Original subtitles

Downloaded from YTS.MX

The 2K digital restoration was made from a 4K scan of the original 16mm negative,

and a scan of the original 35mm magnetic sound.

Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX

The various materials are deposited by T&C and kept at the Swiss Film Archive.

The colour-grading of this new print was done by Renato Berta,

the film's director of photography.

Financing: Memoriav

Restoration: Swiss Film Archive With the participation of: T&C Films

Laboratory: L'immagine Ritrovata (Bologna)

OLD PEOPLE'S HOME FOR MUSICIANS

VERDI FOUNDATION

Milan, winter 1984.

Hello? Casa Verdi.

Maestro Puligheddu is out.

I'll pass on the message.

That's a thought.

For the past 22 days we've been searching...

We can't go down now.

They're filming us.

Room 52?

Third floor.

Benedettini.

Then it's the second floor.

Up those stairs.

Merry Christmas.

What's that you're practising?

I've known that by heart for years.

I'm just rehearsing it.

The slave chorus.

Poor things.

To think that such things still exist...

A co-production with RTSI / SSR

TOSCA'S KISS

A film by DANIEL SCHMID

Cinematography RENATO BERTA

Sound LUC YERSIN

Artistic collaboration RAUL GIMENEZ

Editing DANIELA RODERER

Assistant camera LUKAS STREBEL

Electrician FELIX MEYER

Production assistant RAFFAELLA DELUCA

Production secretary PRISCA COMTE

for Pupa...

You gave me 200.

I didn't have any lire.

You gave me 200.

I thought they were mine.

I didn't have anything.

I've lost 150.

We'll leave the cards here.

See you later. Goodbye.

Now you know how

it should be developed.

The same notes in a plagal cadence.

You sing them at the finale

and use the leitmotiv

as an introduction.

Are your legs aching?

And how! All the time.

You end up feeling tired

and doing nothing good anymore.

"No, I wouldn't say "nothing"."

With good intentions, my dear,

you can overcome your tiredness.

Look at the way you're sitting.

St. Anthony be praised!

[G. Verdi, Guglielmo Tell]

Again!

I want you to develop

these melodies somewhat...

Look!

Here comes the great Signora Scuderi,

interpreter of Verdi and Puccini.

Come a little closer.

I like her very much.

She's on my floor, by the way.

We're always discussing art and music,

singing a piece together,

or just pretending...

It's fun to just pretend.

It keeps your mind sharp.

What do you sing together?

Cavalleria, Manon...

It depends on the day and on one's voice.

That's the way it is.

You have a lovely voice, too.

Signora Scuderi is the last

of the romantics.

I'm glad to have achieved my goal.

I gave everything I had.

What do you sing?

Many things.

Sing something for us.

I'm not in the mood.

[G. Puccini, Tosca, Atto 2, Vissi d'Arte]

♪ I lived on art

♪ I lived on love,

♪ I never hurt a soul!

Nearly better than Callas.

♪ With a secret hand

♪ How many misfortunes I knew I helped.

The orchestra, too...

♪ Forever in true faith

♪ My prayer

♪ rose to the holy altar.

♪ Forever in true faith

♪ I gave flowers to the altar.

♪ In the hour of grief,

♪ why, why, o Lord,

♪ why do you reward me thus?

Really wonderful.

Thank you. It was nothing.

It was very difficult.

We are satisfied

with simpler pieces.

I believe this is the way?

Goodbye to you all.

When they reopened Verdi's grave in 1951,

I had the good fortune of seeing his embalmed face.

It was quite normal,

the skin was a little dark,

but his beard and hair

were white as snow,

like the picture in the office.

This is the boardroom,

where the board of directors meet

in order to discuss all the problems

of the house.

This is the second sacred place of the house,

the first being the crypt, where the mortal

remains of the maestro are preserved.

This is where the painted masterpieces are kept.

Boldini's famous original portrait.

One is reminded here...

It's not difficult...

That the Casa Verdi was born

from the coming together of two trains of thought,

those of Giuseppe Verdi and Giuseppina Strepponi.

This occurred during the last years

of their lives.

Giuseppina Strepponi died

3 years before the maestro.

During the last year of Strepponi's life,

they wanted to set up something

to be remembered by,

to perpetuate their memory, and foremost something

to help, as he used to say,

"musicians who were not as lucky as I was."

Verdi was something special,

a humane person...

This house

is proof of the man's heart.

After Falstaff was finished

he wanted to build this house.

He was very interested in it.

