Deborah Burton

The Puccini Code

Abstract
Written in the style of novelist Dan Brown and using actual quotations from Pucci-
ni’s letters and other documents, the author creates the characters Prof. Segugio and
her assistant Christie Hunter who explore Puccini’s compositional practices in the
unfinished opera Turandot. They work toward solving the riddles of Puccini’s tech-
nique – parallel constructions, abrupt changes in texture and style, a sense of tonal
coherence in polytonal or atonal settings – by reading contemporary and modern
critics and by closely examining the scores. Prof. Segugio ultimately sorts Puccini’s
unusual techniques into two compositional types: direct and indirect conflation, two
forms of layering that combine to create a score with a diatonic basis and modernistic
elements added. Documentary evidence supporting these conclusions is found in an
unpublished note by the composer, at Yale’s Beinecke Rare Book Library, and in a
rare sketch for Turandot’s finale with written indications by the composer.

To the reader: this article is written in the style of author Dan Brown. Some liberties
with actual fact have been taken to accomplish this.
The wan winter’s light filtering through the hospital shades was fading fast. Giaco-
mo Puccini, the composer of La Bohème, Tosca, Madama Butterfly and many other
operas had seven radium needles inserted into his throat [Girardi 2000, 438] and
a food tube was laced down his nose [Phillips-Matz, 2002, 301]. As a patient of
Professor Ledoux, one of only two specialists in 1924 claiming to have a radiation
treatment for advanced throat cancer, his bed was in the clinic on Avenue de la
Couronne in Brussels [Phillips-Matz 2002, 299]. Sketches for his still unfinished
opera Turandot lay scattered to one side.
Puccini could not speak, although he had mouthed «Fosca, I’m going to pull
through!»1 to his step-daughter just the other day, and he could write. He tried

1. «Fosca, me la cavo» [ibid., 302].

 Deborah Burton

to keep his spirits up for his many visitors – even the Italian ambassador and the
Papal nuncio Monsignor Micara had paid a call – but he was in excruciating pain
[ibid., 298]. It feels like I have bayonets in my throat [ibid., 301], he thought.
He had premonitions of an untimely death and leaving his magnum opus Tu-
randot almost, but not quite, done. The opera will be performed incomplete, and then
someone will come on stage and tell the audience: “At this point Maestro Puccini died”
[Girardi 2000, 438], he imagined, and maybe Micara will even return to give me last
rites!
The composer glanced to his left: the nurse, Sister Herman-Joseph, was turning
on the lamp now that evening had descended. On his bedside table lay the Tu-
randot sketches. The final love duet – the culmination of the work in which love
conquers the Princess Turandot’s fears and melts her iciness – was still to be done.
He must write to librettist Renato Simoni about the duet! It was still not what he
wanted. I see darkness, he thought, we must find a way out, because now I am in a
terrible situation.2
If I don’t live to finish this, then will someone else be able to do it? The poor soul
who would take on such a thankless task would be able to see the 25 or so manu-
script leaves he had with him now, plus an annotated libretto, and a few more frag-
ments of musical sketches. And I played through parts of the ending for Toscanini...
[Maehder 1985, 83-84]. Perhaps someone would be able to complete the opera,
and bring Turandot to life. But only if they truly understood my work. With that
thought in mind, Puccini grabbed a pencil and made a few annotations on one of
the sketches. Maybe that will help.

***

Ding! The professor’s iPhone signaled an incoming text message, but her atten-
tion was still focused on watching youtube: it showed the conclusion of Turandot,
completed in 2001 by Luciano Berio for the Salzburg Festival. The three attempts
at completing the opera that were known to her – Franco Alfano’s, performed just
a few months after Puccini’s death, Janet Maguire’s, written in the 1980s but never
performed onstage, and the most recent one by Berio – were valiant efforts and all
were based upon the autograph sketch material. But, she admitted, not one really
sounded like Puccini had written it.
Turandot’s plot revolves around three riddles that the princess suitors must
answer, or lose their heads. But the real mystery of the opera is how it should

2. «Io vedo buio. […] E bisogna sortirne perché ora ho l’acqua alla gola»; letter from Puccini to Giuseppe
Adami, dated September 7, 1924 [Adami 1928/1982, 193].

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 The Puccini Code

have ended. Puccini never expounded, as did other composers, on his aesthetics
or compositional techniques. In fact, he was very secretive about it all. There must
be a means of discovering how he composed, the professor thought.
Professor Segugio had examined all 23 autograph manuscript leaves that Alfano
had seen. They had been separated into four groups, and some had annotations
on both sides, totaling 36 pages of sketches [Fairtile 2004, 167]. Although much
of the writing would have been illegible to most musicologists, the professor was
accustomed to Puccini’s scrawl. Her interest now lay not in deciphering the indi-
vidual notes, rhythms, instrument indications and tempo markings, all of which
would have been part of a finished score. But, rather, she searched for comments
the composer had written for himself, something that would give a clue to how he
was going to proceed. But, aside from a few that simply read «find a melody»,3
there was only one such annotation.
On sketch number 17 for the finale Puccini had written «Poi Tristano» or
«then Tristan». Clearly, he was planning to follow this music with a quote from
Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. But this was well known: years ago, Teodoro Celli
had published one of two articles about the Turandot sketches, concluding that
Puccini was going to use the unaccompanied Mariner’s theme (Frisch weht der
Wind der Heimath zu) from Tristan’s first scene at this point [Celli 1985, 57]. Jür-
gen Maehder had also pointed out that the text that would have accompanied
this reference to Tristan, was thematically related to the longing for death in the
Wagner opus [Maehder 1985, 105].
Even so, the professor thought that a more pressing dramatic theme at this fi-
nal moment is that of Love, and that the «Tristano» to which Puccini refers is
actually the Liebesruhe [Love’s Rest] Leitmotiv from Tristan’s Act II, which had
already been used in the opera’s opening, where it is shown with a resolution to F+
minor (Ex. 1a and 1b). The motive is very adaptable to different pitch collections
and could fit both the diatonicism of the Wagner setting, one by Richard Strauss
in F major (Ex. 1c) and a nearly whole-tone one by Dukas (Ex. 1d) from Ariane et
Barbe-Bleu [Celli 1985, 63].

