If we page through the writing for Violetta, assuming everything to be sung in key—with no important deviations from the text in range, dynamic markings, articulations, note values, or even in the ratio of sustained to florid passages—we see little distinction between this part and the leading soprano roles of the preceding two Verdi operas we tend to group with this one—Leonora in Il Trovatore and Gilda in Rigoletto. Certainly Gilda’s tessitura lies slightly higher, with fewer opportunities to touch down into prescribed chest voice territory. But the variation is not as great as we might suppose. It is the differences in these characters’ personalities, social standing, and age, and to some extent in the weight of instrumentation and coloring of the opera’s scores, that makes it unusual for one soprano to embrace all three. Maria Callas and Joan Sutherland were, I should say, the last to do so with some claim to plausibility. In Violetta’s case, the old saw that the part requires “two voices” originates from the obvious fact that Act 1 demands a fairly high degree of florid execution, with brilliant tone, while the rest of the opera calls for sustained lyrical expression of a passionate nature with predominantly melancholy, even morbid tone. But shouldn’t these be simply the attributes of one very good singing actress? In his mind’s ear, didn’t Verdi hear them being realized more or less in full as he wrote all those notes? He was not a fantasist, after all, but a very practical artist who by this time had learned his real-world lessons about the singing of his time and place.

The Act 1 challenges of mobility and high-end extension for Violetta are, for sure, considerable. The highest notes are D-flats, all taken in passing, which is not to say they are easy, since they occur either when launched from below to initiate a descending scale and flourish (coming out of “gioir!“) or at the tops of series of progressively higher descending scales at high velocity, of which they are again the initiating notes, and need to be struck strongly and instantaneously. The highest sustained notes are Cs, of which the pulsing repeated ones on “dee volar” tell us the most about the centering and freedom of the voice at that altitude (unless we follow the score literally at “sempre lieta ne ritro-o-VI,” thus passing upward from a trilled G on “tro-” to a sustained C on “-vi.” Few sopranos will accept that invitation). The tempo is quick, and the writing full of crush notes, short trilled notes, chains of duplets, and so on, all quite suggestive of a more elaborated example of the strengths a Gilda should possess for the Vendetta duet or the Storm Trio. And of course an easy limberness and alacrity is indicated throughout the opening act, in the tracery of the Brindisi, or the leggero flights up and over the B-flat, then A-flat, in the duet with Alfredo (traditionally rendered first at a supple, legato mezzo-forte, then at piano).

So these high-end and upper-middle demands are real—but not of a sort, I should think, that would have cowed sopranos of high rank brought up on the bel canto repertory. They weren’t daunted by the low end and lower-middle, either, to judge from the writing. Violetta’s very first little speech ends (at “la notte che resta“) with a descent right down through the passaggio (E, D#, C#) that can end decisively only by drawing in the chest register, and a page later she’s declaring that “il piacere m’affido” on repeated Es, which will pass by unremarked unless supported by at least a light chest blend. She again moves down through the passaggio, this time to C-natural, in her reply to Alfredo’s “Un dì, felice” at “Un così eroica amore,” the light mockery of which won’t emerge without chest participation. And it’s always one of my hopes, not many bars later, to hear a true meeting of souls as Violetta comes down to the F on “dimenticarmi allor” while Alfredo moves up to it on “delizia al cor“—same pitch, same vowel, he at mezza-voce in his upper-middle range, she touching into light chest in her lower-middle, which in well-balanced voices will produce a perfect timbral match. She’s met him at the crossing, no matter what the words say. This same F is also the key note of the Brindisi, from which its verses are launched, and to which it repeatedly returns. It must be centered and firm in both the tenor and soprano voices, and we must hear all its turnings in the context of the Italian language, whose clear, open vowels forbid blurrings. Finally, there is a low end to all the high passagework of the “Sempre libera.” The outburst that announces Violetta’s willed change of mood, at “di voluttà ne’ vortici,” ends emphatically on the low E-flat and D, and the upward runs on “dee volar,” in response to Alfredo’s offstage calls, start on the same low  E-flat.