In Phrase Two, Nézet-Séguin pauses to examine the second syllable of “ri-PO-so,” a little leap of a fifth to the upper G-sharp.  (The context here is his general admonishment that the singer not give her fullest voice all the time, a concept which is inarguable in the abstract, but whose validity depends on the effect of each micro-event like this one.) N-S wants this sung less directly than our soprano has given it. He is not asking for a subito piano, which some singers of authoritative technique do opt for, but for an easing into the note before letting it blossom. There’s no right or wrong to the idea—it’s only a preference. In its favor, assuming expert execution, is a nuanced lyrical moment on the word “repose.”  By way of contraindication, however, is the fact that Verdi, a composer much given to dramatic articulations, has written none, not even a dynamic marking, in these paired opening phrases. He has indicated tempo (a return to the largo of the opening) and has entered a general instruction, larga la frase, but nothing more, which to me suggests a rather granitic, almost ritualistic, statement notable for its absence of nuance. But as I say, it’s a preference, so I simply note N-S’s as we move on.

And now there’s a shift, and we are riding on one of Verdi’s arcing soprano lines, delicately accompanied and marked “espressivo” and “molto dolce“: “If there is weeping in Heaven, weep for my sadness, and bear my sorrow to the throne of The Lord.” These last words are then repeated, in a grandioso phrase that sweeps up through the high A#; and that ends the A section of the aria. Nézet-Séguin stops on the first ascending phrase, “S’ancor in cielo si piange,” to ask that it be sung in a more “naturally” flowing manner, rather than in a “held-back” one—again a preference to be checkmarked. In passing, N-S observes that the “ch” of “cielo” is getting in the way. And this is true, the only problem being that with the solution comes a lack of definition, which N-S does not pause to address. (I’m sure there’s more than one way, but I’d be tempted to suggest a silent “t” before the “c,” formed in an old Italian way with the tip of the tongue lightly between the teeth rather than on the gum ridge, so that there is no puff of air or rigidity in the tongue, and possibly augmented by the merest hint if the “i” of “cielo.” The definition of the consonant helps keep the word stitched to the line.) With conductorial body language, N-S encourages the “marcate” accents the singer is observing on the triplet eighths of “del Signor” (good), and elicits an improved response by emphasizing that the high note is not a single point of arrival, but part of a malleable shape with a destination farther along. Singers of the old tradition might in fact have cheated the A# slightly to carry the voice on a portamento right into the finish of the phrase (“porta al trono del Signor“), without a breath. Our soprano chooses not to do that, and her cut-off on the A# is a bit clipped, as it is again on the F# of “tro-NO” in the next bar (and why a breath there?). These breaks for breath and abrupt releases are much more the problem with the shapes of these phrases than the fullness of the top note,  but N-S does not address this.