Ex. 1a. R. Wagner, Tristan und Isolde, “Liebesruhe” Leitmotiv.

3. «trovare melodia».

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 Deborah Burton

Ex. 1b. G. Puccini, Turandot, opening.

Ex. 1c. R. Strauss, Till Eulenspiegel, opening.

Ex. 1d. P. Dukas, Ariane et Barbe-Bleu, III/69.

But this reference to Tristan doesn’t really help, she thought. Puccini’s wagneri-
smo has been well known for a long time. In fact, almost every opera of his con-
tains some quote from a Wagner work [Burton 2012, 3-16]. And Puccini was not
alone in his admiration for Wagner: most of Puccini’s contemporaries (known,
like the previous generation of Boito and Faccio, as the giovane scuola, the “young
school”) were also passionate about the German musical revolutionary, while still
living in the country of his rival, the Italian hero Verdi. Mascagni had made clear
in a letter to a friend the relative importance to him of both influences, and which
had the more far-reaching influence: «Otello [is] by the father of maestros», he
underlined, «I am speaking of Italian maestros since you know how much I admi-
re Wagner as the father of all maestros past and future».4 Besides, Puccini would

4. «Otello è del Papà dei Maestri. Parlo sempre dei Maestri italiani, poiché tu sai quanto stimo il Vagner
come Papà di tutti i maestri presenti e futuri»; letter from Pietro Mascagni to Vittorio Gianfranceschi,
dated April 8, 1887, housed at the Biblioteca della Scala, Milan.

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 The Puccini Code

never have composed the end of Turandot in a truly Wagnerian style: he had his
own fully developed techniques. But no one – especially not the composer himself
– had ever really revealed them.
There are many more riddles here too, the professor realised. First of all, despite
all sorts of strange chord constructions, dissonances (possibly even atonality) and
abrupt interruptions, Puccini’s scores still seem to coherently hang together au-
rally, as if they were traditional tonal pieces. More specifically, his music is full of
parallel constructions without a clear bass line – what James Hepokoski called pa-
rallel “non-voice-leading” [Hepokoski 2004, 241]. Puccini frequently uses parallel
tritones, sevenths, ninths, and he was so well known for his empty parallel fifths
that one French critic described La Bohème as «La Vide Bohème».5
And Turandot is full of parallels: in the first act alone, there are parallel octaves
and fifths at I/9/9,6 chromatically descending parallel triads on the musical surface
at I/18/13; parallel seventh chords at I/25/18, and parallel ninths at I/39/11. Later
in the opera, we hear parallel 4/2 chords over a pedal at II/10/12, and at III/28/6
are found parallel quartal harmonies.
These parallels probably became known to Puccini in two ways: one was his
early training in Italian solfeggio (where bass scales were played while elaborated
soprano variations were improvised by voice) [Baragwanath 2011, 270-271] and
the other was the Modernist rebellion against traditional norms. The prohibition
against parallels in La Bohème made even the critic Eduard Hanslick fly into a rage.
Hanslick had exclaimed: «In the most diverse scenes arise columns of ascending
and descending parallel fifths of such obtrusive ugliness – preferably blared “mar-
catissimo” by trumpets – that one asks oneself in vain what the composer wanted
to accomplish with these rude monstrosities?».7 The critic obviously preferred
more traditional voice-leading.
Dr. Segugio smirked: these are just bass-less accusations! Even Verdi had used
parallel 4/2 chords in La Forza del Destino and Don Carlos [Sanguinetti 2004, 235]
– it was really nothing that new. But even if the bass line is missing, a standard
prolongation can still be implied if not actually heard. Just look at the cases where
Puccini repeats the melody but with a varied, non-parallel bass. At the beginning
of the tenor aria Ch’ella mi creda from La Fanciulla, for instance, the outer voices

5. «The empty Bohème, a pun on “La vie di Bohème”» [Gauthier-Villars 1902].

6. All score indications are Act/Rehearsal Number/Bars after Rehearsal Number; so the first bar of an
opera would be I/0/0.
7. «Da erheben sich in den verschiedensten Scenen Kolonnen auf und niedersteigender paralleler Quinten
von so aufdringlicher Hässlichkeit – am liebsten “marcatissimo” von Trompeten geblasen! – dass man
sich vergebens fragt, was denn der Komponist mit diesen ungezogenen Scheusälchen bezwecken
mochte?». Eduard Hanslick, Die moderne Oper, viii, Berlin 1899, pp. 81-83; quoted in English translation
in Groos-Parker 1986, 135.

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 Deborah Burton

are parallel, with I, III and V filled in with root-position chords. If it were not for
the parallel voice leading, this progression would be a standard diatonic one. But
at the repetition, Puccini writes a non-parallel, traditional functional bass line (I-
vi-ii-V-I), implying a prolongation of the tonic (Ex. 2a and 2b). So perhaps, she
thought, this is one reason Puccini’s music makes some sense as tonal music!

Ex. 2a. G. Puccini, La Fanciulla del West, III/26/0: parallel outer voices.

Ex. 2b. G. Puccini, La Fanciulla del West, III/27/0: non-parallel voice-leading for same melody.

But parallels are only part of the picture, the professor countered to herself: a
more fundamental issue is whether “Turandot” is tonal or not. Critics have held dif-
fering opinions on the traditional tonal and modern atonal qualities of the opera
[Salvetti 1991, 275; Stoianova 1985, 202; Ashbrook-Powers 1991, 6-7, 13; Budden
2005, 446; Davis 2010, 171-172]. Puccini himself had said, «Don’t think that I’m
a traditionalist!» after hearing Schönberg’s Pierrot Lunaire while he was working
on Turandot.8 Even so, he had also sounded like just a traditionalist when he com-
plained to one of his Turandot librettists, Renato Simoni, «Nobody writes melody
any more, or if they do it is vulgar. They believe that “symphonism” should reign,
whereas I think that would be the end of opera. In Italy they used to sing; now
no more. Blows, discordant chords, false expression, transparency, opalescence,
8. «Non penserai ch’io sia un passatista!» [Marotti 1959, 56-57].