He supervised the construction

together with the architect, Boito,

he was very involved,

saying: "This is my finest achievement."

The slave chorus...

how many years did we sing that!

All things come to an end, are forgotten.

And then we talk about them

as if nothing had happened in between.

Why do you show the cane?

It helps me to remember.

People will think you're fragile.

Put it down on the chair.

This is Tosca's cane.

I want them to see it.

The house has been full of life

ever since. For the last 83 years.

It was opened in 1902, 1901...

Verdi died in 1901, it opened in 1902.

It supported itself for many years, exclusively

through the author's rights he bequeathed the house.

In this way he looked after

the house and its occupants.

However, the rights expired

20 years ago.

Life has been difficult since then, from a financial standpoint.

We who run the house

wish to keep up the standard

of hospitality to which the

elderly musicians have been accustomed.

But today, the dire financial situation

and the high cost of living

make things extremely difficult.

Casa Verdi needs the help

and the solidarity of all those

who love Verdi and his music.

These are show people.

With their little habits...

and little flaws.

With their artistic mannerisms, for they

still consider themselves as artists.

If you have lived all your life for

the theatre, you can't close yourself off.

You must enjoy life.

We do our best to make them feel alive.

When we watch an opera on television,

everyone criticises the tenor,

or the soprano.

"That's not the correct way to sing."

"I would have sung it differently."

Here you never live in the present.

When the residents talk

it's always about the past.

The past is ever present.

I, personally, am very interested in their past.

I am curious about their artistic life.

The places where they have sung,

the theatres where they have performed.

Many theatres.

Often here in Milan.

Many years at the Scala.

I sang Pagliacci in the Teatro Lirico,

and Cavalleria in the Carpano.

Ernani in the Verdi,

Un Ballo in Maschera in the Verme.

Bonci was there...

and a number of other tenors.

Then abroad, Buenos Aires...

Rio de Janeiro.

Montevideo.

We used to go on tour...

Just like that.

So did I, I sang many years.

24 years on the stage. No small feat.

24 years!

I retired in 1945.

I sang at the Scala for many years,

at the Royal Opera House in Naples,

in Genoa, at all the great

Italian theatres, in Central America, Buenos Aires...

With all the great conductors.

We all shared in the success.

[G. Puccini, Tosca, Atto 2]

How beautiful!

How silly of me, I almost feel like crying.

How silly of me.

I sing. I play cards.

I think of someone,

play a game of solitaire

and hope all goes well.

If it doesn't, I say to myself:

I don't believe in it anyway,

and if it does,

I jump for joy.

Just for fun.

To pass the time.

My hands are icy cold.

I have sung in over 20 operas.

Our honoured Beniamino Gigli.

Fantastic.

He wrote me a very nice dedication.

"To Sara Scuderi, a great artist

with a wonderful voice,

in memory of our Tosca in Nice. Sincerely, Beniamino Gigli."

He couldn't have put it more nicely.

And then my dearest Verdi.

God bless him for everything he has done for us.

He did something great.

He has taken away all our troubles.

Oh my God, just then I thought I saw him smile.

This is "Tosca".

It was carnival time.

I put on the costume,

cane, hat, everything.

This is our poor

Prince Umberto, deceased.

This lovely portrait of Puccini

was damaged out of spite.

They broke in when I was out.

Luckily they didn't damage the face.

Who was it?

If I knew that, I'd punch

him in the face, the coward.

To do that to a lady.

How nasty.

That's the way it is, my dear.

Life repeats itself.

I am ready, Maestro.

[G. Verdi, Nabucco, Atto 3, Scena 4]

Stop.

The singing could be more restrained...

If you always stand there,

I can only be seen from behind.

The true atmosphere...

- ...of the theatre... - Things have changed a lot.

...has disappeared.

Here one lives peacefully,

but the musical side

fades away imperceptibly.

The enthusiasm is missing.

The theatre companies came to us in the old days

and gave fantastic concerts.

No one comes any more now.

Vocal music is also disappearing.

The atmosphere is different.

There are still the Scala

and a few other theatres.

That hurts.

We see Simionato sometimes,

we used to sing together,

and Tebaldi, who made her début with me.

There was Callas, of course,

we often sang together.

G. Donizetti, Anna Bolena,

Maria Callas, Giulietta Simionato,

Perazzini and my wife

at the Scala.

A marvellous spectacle.

That's Pagliughi, she sings

the duet with you.

I made my début...

In Forza del Destino.

No, in Il Trovatore.

She debuted in Il Trovatore,

playing my mistress.

