Blog

Dec 25, 2011

Though he died of consumption (probably tuberculosis) at age 26, Giovanni Battista Pergolesi packed a lot of good music into his tragically short life span.  Actually, he fared a lot better than his four siblings, all of whom died before age two (two of them just a few days old).  His parents died several years apart when he was in his late teens.  Even as a child, it was pretty clear he was not going to be a robust adult.  In fact, he was confirmed at 18 months instead of the usual 6 years, a common practice when it was thought the child would not live long.  Just to finish the health portfolio, he had a withered left leg, probably from polio.  I mean, really, the guy couldn’t catch a break.  It makes sense, then, that he gravitated to music, he probably wasn’t sports material, and I can only imagine that he probably caught some grief from typically cruel classmates, but I’m guessing here.

So, was his music somber, dour, sad, as befits his sickly persona?  Surprisingly, no.  In fact he’s known as the “Father of Comic Opera.”  After he died, his intermezzo, La Serva Padrona (the servant becomes mistress) caused a storm in Paris between adherents of Italian light opera and supporters of traditional French opera; the incident now known as the “Guerre des Bouffons.”  I can just picture it, angry knots of Frenchmen screaming and yelling at a coterie of agitated Italians over the correct form of opera.  Now that’s comic opera right there.  As often happens, international acclaim came only after Pergolesi's demise.  During his lifetime he was known for the most part only in Rome and Naples.

So where does Pergolesi fit in the Baroque firmament?  Well, there is some controversy on this issue.  A recent university article says, in part, “Pergolesi's posthumous reputation has been exaggerated beyond all reason.”  Really?  And this: “as a composer of sacred music Pergolesi is effective but essentially commonplace and superficial;” and, “his best quality is a certain sentimental charm.”  Well, OK, you could make the case that his influence was exaggerated because he died young (by the way, the same article claimed his poor health was due to his “notorious profligacy”, which seems like a cheap shot given his dreadful health history).  Nevertheless, there is no denying he was capable of achingly beautiful compositions, and the Stabat Mater, written shortly before his death, is a justifiably celebrated major work of the Baroque era.