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 The Puccini Code

lymphatism. All Celtic diseases, a real pox from across the seas».9 But Puccini
himself writes hundreds of discordant chords – this makes no sense!
At that moment, the professor heard a knock on the office door. «Dr. Segu-
gio?» a muffled voice called out, and in came Christie Hunter, one of the profes-
sor’s graduate assistants. Christie had been helping with some Puccini research in
the libraries and on the Internet. «I think I’ve found an unusual interview from
the Turandot period», she said, handing over a few printed sheets. «Thanks»,
said Segugio, as she took the papers to quickly scan them. This is quite interesting,
she thought. Edoardo Savino had interviewed Puccini just six months before his
death. She kept reading:
Savino: Is the genre of music close to the preceding one?
Puccini: I believe that Turandot has its own physiognomy that has no comparison
with my other musical creatures. The soul of the author, however, does not chan-
ge, neither can style change, without becoming insincere. Therefore, it will still be
Puccinian.

What is Puccini saying here – that it is new, but not new?

Savino: Did you want to write an opera of a popular character or did you
want to bring about a new musical form?
Puccini: I told you: I am Puccini... I am, that is, what I sincerely am, even in
my Turandot.10

It would seem that Puccini wanted to have it both ways: the opera would sound
fresh, new and modern, but he would compose it the same way he had his earlier
works. How would that be possible? Could the music be old and new at the same time?
Segugio turned to Christie: «I seem to remember something related to this
in an article by Giorgio Sanguinetti. Do you remember which one?» – «Oh, it
must be his piece about the analyses of Puccini’s music by contemporary theo-
rists [Sanguinetti 2004, 221-248]. I’ll go find it». When Christie returned with the
article, the professor knew her hunch was correct: Sanguinetti had surveyed early

9. «La melodia non si fa più o, se si fa, è volgare. Si crede che il sinfonismo debba regnare e invece io
credo che è la fine dell’opera di teatro. In Italia si cantava, ora non più. Colpi, accordi discordi, finta
espressione, diafanismo, opalismo, linfatismo. Tutte le malattie celtiche, vera lue oltramontana» [Gara
1958, 524].
10. «ES: Il genere della musica si avvicina a quello precedente? GP: Credo di essermene allontanato. Ma di
questo non debbo essere giudice io, ma i critici, a suo tempo. Credo che Turandot abbia una fisionomia
sua propria che non trova riscontro nelle altre mie creature musicali. L’anima dell’autore però, non
muta, nè può mutare lo stile, a meno di non diventare insincero. Quindi sarà sempre del Puccini. [...] ES:
Ella ha voluto scrivere un’opera di carattere popolare oppure ha inteso realizzare una forma musicale
nuova? GP: Le ho detto: io sono Puccini... sono cioè, quello che sono sinceramente, anche in questa mia
Turandot» [Savino 1924].

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 Deborah Burton

20th-century theorists such as Luigi Parigi and Vito Frazzi about just this mixture
of old and new, and wrote that this idea «provides a clue to understanding Pucci-
ni’s musical language, which should not be ignored by those who intend to study
it today» [Sanguinetti 2004, 241].
Absolutely, thought Segugio, I’m going to take this clue and run with it!

***

The professor turned back to her computer, and easily found the original 1921 Pa-
ris essay on the Internet. It read:
The current Italian musical scene [...] is characterised by an anxiety to distance itself
from the old in order to move ahead. [...] It is really a question of a complete renew-
al irreconcilable with the faded ideals of the same consecrated representatives of the
old theatrical school: Puccini, Mascagni supposedly carried along with the current
and become revolutionaries. Rather than resisting, [...] they have jumped on board,
become followers and made themselves into modernists: in various directions and
ways, externally [...] to honourably throw off clothing in which they felt they were
by now suffocating. [...] They have vulgarised a form, an exteriority very close to real
“new music”.11

Music that is only new in its external appearance – like “clothing”? she thought.
Perhaps there is something in this...
Of course, Baragwanath had recently shown that traditional Italian patterns
could be found underneath some Puccini’s arias [Baragwanath 2011, 301]. Frazzi,
in a similar vein, had claimed that Puccini had only dressed up diatonic melodies
with chains of unusual harmonies [Frazzi 1948, 89], but Segugio knew this was an
overstatement. The chorus melodies from Turandot at I/15/0, Il lavoro mai non
langue, for example, were certainly not diatonic. Whole-tone melodies appeared
in Tosca, such as at I/48/14, when Cavaradossi describes the hidden well to An-
gelotti. And, in that same opera, Puccini had set Io dei sospiri in the Lydian mode.

11. «Il momento musicale italiano [...] è caratterizato da una ansietà di staccarsi dal vecchio per
andare avanti. [...] Che sia questione proprio di un integrale rinnovamento inconciliabile
con tramontati ideali lo provano gli stessi rappresentanti consacrati della vecchia scuola
teatrale: il Puccini, il Mascagni col loro farsi trasportar dalla corrente e col loro avvenuto
travolgimento. Anzichè resisterle, [...] l’hanno abbordata, l’hanno seguita e si son fatti
modernisti: in vario senso, in vario modo, esternamente [...] per far getto onorevolmente
di un abito nel quale si sentivano ormai soffocare. [...] Hanno volgarizzata una forma, una
esteriorità molto da presso a quella propria alle “nuove musiche”»; http://babel.hathitrust.
org/cgi/pt?q1=puccini;id=uc1.b4428515;view=1up;seq=27;start=1;size=10;page=search;num
=21+view=1up;seq=27. Accessed 10 June 2013.
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 The Puccini Code