And in Forza del Destino,

she played my sister.

We got married in the end.

My wife is American.

From the state of Wisconsin.

It's true.

We never sang together again.

We were together in Milan.

My wife sang Tosca

with Stabile,

and I sang Rigoletto and Pagliacci.

Stabile was a great baritone.

Perhaps the best in Italy.

We sang Tosca together three times.

She was with the Scala in Rio de Janeiro.

That's important, too.

Did you go with the Rex?

I went on my own.

The Rex went to New York.

They weren't going to Rio.

How was the Rex?

It was wonderful. I went with the Rex

to New York.

Very good food,

we enjoyed ourselves.

Look, with Gigli at the Scala.

Here's the whole troupe of the Cetra

during the recording of Lucia.

He's doing a duet from Lucia

with Pagliughi.

No, not with Pagliughi.

It's Rigoletto.

I used to put all my heart

into singing Rigoletto.

That's how I felt with Norma.

I was always glad to sing it.

You go up that way.

I'm going this way.

[G. Puccini, Tosca, Atto 1]

Can't understand a word.

We've missed a tone.

Whether I sang? And how!

50 years on the stage.

I'm nearly 90.

I sang in a choir.

A special kind of choir.

What do I mean by special? One had

to be good in those days.

Otherwise, we were thrown out.

The opera is founded on the choir.

The soloists aren't capable of singing an opera.

Maybe a ballad,

but not the whole opera.

The opera is founded on the choir.

I could name you quite a few.

And the orchestra!

I sang at the Scala for six years.

Six years, six great seasons... at the Scala.

My name was written this big.

If you mention her name to visitors,

many of them ask for an autograph,

because they still remember

this famous name.

That's how people are.

♪ Why have you deserted me?

♪ Why do you not return?

Do you understand Neapolitan?

But of course. I did 2 years...

[F.P. Tosti, Malia]

Come on: Your glance...

♪ I am intoxicated by your glance.

♪ When I hear your voice

♪ I feel as if I'm going to die.

Almost like Caruso.

Oh no. Caruso does the opposite.

The Neapolitan way.

♪ I am intoxicated by your glance...

You have to feel the intoxication.

Forte to start with, then piano,

and then forte again here.

The emphasis is...

♪ I am intoxicated by your glance...

...on "intoxicated.

You mustn't hold the tone too long here.

It's too long.

That's the Neapolitans for you.

Switch off the light when you leave.

Very nice. Have you got anything else?

Let's go in.

Signora Simionato, what does it feel

like not to sing anymore?

I have no regrets.

I know that I have made the best use

of the talents bestowed on me.

I made the most out of my career.

My conscience is clear.

Life wanted me

to stop singing

in my prime, as one says,

before having any problems.

I am satisfied. It is better the public

remembers you as you were,

set on a pedestal.

Without weakness, without compromise.

I was still whole.

That's how I want the public to remember me.

It is better that

the public doesn't abandon you,

rather the artist should abandon the public.

Understood?

I was 57 years old.

I said to myself:

"I want to retire in beauty."

How many colleagues have I seen, great artists?

Galeffi, for example...

Stracciari...

It was moving.

It was moving to visit them in their theatre boxes.

It's true, Galeffi,

was singing Rigoletto at the age of 70.

I admired him, but I said to myself:

"I hope I never get there..."

After a concert in Metz,

I could feel my heart beating.

And I said: "That's enough."

At the back of my third album,

I wrote:

Giuseppe Manachini, 1959, the end.

No one is singing!

[G. Verdi, La Traviata, Atto 1, Scena 2]

♪ Let us empty the joyous goblets

♪ in the splendour of their fragrance.

♪ May the ephemeral hour

♪ be overcome in the ecstasy of desire.

♪ Let us drink to the sweet tremors

♪ of lover's bliss,

♪ for this glance

♪ doth pierce the heart.

I lived solely for my art, the stage,

the performance.

It was my passion. You'll find me

singing two hours after my death.

There are a lot of serious women here.

People tend to say:

"Oh, she was an artiste. That's wrong."

We know the meaning of life.

We weigh it out, gram for gram.

I learnt to play the harp at the Milan Conservatory.

I got my diploma for the orchestral harp in 1920,

and one in 1923 for the chromatic harp

with crossed strings,

like the piano, but without pedals.

I gave concerts and lessons up until 1930.

Then I specialised in theory.

Which is the basis of the musician.

I had hundreds of pupils.

World-famous ones, orchestra directors.

