County of statue: Independent City of St. Louis
LOcation of bust:
Center Circle, Tower Grove Park, St. Louis
Artist: Unknown - Ross C. Adams, sculptor. (copy after) &
Carlo Nicoli, sculptor. (copy after)
Architect: George Ingham Barnett, 1815-1898
Giuseppe Verdi, in full Giuseppe Fortunino Francesco Verdi (born October 9/10, 1813, Roncole, near Busseto, duchy of Parma [Italy]—died January 27, 1901, Milan, Italy), leading Italian composer of opera in the 19th century, noted for operas such as Rigoletto (1851), Il trovatore (1853), La traviata (1853), Don Carlos (1867), Aida (1871), Otello (1887), and Falstaff (1893) and for his Requiem Mass (1874).
Proper Description: Bust of Verdi featuring a gilded inscription. Bust rests on a pedestal consisting of a limestone capital atop a polished Missouri red granite column on a limestone base. ~ Smithsonian American Art Museum
Remarks: "This bust is a replacement of the original marble bust that was commissioned by Henry Shaw and made in 1886 by Carlo Nicoli and Ross C. Adams (see IAS 76001108). Shaw funded the original at a cost of $725. This replacement bust sits on the original pedestal, which was designed by George Ingham Barnett. For information related to the original bust, see book by George McCue, "Sculpture City: St. Louis," New York: Hudson Hills Press, Inc., 1988. IAS files contain material related to the original bust." ~ Smithsonian American Art Museum
"Verdi’s father, Carlo Giuseppe Verdi, an innkeeper and owner of a small farm, gave his son the best education that could be mustered in a tiny village, near a small town of about 4,000 inhabitants, in the then-impoverished Po Valley. The child must have shown unusual talent, for he was given lessons from his fourth year, a spinet was bought for him, and by age 9 he was standing in for his teacher as organist in the village church. He attended the village school and at 10 the ginnasio (secondary school) in Busseto.
"Verdi overcame his despair by composing Nabucodonoser (composed 1841, first performed 1842; known as Nabucco), based on the biblical Nebuchadnezzar (Nebuchadrezzar II), though the well-known story he told later about snapping out of his lethargy only when the libretto fell open at the chorus “Va, pensiero”—by that time one of his most beloved works—is no longer credited. (The older Verdi embroidered on various aspects of his early life, exaggerating the lowliness of his origins, for example.) Nabucco succeeded as sensationally as Un giorno had failed abjectly, and Verdi at age 28 became the new hero of Italian music. The work sped across Italy and the whole world of opera; within a decade it had reached as far as St. Petersburg and Buenos Aires, Argentina. While its musical style is primitive by the composer’s later standards, Nabucco’s raw energy has kept it alive a century and a half later.
"The new richness and depth of Verdi’s musico-dramatic characterization in these years, especially though not exclusively of women, may have developed out of his relationship with Strepponi. She is often evoked in connection with the sympathetic and radiant portrayal of Violetta in La traviata (The Fallen Woman—a rough analogy, to be sure, for Violetta the courtesan had fallen a great deal farther than Strepponi the singer). Yet Verdi showed scant sympathy for the real-life woman when he determined to move back with her to Busseto in 1849 and then to Sant’Agata, where small-town outrage at their liaison reached a peak. For some time he refused to allow her to accompany him on his many travels, which left her alone in a very hostile environment. He himself responded furiously to local censure and refused to have anything to do with Busseto and its musical activities, having first scrupulously repaid with interest the contribution made by the commune to his musical education.
"Verdi had become an international celebrity, and the change in his status was reflected in his art. From 1855 to 1870 he devoted himself to providing works for the Opéra at Paris and other theatres conforming to the Parisian operatic standard, which demanded spectacular dramas on subjects of high seriousness in five acts with a ballet. He was pointedly challenging Giacomo Meyerbeer, the one European composer more renowned and wealthier than he was, on Meyerbeer’s own ground. While these operas show advances in many areas and include superb scenes, none of them is as satisfactory as a whole as any of the three great operas of the early 1850s.
"His first essay in the new manner, Les Vêpres siciliennes (1855; The Sicilian Vespers), is a rather cold piece that has had only lukewarm success from its premiere on. The fault lay partly in the libretto—by Meyerbeer’s own librettist, the poet Eugène Scribe; Scribe merely refashioned an old piece he had written for Gaetano Donizetti.
"Two pieces for Italian theatres, Simon Boccanegra (1857) and Un ballo in maschera (1859; A Masked Ball), affected to a lesser extent by the impact of the grand operatic style, show the enrichment of Verdi’s power as an interpreter of human character and as a master of orchestral colour. Boccanegra, despite a gloomy and excessively complex plot, includes powerful scenes and creates a special windswept atmosphere appropriate to its Genoese pirate protagonist. (Verdi often spoke of the unique tinta [“colour”] of each of his operas.) Much more successful with the public was Ballo, a romantic version of the assassination of Gustav III of Sweden—even though again the censorship barred the murder of a king and so made nonsense of the story, its setting transported from 18th-century Stockholm to Puritan Boston, a hundred years earlier. These years also saw Aroldo (1857), an unsuccessful revision of Stiffelio (1850).
"When Gioachino Rossini, the most revered figure in modern Italian music, died in 1868, Verdi proposed that a requiem mass in his honour be composed by himself and a dozen of his contemporaries. The project collapsed and Angelo Mariani, who was to have conducted the performance, seemed to Verdi less than wholehearted in his support. Verdi, who could not bear being thwarted, visited his wrath on the unfortunate Mariani, who was the most distinguished Italian conductor of the day and, until then, had been one of his closest friends. The quarrel shows both Verdi and Giuseppina at their worst. Verdi could never forgive an injury, real or imagined, as attested to by his lifelong hatred of La Scala and its audience, which had rejected Un giorno di regno, and his contempt for the town of Busseto. The breach with Mariani widened when the conductor refused to go to Cairo to direct the first performance of Aida. He pleaded illness and was indeed suffering terribly from cancer, of which he died in 1873. Things reached a very ugly pitch when a scurrilous newspaper story accused Verdi of stealing Mariani’s fiancée, the soprano Teresa Stolz." ~ Complete Text at Encyclopedia Britannica