Sanguinetti wrote too about another theorist, Domenico Alaleona, a musico-

logist and composer, as well as a theorist, who had taught music history at the
Conservatory of Santa Cecilia in Rome [Busnelli 1985, 217-219]. Alaleona had cor-
responded and worked with Puccini from about 1919, when he orchestrated Pucci-
ni’s Inno a Roma and they knew each other well enough then to use “carissimo” as
a form of address. Before that, however, in 1910 and 1911, when Alaleona published
his important theoretical articles, he was part of the Torinese circle of the journal
«Rivista Musicale Italiana», a publication quite unfriendly to Puccini.
Alaleona was interested in equal divisions of the octave (Ex. 3). He stated that
if the octave is divided equally into two tritones, it is “biphony” [bifonia]; if it is
divided equally into three major thirds, it becomes “triphony” [trifonia]; into four
minor thirds, “tetraphony” [tetrafonia]; into six whole tones, it is “hexaphony”
[esafonia]; and Alaleona even continued on to “dodecaphony” [dodecafonia].
Although part of his articles described innovative divisions of the octave, such as
“pentaphony” [pentafonia], Alaleona separated his new ideas from what he calls
«material previously known» [Alaleona 1911, 382-420].

Ex. 3. Domenico Alaleona’s equal divisions of the octave.

Alaleona also posited two different ways in which equal divisions of the octave
could be used: tonally and atonally. If the symmetrical construction, say an au-
gmented triad, resolves tonally, then it is the tonal form; if not, and if the chord is
used structurally (such as in a major-third cycle), then it is the atonal form. And,
in his one mention of Puccini (from La Fanciulla del West), he criticises the com-
poser for using the equal division of the octave only ornamentally, and not “poe-
tically”, by which he means structurally, as Sanguinetti pointed out [Sanguinetti,
2004, 240].
Again, the charge is one of superficial modernism, Segugio thought. But she knew
that Puccini did, in fact, use equal divisions of the octave in structural ways, not
just in Turandot, but throughout his oeuvre. An obvious example of a major-third
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 Deborah Burton

cycle (“triphony”) from Turandot could be heard right at the opening: we hear a
clear F+ minor at I/0/2, D minor in the bass at I/0/4 and B- minor at I/1/2. In the
second act, there is another at II/47, which moves from G- major to B- major to
D major (Ex. 4).

Ex. 4. G. Puccini, Turandot, II/47/0.

A minor third cycle (“tetraphony”) in Turandot can also be found at I/15/0, and
there are many abrupt tritone shifts (“biphony”). This happens between E- minor
and A minor at I/25/0, when Timur begs the Prince not to pursue Turandot’s
challenge, and also at III/35/0 after Liù’s cortège. Another is found just before the
confrontation between Calaf and the Emperor, from A- major to D Dorian.
Interesting!, thought Segugio, all of these instances are preceded by pauses. They
seem to delineate, not only key areas and structural units, but new events in the
dramatic narrative. Musical transitions, which usually sound so fluidly natural
in much of Puccini’s works (usually helped along by common tones or pedal
points), are missing here: as Andrew Davis has suggested, the formal seams seem
perceptible by design [Davis 2010]. This is part of the Puccinian mystery of abrupt
interruptions. And what could be more abrupt than a tritone shift? Segugio thought,
remembering the entrance of the dying Mimì in the last act of La Bohème, where
B- major shifts suddenly to E minor (Ex. 5).

Ex. 5. G. Puccini, La Bohème, IV/12/31.

All of these contemporary writers seemed to be hinting at more or less the same
thing, the professor concluded: that Puccini’s deeper structure was a traditional

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 The Puccini Code

one, ornamented by so-called modernisms. She would have to do more research.

Perhaps a trip to Yale, and its collection of Puccini manuscripts, would be a good idea...

***

The ride on Amtrak’s Acela Express train to New Haven took only two hours. The-
se newer trains had conference tables and electric outlets for recharging phones or
computers, Wi-Fi. And they looked modern, even if they couldn’t compare to the
wonderfully elegant European trains. And of course Amtrak service was always
riddled with delays.
But today, things were running smoothly. Prof. Segugio glanced up from her
Puccini scores and glanced out the sealed window at glimpses of the Connecticut
coastline and Long Island Sound. The sunlight reflecting on the water brought to
mind sunny summer days at Viareggio, not far from Puccini’s long-time home at
Torre del Lago. But back to “Turandot”!
On her lap was the Turandot piano-vocal score –­ the Ricordi edition with the
standard Alfano completion of the final duet and finale. She was looking at I/10/1,
an F+ minor tune with a lowered second scale degree: it almost sounded primitive.
Yet when this melody returns at II/25/6, it has an added pedal tone at the tritone,
which makes it sound much more modern. Perhaps this layering is what Parigi and
Frazzi thought of as external, thought Segugio (Ex. 6a and 6b).

Ex. 6a. G. Puccini, Turandot, I/10/1.

Ex. 6b. G. Puccini, Turandot, II/25/6.

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 Deborah Burton

That was a simple example, though. But what about the mysterious, dissonan-
ce “phantom chord” that appears at I/38/0? It was comprised of the following
pitches:
C-E- -E-F-F+-G+-A

While some of this sequence was an octatonic fragment (F-F+-G+-A), the voi-
cing of the chord did not seem to suggest this partial solution. Rather, the up-
permost and lowermost extremes notes of chord – F+-C and C-E-G+ – were all
whole-tone. The remainder (F-A-E- ) implied a F7 chord, which would also share
a C with the whole-tone collection (Ex. 7).

Ex. 7. G. Puccini, Turandot, I/38/0, direct conflation in the “phantom chord”.