Conductors, soloists...

I taught the director and 7 professors of the Conservatory.

Every musician needs to have theory as a basis.

It teaches you to set the pace,

where to put the stress, rhythm...

Where would we be if the interpreters

had not enjoyed

a theoretical musical education?

It makes everyone agree.

For example: If one man speaks German,

another French, and yet another English,

they do not understand each other.

But with a basic musical culture

one can make oneself understood perfectly.

Music is a universal language.

You know what I mean?

Have I made myself clear?

Even the newspapers repeat the same old phrases over and over again.

But if we listen to a few bars

of a certain music,

and it touches our hearts.

We feel it in our heart.

And this state of excitement remains,

robbing us of our sleep.

[G. Puccini, Tosca, Atto 2]

That's quite an effort if you're out of practice.

Remember what the doctor said.

But what if I have to sing!

Where?

Here.

Come and visit me tonight.

2nd floor. Room 49.

I have a bedroom

and music studio all in one.

Goodbye!

Too high!

It's really rather high.

It's not the right pitch.

The first one was right.

What do you think?

I hope you didn't record that.

Mind the step!

I'll switch on the light.

Open the suitcase, Della.

What have we got here?

The cape from Rigoletto.

That's the naphthalene, to help preservation.

The coat.

From Gioconda.

Do you want to see the barber?

- Yes, or no? - Yes.

- You had that made in Spain. - Yes, in Spain.

All that used to be gold.

It's worn off over the years.

Look, isn't it lovely!

I've made a mistake.

That's Rigoletto. My goodness!

I'm a little mixed up.

Seeing these things again, after all those years!

When I think how I sweated

in that jacket!

- You sweated a lot in Rio. - Oh, so much!

Do you want to see me in it?

I want to put it on.

My dear Verdi!

I had to roll about on the floor.

The choir were giving me hell.

How often did you help me get dressed!

This is how I looked!

With these trousers

and a huge humpback.

There it is.

These are the sleeves.

All embroidered.

Have you come to pay me a visit?

That makes me very happy.

Me too. That's why I came.

Come and sit down.

I know you like this chair.

- Comfortable, isn't it? - Yes, quite.

How are you?

My health is all right,

but I'm feeling rather sad.

Don't talk to me about feeling sad.

I wish I could see my son.

He's much too far away.

He promised to come soon.

- They'll both come. - Pull yourself together!

I'm trying...

But my feelings get the better of me sometimes.

Do you dream about him?

- Have I forgotten him? - No, dream about him!

All the time.

My son means everything to me.

Poor dear.

I'm all alone.

Papa, Mama, my sister. They're all in heaven.

I have a nephew, he's an engineer.

He's married and has a good job.

- In Mexico. - Ah, in Mexico.

That's the belt.

I wore it in Gioconda, no it was...

in Andrea Chenier that I wore it,

with a sword and a huge hat.

This is the humpback

from the second and final act,

after they had killed my daughter.

The second humpback went

with my black costume.

This is the jabot from Traviata.

And this is...

the purse...

the ever-empty purse...

from Rigoletto.

Come and see me at any time.

What's your room number?

I'll tell you later.

My name is on the door. Baglio-Calini.

Your door will have Scuderi on it.

That's just next door.

Then we are neighbours.

And we didn't even know it.

Neither of us knew that we were neighbours.

My room is somewhat larger.

Your room is larger?

You'll see.

The cupboard takes up a lot of room.

I know, I have the same one.

It's a big one. It belongs to me.

Everything is mine except for the drawers.

Look at this pretty little model.

It's a radio.

I like this mirror.

We can listen to the radio,

it works.

I have a soft spot for Verdi.

Besides, I have Bellini,

he comes from Sicily, as I do.

I love Verdi

as if he were one of the family.

He's closer to us.

And all those beautiful operas

he has bequeathed to us.

I made my début in Verdi's Trovatore.

Trovatore and then Othello!

Othello is nice, too.

I find it more stimulating.

I prefer it.

Both operas

are deeply moving.

Othello is rarely beautiful.

Where do you find a good Othello?

Difficult.

There used to be many of them,

nowadays you're lucky to find one.

That's why it hardly gets played.

Because they can't find one.

Desdemona, on the other hand, is easy.

Anyone can sing that part.

But the role of Othello is terrible.

Iago is difficult, too.

A baritone would probably do.

Othello, that's the role.

This composition called Little Nocturne,

from the author Puligheddu,

was written when I was 11 years old.

I only obtained the author's rights

after coming of age.

