Ah… Naples. One of the most gorgeous cities in all of Italy, known across the world not only for its fine architecture and food… but also for its music! The song tradition of Naples and its surrounding countryside is a rich one, stretching back hundreds of years. There are three Neapolitan standards, however, which stand out from the rest, songs which will endure long after others have been forgotten: O sole mio, Mattinata, and Torna a Surriento. Journey with us as we delve into the history of these timeless classics of Italian song…
O sole mio was written in 1898, with lyrics penned by Giovanni Capurro and music by Eduardo di Capua and Alfredo Mazzucchi. Despite the immense popularity it has gained over the years by way of reinventing itself through countless alternate language renditions, it is sung most often in the original Neapolitan language most frequently.
“O sole mio” can be translated to the standard Italian “Il mio sole”, meaning “My sunshine”. Notable artists who have covered this song include Mario Lanza, Andrea Bocelli, and Enrico Caruso. But no performer has derived nearly so much commercial success from the song as did Luciano Pavarotti, who won the 1980 Grammy Award for Best Classical Vocal Performance for his rendition of O sole mio.
For nearly 75 years after its publication, the music of O sole mio was attributed to Eduardo di Capua alone. Then, in November 1972, the daughter of Alfredo Mazzucchi lodged a declaration with Italy’s Office of Literary, Artistic and Scientific Property, seeking to have her father recognised as a co-composer of 18 Neapolitan songs credited to di Capua.
According to Mazzucchi’s daughter’s testament, O sole mio was one of twenty three songs which di Capua purchased from her father. It was only through a slight process of elaboration on Mazzucchi’s original melody that di Capua was able to forge one of the most iconic Italian songs of all time. There had been written authorisation on the part of Mazzucchi, granting di Capua permission to make free use of the melodies, but thankfully in October of 2002 Judge Maria Alvau ruled in favor of Mazzucchi being O sole mio’s legitimate co-composer.
Mattinata was composed by Ruggero Leoncavallo in 1904, and maintains the honor of having been the first song ever written expressly for the Gramophone Company (today known worldwide as EMI). Dedicated to Enrico Caruso, the famed operatic vocalist who first recorded it with Leoncvallo on the piano, this piece has become a concert favourite of tenors worldwide and a staple of their Italian repertoire.
Warner Brothers published a cover of the song as performed by Emilio Pericoli in 1964, and in 1982 the Costa Rican band “Gaviota” recorded a Spanish version arranged by Carlos Guzmán Bermúdez for CBS Indica Records. The song describes “the dawn, dressed in white” and “opening the door to the sun”. It paints a portrait of flowers, of nature as being disturbed by “a mysterious trembling”, framed by the singer’s impassioned plea of “where you are not, there is no light” as they bid adieu to their beloved while bathed in the colors of sunrise.
The juxtaposition of Mattinata’s melancholic farewell speech with the hopeful imagery of sunrise is poignant and touching in a way that few other Italian art songs can match. The raw passion infused in the final lyric “Where you are, love is born” speaks of a love that we all hope to experience before we too must sail away on the white light of dawn.
Its melody composed in 1894 by the Italian musician Ernesto De Curtis, Torna a surriento is a Neapolitan song whose lyrics were written years afterward by the composer’s brother: poet and painter Giambattista De Curtis. Receiving its official copyright in 1905, Torna a surriento has grown over time to become one of the most popular songs of this traditional genre. The song’s title translates from Italian as “Turn towards Sorrento”, and has been regarded as the city’s unofficial anthem for decades
Tradition maintains that the origin of the song in its completed form can be traced to 1902, when Guglielmo Tramontano (then the mayor of Sorrento, Italy) asked his friend Giambattista De Curtis to compose a song the song for Prime Minister Giuseppe Zanardelli. The Prime Minister had been vacationing at the largest seaside hotel in Sorrento at that time, the Imperial Hotel Tramontano.
Giambattista De Curtis met with his brother Ernesto that very day, and the latter was finally met with an opportunity to flesh out the melody he had been sitting on for the better part of eight years. The combined efforts of the De Curtis brothers produced a song which celebrated Zanardelli’s stay in Sorrento, but many music historians claim that the song’s lyrics reveal an alternate thematic agenda…
In fact, Torna a surriento might not be a song meant for toasting Prime Minister Zanardelli at all. It is more likely that the song represents something of a veiled plea to Zanardelli to keep his promise to help the impoverished city of Sorrento, which at the time of the song’s composition was especially in need of a sewage system. Reflecting on the beauty of Sorrento’s surroundings, as well as the love and passion of its citizens, Giambattista may have been trying to curry favor for the municipality he belonged to. While no record exists of whether or not Zanardelli liked the song, or even if Sorrento got a new sewage system out of the deal, it is known that Torna a surriento began its life in 1894 and has inspired legions of listeners since.
All three of these Neapolitan gems prove that a song is more than what you hear or what you see on a page. It is irrefutable evidence of humanity, that someone, somewhere, has cared enough about something to commit their poetic views, emotions, and inspirations on a piece of paper… hopefully to spread joy to many people across the globe. Neapolitan music certainly accomplishes this feat with gusto, so that no matter where you are you can instantly be transported to that land of canals and fine wine every time you hear the lilting phrases of its proud musical heritage.