This combining, or layering, of sonorities was something like others had no-
ticed in Puccini’s work before, Segugio remembered. Leukel had identified what
he called Schichten [Leukel 1983, 65 ff.] and Conati found “synchronic planes” [pi-
ani sincronici], in Il Trittico [Conati 2003, 146-160], no doubt inspired by Wag-
ner’s layers of Leitmotivs. Those instances from the Trittico, though, represented
multifocal moments when more than one event is happening onstage at the same
time, such as sailors singing offstage behind other onstage dialogue. Just like Act
II of La Bohème, when Musetta’s waltz in E major clashes with the arriving band
in B- major, these situations also carried implications of bitonality/polytonality.
The professor pondered, although the idea of layering or conflating different sonor-
ities is what Leukel and Conati describe, these modernistic, individual sonorities are
something different.
She then turned to the end of Liù’s beautiful aria, Signore, ascolta, at I/42/15
(Ex. 8). There is a chromatically rising line in the tenor: A- / B- - / B- / C- / C /
D- . Supporting that line is a strange, polytonal third layer of chords: A- minor, E- -
major, B- augmented, F- major, and E- - half-diminished seventh. But, the tonic
G- is prolonged with a pedal over four bars, as if it were a traditional diatonic coda.
The effect is magical, particularly coming between pentatonic passages, and with
the vocal line ascending to high B- .

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 The Puccini Code

Ex. 8. G. Puccini, Turandot, I/42/15.

Again, Puccini has used a layering or conflation of modern sounds over a traditional
element! But how is this different than the dissonant pedal points that Puccini had used
from his early days? Dissonant pedal points were some of the most traditional mu-
sical features, popular from the Baroque period on. Puccini’s, though, like the one
from the original version of Edgar, actually implied a kind of modern bitonality.
Puccini must have liked this sonority, she thought, since he practically reproduced it
years later in “Il tabarro”! (Ex. 9a and 9b). Of course, it is also not too different from
Tristan’s Act II, scene 1...

Ex. 9a. G. Puccini, Edgar, original version, Act III, scene 2.

Ex. 9b. G. Puccini, Il Tabarro, 85.

But Turandot is full of true bitonality, front and center in the opening pages of
each act. Bitonality certainly is a kind of layering, but I should find more of this type
of layered structure. But where? Segugio wondered. She turned to the third act, and
there, at III/26/15, was a very dissonant, descending passage. There were parallel

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 Deborah Burton

tritones in the bass, below various complex chords (diminished and half-dimin-
ished sevenths, whole-tone sonorities, etc.), and above it all even the Sehnsuchts-
motiv from Tristan appears, before the resolution to B- major. Some of these
chords could be labeled as set class (026), modern terminology for a sonority Puc-
cini used frequently – so frequently that Dr. Segugio had called it his “signature”
(Ex. 10a)! If one were to remove these added layers and chromatic passing tones, she
thought, what remains is a simple linear intervallic pattern of parallel tenths (Ex. 10b)!

Ex. 10a. G. Puccini, Turandot, III/26/15.

Ex. 10b. G. Puccini, Turandot, III/26/15, simplified.

Conflation again. And it reminds me of another passage – at III/36/0.

She turned to that section. It seemed like the bass downbeats of each bar for-
med a standard linear intervallic pattern of descending fifths (F-B- -E- ). But two
legs of the underlying schema alternated in the bass with their tritones (F+B, B-
+E), and the whole passage was adorned with diminished sevenths (Ex. 11a and
11b).

Ex. 11a. G. Puccini, Turandot, III/36/0.

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 The Puccini Code

Ex. 11b. G. Puccini, Turandot, III/36/0, simplified.

More conflation. This all seems interconnected in some way – but how?
The train was pulling into the New Haven station. Dr. Segugio descended and
decided to walk over to Yale’s Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. She
remembered it well from her earlier days as a student here. It always held surprises
and treasures. Perhaps today she’ll find something important, and she knew exact-
ly where to start looking.

***

The exterior of Yale’s Beinecke Library looks oddly out of place in the mostly neo-
gothic architecture of the university. Its shell of thin, white, gray-veined marble
panes filter the sunlight, protecting the rare books inside. It is a huge depository
of rare materials and books, now holding about half a million volumes and several
million manuscripts.
As Segugio approached the ghostly white building, she knew she would request
to see the Puccini manuscripts in the Frederick R. Koch collection: a vast group of
materials that is fundamental resource for research on many composers, authors
and historical figures. Some of the composers whose papers are part of this col-
lection are Berlioz, Boccherini, Brahms, Debussy, Gounod, Handel, Leoncavallo,
the Mendelssohns, Mozart, Poulenc, Schubert, Stravinsky and Wagner. Although
some of their images are posted on the Internet – including a sketch of the bell sce-
ne from Tosca’s Act III – these are just a handful compared to their full collection.
The professor went downstairs on thickly carpeted steps to the main desk. And,
after submitting the request forms, she waited, pencil and notebook in hand, for
the arrival of the packet. The Puccini file of the Koch collection, she knew, inclu-
ded sketches for Tosca, Madama Butterfly, and La fanciulla del West, plus some
correspondence with family and friends.
When it arrived she immediately started searching for notes Puccini might have
left himself in the sketches: verbal phrases that were not related to tempo indica-
tions or instrumentation. One caught her eye in a sketch for Fanciulla: depicting
– 15 –
 Deborah Burton

the moment in Act II when Johnson re-enters Minnie’s cabin after being shot,
lurching and stumbling: as normal, the composer had written the stage directions
and tempi. But he had also added: «irregular movement» [movimento irregola-
re] /«staggering from the wound» [traballamento del ferito]. Just a hint of how
Puccini’s rhythm was directly related to the onstage action. But this is not really
going to help much with Turandot, she thought.
Finally, she saw, in a section labelled “Notes and Ephemera”, number 734, a
five-page document that seemed to be a letter, but there was no addressee or si-
gnature. It appeared to be scribbled with words crossed out, as if it were a draft to
be perfected later. Perhaps these are notes for a speech or interview?
Phrases meaning «As to the question you asked me» and «Italian melody»
jumped out at her. This must be a response to an interviewer’s inquiry, probably
written around the time of La rondine – that is, in the middle of World War I, when
Italy and Germany were on opposite sides. Patriotic feelings ran high then and,
since Puccini had recently been accused of being an “international” composer by
Fausto Torrefranca, he often had had to defend his own italianità. The whole page
read:
As to the question you asked me about the new musical indossi that come to us from
other countries, I have nothing to say – it is necessary and proper to accept them
because when music is good it can be written in any country – however, I state,
hold and insist that these new indossi, especially the cerebral ones, must not in any
way pollute or mar the essence and the traditions of Italian melody, which arise
only from the heart and flourish under our skies – Let us indeed be aware of all the
harmonic and technical progresses that arrive from beyond the mountains and the
seas, but let us keep the clarity, the spontaneity and the simplicity that characterise
our music.12