That's because author rights weren't given to kids.

It was published in America and made quite a lot of money.

This is End of a Dream, for orchestra.

I was already a professor...

professor of composition at that time.

This was at 19 years old,

when I wrote my first opera:

The White Fly. That's the full score.

I had blonde hair then,

not white as I do now.

Here is a diploma

with the picture of Pope John,

the pontiff who presided over this academy.

Let's go over to the other side.

Here are two

professional recording machines.

I improvise,

that's why I need two machines.

If one roll breaks down,

it's lost, because you can't repeat

an improvisation.

This cable transfers it

to the other machine.

I possess over 1.000 compositions, sonatas, improvisations...

I have this melody in my head

which I would like to develop further.

It's like a speaker

talking without notes

because he knows his subject.

Other people need notes.

I never made notes of any of my thousands of compositions,

because they were all improvised and taped.

It's God's gift.

I have studied a lot,

I have 5 diplomas from the Milan Conservatory.

But I can thank the heavens

for my talent in improvisation,

because it's extraordinary.

A godsend. I don't take any merit for it.

Now I'll play you something melodic,

a kind of Nocturne fantasy.

All these nice things,

in the social world,

and that I'm showing you,

don't interest me anymore nowadays.

These documents, for example.

Here's an academic collar.

"His Excellency Puligheddu."

The academy of Belina,

which is 187 years old.

In this article they wrote:

"Why am I in the FANEL?"

The FANEL is a theatrical organisation.

At first, I did not trust it,

until I realised that

it had many advantages for singers.

Here, I explain why I joined.

Here they ask: "Who is professor Puligheddu?"

Here is a newspaper that talks

about me, about my diplomas...

"Has distinguished himself in Italy and abroad

by his musical and didactic activities."

This medal

was coined by the State.

There's my "secretary". I always write letters with the machine.

I write a great deal. Whole pages.

I have a lot of friends and relationships,

because I have travelled all over Europe.

I have friends everywhere.

I cannot leave them in the dark

without any news.

There you see a picture of Christ.

From nearby,

the eyes seem to be closed,

but from further away they are open.

The diploma of Cenacolo,

honorary doctor.

My violin diploma,

from the Milan Academy.

I was given a mark of 8,50.

It's legalised.

The academic diploma of the U.S.A.

I can prove it,

it could be a forgery, after all.

These articles here with my photo...

The Order of the Knight of the Cross.

This is the picture of Pope...

Pope Pius XII,

who blesses this order.

What are you playing?

I'm making it up.

Right now, I'm composing

a nocturnal melody.

Look at this, they published this

with my name, all in English.

"One of the best Italian musicians."

"Lives in Rome."

"Born in Sassari."

"Composer, choirmaster,

conductor..."

All this proves

that the diploma is authentic.

Would you prefer something else?

A minuet, a Neapolitan or an oriental melody?

You choose. And I will give

my imagination full scope.

Come on, choose.

Oriental?

Right, let's see.

I have to imagine a pattern.

A dance, oriental colours.

A little movement is needed.

The appearance of dancing spirits.

Then back to the pathos

of an oriental panorama.

All the best.

Merry Christmas.

A Happy New Year.

[G. Puccini, Tosca, Atto 2]

Tosca, mine at last!

Help me, I'm dying!

Help me!

Die, you wretch, die!

Die! Die!

That is Tosca's kiss!

I'm dying!

♪ He's dead.

♪ I forgive him.

Can I get up?

Just a minute.

♪ Entire Rome

♪ trembled before him!

♪ Where have they hidden her?

♪ I want my daughter back.

♪ A victory without triumph.

♪ You will return her to me.

I thought he was dead.

I beg your pardon, I thought you were dead.

♪ Courtiers, damned race!

[G. Verdi, Rigoletto, Atto 2, Scena 4]

♪ You would barter me away,

♪ my goods and chattels.

♪ You would do anything for gold.

♪ But how priceless and precious to me

♪ is my little daughter.

With the participation of

and with

and the entire Casa Verdi.

We thank

LIANA LARI, President of the "Giuseppe Verdi" Old People's Home for Musicians

GIULIETTA SIMIONATO, President of the "Friends of the Casa Verdi" Association

DR. AMBROGIO NOVA Director

Laboratory EGLI FILM, ZURICH

Sound studio SONOR FILM, OSTERMUNDIGEN

Mixing LUC YERSIN, PETER BEGERT

With contributions from:

The Federal Department of Home Affairs

The Federation of Migros Cooperatives