DOI Kapitel:
Chapter I: Naples
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.59000#0055
Naples
a delicate national vein is heard, which, becoming
extinct, would be followed by nothing but imitations
from other countries. For long past there has existed
here in the South a school of song which is quite
unique ; into it any introduction of orchestration is
fatal. The mandolin, the guitar, the castanets,—these
are their natural instruments ; and, strange as it may
seem to critics, the rich and untrained voice, when
accompanied only by these simple instruments, has a
wild charm of its own, quickly lost in the midst of a
more complicated orchestra. The violin, badly or
indifferently played, has done more to destroy the
charm of the native melodies than anything I know of.
The music and songs of the tarantella are rarely
heard in Naples now, save by visitors at the hotels.
Absurd bands of men and women, overdressed, and
with exasperatingly sharp voices, still entertain them
of an evening. But listening to noisy stamping on
parquet floors in overheated rooms, hearing the native
songs accompanied by the town orchestra, is highly
ridiculous. Only at Sorrento the tarantella still keeps
something of its old charm. Of an evening the dancers
take their places in the open courtyard of the hotel.
Their background is a garden of orange and lemon
trees and flowers, the breath of which perfumes the air
deliciously. The stars twinkle in the dark blue sky, and
the whole scene is lovely and poetical. The women are
dressed in bright costumes of red and green, with white
muslin aprons. Beads of glass are round their necks ;
gold and coral gleam in their ears. The figures are
18
a delicate national vein is heard, which, becoming
extinct, would be followed by nothing but imitations
from other countries. For long past there has existed
here in the South a school of song which is quite
unique ; into it any introduction of orchestration is
fatal. The mandolin, the guitar, the castanets,—these
are their natural instruments ; and, strange as it may
seem to critics, the rich and untrained voice, when
accompanied only by these simple instruments, has a
wild charm of its own, quickly lost in the midst of a
more complicated orchestra. The violin, badly or
indifferently played, has done more to destroy the
charm of the native melodies than anything I know of.
The music and songs of the tarantella are rarely
heard in Naples now, save by visitors at the hotels.
Absurd bands of men and women, overdressed, and
with exasperatingly sharp voices, still entertain them
of an evening. But listening to noisy stamping on
parquet floors in overheated rooms, hearing the native
songs accompanied by the town orchestra, is highly
ridiculous. Only at Sorrento the tarantella still keeps
something of its old charm. Of an evening the dancers
take their places in the open courtyard of the hotel.
Their background is a garden of orange and lemon
trees and flowers, the breath of which perfumes the air
deliciously. The stars twinkle in the dark blue sky, and
the whole scene is lovely and poetical. The women are
dressed in bright costumes of red and green, with white
muslin aprons. Beads of glass are round their necks ;
gold and coral gleam in their ears. The figures are
18