There it was! Puccini’s own explanation of his aesthetic combining the old Ita-
lian traditions and new ideas. His term «indosso» was problematic, though. Al-
though it related to the verb indossare to wear or put on as clothing, it was not a
real Italian word. But it was clear from the context what Puccini meant by indosso:
«the harmonic and technical progresses that arrive from beyond the mountains
and the seas». That is, the modernistic, “international” trends. And – Dr. Segugio

12. «Alla domanda che mi fa circa i nuovi indossi musicali che ci vengono da altri paesi non ho niente da
dire – bisogna ed è doveroso accettarli perchè la musica quando è buona può esser scritta in qualunque
paese – ma però dico sostengo e insisto che questi nuovi indossi, specialmente cerebrali, non debbono
in veruna maniera inquinare nè guastare l’essenza e le tradizioni della melodia italiana che dal cuore solo
nasce e germoglia sotto il nostro cielo – Facciamo pur tesoro di tutti i progressi armonici e tecnici che
ci arrivano d’oltre monte e d’oltre mare ma conserviamo la chiarezza la spontaneità e la semplicità che
caratterizzano la nostra musica»; Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Koch Collection, Notes
and Ephemera, n. 734 [page 5 of 5].

– 16 –
 The Puccini Code

was beaming – they were to be added to, or conflated with, simple, traditional fra-
meworks. This was exactly what she had been observing in the music!
Would this idea work with one of the Turandot sketches? She dug out a photocopy
of sketch 22 for the finale. This passage was so dissonant that Janet Maguire (who
had studied the sketches for almost a decade in order to compose her version of
the ending) had said it was 12-tone! [Maguire 1990, 339]. But as Segugio examined
the sketch, she saw that it could also be interpreted as a series of non-resolving
(i.e., “modern”) diminished seventh chords, within a larger pattern of three-chord
groups that is itself rising chromatically. Further, the bass notes of each chord spell
out traditional arpeggiated major triads on C, C+ and D. This was a multiple con-
flation: a simple chromatic line supporting triads supporting diminished sevenths.
Some elements were diatonic and some were not: a true mixture of old and new
(Ex. 12).

Ex. 12. G. Puccini, Turandot, sketch 22 for the finale, transcribed with annotations.

Returning the archival material to the desk, she thought that perhaps she was
onto something. This idea of conflation does help solve the first two riddles – Puc-
cini’s strange chord construction and his extreme dissonances. But what about the
third, the abrupt interruptions? she wondered, as she left the library and stepped
out onto the sunlit pavement.

***

Two of the most influential music critics and thinkers of the late 19th century were
Eduard Hanslick and Heinrich Schenker. Both of them commented on Puccini’s
habit of swiftly breaking off one musical idea and jumping to another – and both
of them hated it. In an 1897 review of La Bohème, Schenker had written: «The
count in Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro or Mozart’s Don Giovanni, despite their less
than honourable intentions, are at least men of more steady sentiments, and more
steady desires than Marcellos, Rodolfos, etc.».13 And Hanslick agreed, writing

13. «Der Graf in Mozart’s Hochzeit des Figaro oder Mozart’s Don Juan, trotz ihrer unehrenwerthen
Absichten zumindest Männer von fixerer Gesinnung und fixerem Wollen als die Marcells und Rudolphs

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 Deborah Burton

about La Bohème, «The basic feeling of the whole, continually broken up, is thus
dissipated in noisy, nervous details».14
Christie Hunter was showing Dr. Segugio these quotes she had located, both
of which the professor had known previously. The professor explained to Christie
that, in Puccini’s operas, the clearest juxtapositions of diverse and contrasting mu-
sical elements occur at the level of the scene, which had been discussed in recent
books by Andrew Davis [2010] and Alexandra Wilson [2007]. Davis examined
Puccini’s last four operas in light of this juxtaposition of styles – he called it stylistic
plurality. She found a good quote in the first chapter: «Much of Puccini’s late mu-
sic [...] proceeds according to a series of discrete episodes, each articulated with
a discrete style and each contrasting with neighboring episodes in such a way to
produce obvious musical seams» [Davis 2010, 21]. Segugio added that contrasting
discrete episodes occur in the composer’s earlier operas as well, such as Bohème.
It was a vital part of his style. For example, in Tosca, Scarpia opens a window, we
hear a gavotte playing outside in a different key, then he shuts the window and the
original music returns.
«But quick shifts in Puccini scores happen at much faster rates as well», Segu-
gio said, «This is what has been labelled Puccini’s “mosaic” technique by many
scholars and critics».
«I know», said Christie, «I underlined what William Ashbrook said about
it: “With La Bohème, Puccini began to use a lapidary technique, constructing an
act of carefully wrought and contrasting details, building up a musical mosaic”»
[Ashbrook 1968/1985, 216].
«Yes», said the professor, «you surely remember the scene from Act I of
Bohème when Rodolfo’s bohemian friends have just exited (in G- major). Then
he sits down to write his article (in B major), which quickly disintegrates as he
grows disgusted. Then he throws down his pen and says “I’m not in the mood”.
But suddenly – in D major – there’s a knock at the door: it is Mimì, and the trouble
begins».
Christie nodded. Segugio continued, «Well, that technique has also been called
“bracketing” by Suzanne Scherr, and “framing” by Steven Huebner [Scherr 1997;
Huebner 2004]. But it’s also possible to see the same phenomenon as “interrup-
tion”». Looking at the quick shifts to new music as appearances over a background
layer of sound (rather than being framed by it) changes one’s perception of the
phenomenon. It implies, Segugio thought, that the background layer is on a dee-
per structural level, that it is actually being prolonged somehow. If auxiliary notes

etc.» [Schenker 1897].

