Stage Director Johnathon Pape
The Lady of the Camelias by Alexandre Dumas fils created quite a sensation when it was published in 1848. The novel presented a rather revealing slice of contemporary life in its authentic depiction of the Parisian demi-monde-that glittering world where men of means consorted with glamorous women of easy virtue. Although the characters had been
fictionalized, the story was based largely upon the author’s affair with the famous courtesan Marie Duplessis. She was perhaps the biggest celebrity of her day, famous for her great beauty, her many lovers and her lavish lifestyle. She met the young Dumas when they were both 20. Their romance ended badly, and within a year she was dead of consumption. Dumas, who was just 23 years old, penned the novel in a few short weeks. Although there were clear differences between the novel and the well-publicized events that inspired it, there was no escaping the essence of truth and personal loss that lived in every page. By 1852, Dumas fils had adapted his wildly successful novel into a play, which rapidly established itself as a classic of 19th century romantic theatre. The title role became a favorite of many leading ladies, including Sarah Bernhardt and Eleanora Duse.
Verdi was living in Paris during this time with the soprano Giuseppina Strepponi, who would eventually become his second wife. He was captivated by the novel and play, perhaps because he too was in a relationship that polite society was reluctant to accept. He began work on an operatic setting of the story. After overcoming numerous obstacles with the censors (a chronic problem in Verdi’s career), the opera opened in Venice in March of 1853. It was Verdi’s wish that the opera be presented in
modern dress. He sought a soprano for the title role who not only had the required vocal ability, but was completely believable in the part. Unfortunately the prima donna for the premiere was rather large and the audience was very uncomfortable seeing their own time presented with such unflinching honesty. The opening night was a fiasco. Fortunately, the opera was presented again with a new cast and a production that was set over a hundred years earlier. La Traviata has had an enduring place in the repertory ever since. During much of the 19th century, La Traviata was presented in 18th century settings. After 1900, it became more fashionable to set the opera as Verdi intended, probably because the audience no longer viewed it as a comment on their world. (Tulsa Opera audiences may well remember the stir that Nic Muni’s modern-dress production of La Traviata created in the early 1990s, when he set the opera in the world of high-class New York call girls during the early days of the AIDS epidemic.)
Matters of production and setting notwithstanding, La Traviata succeeds most of all because of the poignant human drama it presents. The personal cost, profound authenticity and lavish romanticism that Dumas fils captured in his novel and play are also hallmarks of Verdi’s score. It is arguably Verdi’s most intimate work and the only one which he set in his own time. Like the young Dumas before him, Verdi creates a heartbreaking portrait of a woman who chooses true love over a hedonistic lifestyle, only to be asked to make the ultimate sacrifice for that love. One cannot help but be both moved and inspired by the nobility and grace of this “traviata,” or fallen woman.

You can read “The Lady with the Camelias” at Google Books.com. The edition I found also had an excellent treatise on Marie Duplessis as an introduction to Dumas fil’s book. Reading the book AND the play (also on Google books) greatly enhanced my appreciation of Verdi’s opera.
http://books.google.com/books?id=leYOAAAAIAAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=lady+of+camellias&hl=en&ei=VM6sTI60EMGDnQfCq4XhDA&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CDQQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false
If you watch Franco Zefferilli’s production of “Traviata” you can see where he references the opera, the play and the book for his movie. (the movie opens with preparations for the auction of Violetta possessions – where the book opens as well)
(the opera opens with the dinner party, which is where the play opens)
One thing we shouldn’t overlook in a discussion of the opera is Violetta’s battle with consumption or tuberculosis …. a disease called the “white plague” in its time, and responsible for one in three deaths in Europe (also a problematical disease in the US – in fact my father was placed in a tuberculosis sanitarium in Arizona during the 30′s as a child)
This was a disease that Violetta/Marguarite/Marie probably caught when she moved from the country to be a seamstress in the crowded slums of Paris.
The escape she and Alfredo take to the country was actually one of the recommended treatments for tuberculosis. Also peace and quiet was a main part of the regimen. (In fact, doctors were encouraged to lie to their patients about their condition – thus in the book, Marguarite says “My doctor tells me the blood is coming from my throat, but I know better.”)
In tuberculosis sanetariums, patients were supposd to do as little as possible.
So, Alfredo’s “you’re killing yourself” may have been advice given on his familiarity with treatment for the disease.
And, thus the kind of fatalistic resolution of Violetta to her dilemna ….. if she didn’t live the life she did, she couldn’t support herself — a trip to the country meant a loss in income (but possible healing) — a quandry that precipitates the fallout between Alfredo, his father and Violetta.
The stressful argument she has with the father, was highly upsetting to her — weakening her — and possibly contributing to the reason she finally gave in to his demands.
RD
Anyone interested in losing 20 pounds in 30 minutes!!? This is how you do it:
1) Get good friends like Bill and Susan Thomas to buy you the right to be a supernumerary in one of the grand old traditional operas, like La Traviata.
2) Show up for dress rehearsal and put on your costume. First the QUILTED floorlength petticoat, then the bum roll ties around your waist. That’s like a STUFFED half innertube. Then the BROCADE floorlength skirt, followed by the corseted top that laces up the back (hint: don’t do this unless you’re flatchested…otherwise, it will feel like being in a mammogram for hours at a time). Top it all off with a WEIGHTED wig full of curls (after your long, thick hair has been curled up with a million bobbypins), then all the jewelry.
3) Walk around for three hours at rehearsals, so you can really get the FEEL of it. You can’t sit down and mess up the ruffles, unless you wear capri’s or shorts, because you have to hike up the skirt to drape it over a chair back (! not ladylike).
4) RUSH back to the dressing room after curtain call. Actually, go get the @#$% wig off first (sorry, Ruth, it is BEAUTIFUL and I do look so lovely), because everyone else is in the dressing room stripping.
5) Voila. 20 pounds evaporate in an instant! Well, feels like 20 pounds. I’ll actually measure it tonight and report back tomorrow.
Many thanks to Bill and Susan for the opportunity to know what it’s like to enjoy instant weight loss of 20 pounds!