14. «Die Grundempfindung des Ganzen, unaufhörlich zerrissen, zerflattert dergestalt in lauter nervösen
Details» [Groos-Parker 1986, 135].

– 18 –
 The Puccini Code

could prolong a pitch, and auxiliary chords could prolong a tonicisation, why couldn’t
parenthetical interruptions (even in other keys) prolong a whole musical fabric?
The professor’s eyes lit up as she remembered a letter that Puccini had written
to his friend Riccardo Schnabl about Turandot that might help. Did Puccini suggest
his own name for this technique? – she wondered. She found the letter and read:
«Turandot is sleeping. It lacks a big aria in the second act. I need to graft it in».15
A graft, she thought, “innesto” in Italian.
And, after a beat, it’s another sort of conflation! The two techniques were rela-
ted – the adding together of sonorities was “direct conflation” and the interrup-
tions (or grafts) were “indirect conflation”. Perhaps I will write this up someday, she
thought.
Segugio and Christie turned back to the printed Turandot score. «Then, Pro-
fessor, would you call this “direct” or “indirect”?» asked Christie, pointing to
I/30/1. At that point, a bitonal section pops up in the midst of clear A- major, with
a pentatonic melody (Ex. 13).

Ex. 13. G. Puccini, Turandot, I/30/1.

«The A- major melody that Ping, Pang and Pong began at I/28 keeps returning,
so it would be indirect. But these short bitonal moments combine A- major and B-
- major and so I think they would be direct», she added. «You’re right, Christie»,
said the professor, «both can happen simultaneously».
«And do you remember what Casella wrote about bitonality and polytonali-
ty?» Segugio added. «Not really...», answered Christie. «Well, writing in 1923
– just a year before Puccini’s death – Casella described polytonality as “simulta-
neous modulation” and compared it to pictorial Cubism. According to Casella, in
cubism an object is simultaneously viewed from diverse perspectives in space and
time – the negation of normal time flow» [Casella 1924, 8-9]. Something struck a
chord: they were thinking about playing with time...
«If that’s the case», said Christie, «would polytonality also be simultaneous
prolongation?».

15. «Turandot dorme: ci vuole una grande aria al secondo, bisogna innestrarla» [Gara 1958, 530].

– 19 –
 Deborah Burton

«Let’s think about that», answered Segugio, «perhaps you have found your
thesis topic!» But silently the professor wondered: these two kinds of conflation
seem to be different only in regard to how they occur in time – simultaneously or sequen-
tially. Perhaps they are two forms of the same technique!

***

Dr. Segugio’s iPhone was beeping again. She finally put down her copies of the
Turandot sketches that she had been poring over for hours. It was a text message
from Christie: «Urgent! I must c u!». The professor wished that students would
not use “c” for “see” and “u” for “you” but by now it was part of the language. What
could be so important?
She phoned Christie, who blurted out, «Professor, I think some of the Turandot
sketches were stolen! Someone named Zuccoli. Maybe Alfano didn’t get to see all
of them!». Segugio knew that every once in a while, some Turandot sketches sur-
faced and were sold at private auctions. Dieter Schickling was a master at tracking
these down. Christie told her that she had found an Internet listing for an auction
in England in 2002 that had offered some unknown Turandot sketches.
«Well, let’s check Schickling’s catalogue [Schickling 2003] and see if they are
there», Segugio said. She opened it to page 374 and began leafing through the list
of sketches. She picked up the phone again and said to Christie: «You are correct
that a sketch that Schickling lists as 91.A.II.48.a, which was sold by antiquarian
Lisa Cox in Exeter, but it seems to be for the riddle scene in Act II, not the finale. It
had been in the possession of Guido Zuccoli’s daughter» [ibid., 376].
«Who was this Guido Zuccoli?», asked Christie. «A Ricordi employee re-
sponsible for preparing the piano-vocal score of the opera. He probably ordered
and put together the selection of sketches for Alfano» [ibid., 392], answered the
professor. «It is possible that Zuccoli did not give all the sketches to Alfano», she
added, «but let’s not call it a theft».
But wait! Segugio’s eyes fell on the following page of the Schickling catalogue,
about halfway down [ibid., 377]. Zuccoli’s name was mentioned again for sketch
91.A.III.35.a. This sketch, according to Schickling, contained annotations in the
composer’s hand that were not normal score indications. The sketch had been
reproduced by Celli, but was practically illegible. But now Schickling had found
the original somewhere in Germany and confirmed what Celli had deciphered.

– 20 –
 The Puccini Code

Segugio read just what she had been waiting to see: Puccini had written down what
needed to be done!

***

Under the heading «stacco per duettone» [interruption for the great duet], Puc-
cini had written the following: «Nel villaggio but with chords and harmonised
differently and modern movements and reprises and surprises, etc.»16 (Ex. 14a
and 14b).

Ex. 14a. G. Puccini, Turandot, facsimile of sketch 91.A.III.35, p. 1: «stacco per duettone».

16. «nel villaggio ma ad accordi e armonizzato diverso e movenze moderne e riprese e sorprese etc» [Celli
1985, 53-54].

– 21 –
 Deborah Burton

Ex. 14b. G. Puccini, Turandot, sketch 91.A.III.35, p. 2: «nel villaggio ma ad accordi e armonizza-
to diverso e movenze moderne e riprese e sorprese etc».

Instantly, Prof. Segugio knew what Puccini meant: “Nel villaggio” referred to
a very diatonic aria from Puccini’s unsuccessful second opera, Edgar. In other
words, Puccini had been planning to interrupt one passage with another (indi-
rect conflation), and adorn the simple diatonic melody of the earlier work with
new harmonies, rhythms, returns – and surprises (that is, direct conflation). In
this case, Frazzi was right!.
Dr. Segugio ventured over to the piano. She took out the score of Nel villaggio
and played through the melody. She then penciled in a few “indossi”: a tritone in
the lowest part, then chromatically rising dominant seventh chords, and finally,
in the upper range, parallel augmented triads following the melodic line. She held
her breath and played through it. Could Puccini have composed this? – she thought
(Ex. 15a and 15b).

– 22 –
 The Puccini Code

Ex. 15a. G. Puccini, Edgar, Nel villaggio.

Ex. 15b. Hypothetical realization, with indossi.

The answer was not so simple. It did sound like the sonic world of Turandot, but
there would have to be much more studying to be done for any reconstruction to
truly reveal what the composer had wanted. But this was a real clue, in Puccini’s
own hand. And it was a good first step at solving the riddle of Turandot – and the
Puccini code.

– 23 –
 Deborah Burton

References

Adami G. (ed. 1928/1982), Giacomo Puccini. Epistolario, Mondadori, Milano.

Alaleona D. (1911), I moderni orizzonti della tecnica musicale. Teoria della divisione dell’ot-
tava in parti uguali, «Rivista musicale italiana», 18, pp. 382-420.
Ashbrook W. (1968/1985), The Operas of Puccini, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, NY.
Ashbrook W. – Powers H. (1991), Puccini’s Turandot: the End of the Great Tradition,
Princeton University Press, Princeton NJ.
Baragwanath N. (2011), The Italian Traditions & Puccini: Compositional Theory & Prac-
tice in Nineteenth-Century Opera, Indiana University Press, Bloomington IN.
Budden J. (2005), Puccini: His Life and Works, Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Burton D. (2012), Recondite Harmony: Essays on Puccini’s Operas, Pendragon, New
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Busnelli M. (1985), Carteggio Giacomo Puccini-Domenico Alaleona, 1919-1924. «Quader-
ni Pucciniani», 2, pp. 217-219.
Casella A. (1924), Problemi sonori odierni, «La Prora», 1, pp. 5-18; Eng. trans. Tone-Pro-
blems of Today, «Musical Quarterly», 10 (1924), pp. 159-171.
Celli T. (1985), Gli abbozzi per Turandot, «Quaderni Pucciniani» 2, pp. 43-65; orig.
ed. Scoprire la melodia, «La Scala» (April 1951) pp. 40-43; L’ultimo canto, «La Scala»
(May 1951), pp. 32-35.
Conati M. (2003), Lettura del Tabarro di Giacomo Puccini, in M. Bianchi (ed.), “Il ta-
barro” di Giacomo Puccini. Il Maestro a Pescaglia, atti della Prima Giornata Pucciniana:
Monsagrati di Pescaglia, Villa Mansi, 15 settembre 2002, Promolucca, Lucca, pp. 146-
160.
Davis A. (2010), Il Trittico, Turandot and Puccini’s Late Style, Indiana University Press,
Bloomington, IN.
Fairtile L. (2004), “Duetto a tre”: Franco Alfano’s Completion of Turandot, «Cambridge
Opera Journal», 16/2, pp. 163-185.
Frazzi V. (1948), Il superamento della tonalità ed il nuovo concetto armonico, in Atti del
quinto convegno di musica presieduto da Ildebrando Pizzetti, Barbèra, Florence.
Gara E. (ed. 1958), Carteggi Pucciniani, Ricordi, Milan.
Gauthier-Villars H. (1902) [pseud. Willy], «L’assiette au beurre», n. 78.
Groos A. – Parker R. (eds 1986), Giacomo Puccini: La Bohème, Cambridge University
Press, Cambridge.

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 The Puccini Code

Girardi M. (2000), Puccini: His Internatonal Art, Chicago University Press, Chicago;
orig. ed. Giacomo Puccini: L’arte internazionale di un musicista italiano, Marsilio, Veni-
ce 1995.
Hepokoski J. (2004), Structure, Implication and the End of Suor Angelica, «Studi pucci-
niani», 3, pp. 241-264.
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ni», 3, pp. 77-104.
Leukel J. (1983), Studien zu Puccinis “Il Trittico”, Katzbichler, Munich.
Maehder J. (1985), Studi sul carattere di frammento della Turandot di Giacomo Puccini,
«Quaderni pucciniani», 2, pp. 83-84; orig. ed. Studien zum Fragmentcharakter von Gia-
como Puccinis Turandot, «Analecta musicologica», 22 (1984), pp. 297-397; Eng. trans.
Puccini’s Turandot: A Fragment: Studies in Franco Alfano’s completion of the score, «En-
glish National Opera Guide», 27 (2011), pp. 35-53.
Maguire J. (1990), Puccini’s Version of the Duet and Final Scene of Turandot, «Musical
Quarterly», 74/3, pp. 319-355.
Marotti G. (1959), Incontri e colloqui col Maestro, «L’approdo musicale», 6/II, pp. 54-57.
Parigi L. (1921), Il Momento Musicale, Vallecchi, Florence.
Phillips-Matz M. (2002), Puccini: A Biography, Northeastern University Press, Boston.
Salvetti G. (1991), La nascita del Novecento, Storia della Musica 10, EdT, Turin.
Sanguinetti G. (2004), Puccini’s Music in the Italian Theoretical Literature of Its Day, in
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Savino E. (1924), Turandot, la nuova opera di Puccini, «Il Mezzogiorno», n. p.
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e colore locale nell’opera di Puccini, Giardini Editori, Pisa, pp. 199-210.
Wilson A. (2007), The Puccini Problem, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.

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 Deborah Burton

Abstract
In questo saggio – scritto nello stile del romanziere Dan Brown, e utilizzando ci-
tazioni da lettere di Puccini e altri documenti – l’autrice inventa i personaggi della
Prof. Segugio e della sua assistente Christie Hunter per analizzare le tecniche com-
positive di Puccini nella sua ultima opera incompiuta, Turandot. I due personaggi
lavorano per risolvere gli enigmi della tecnica di Puccini – andamenti paralleli, im-
provvisi cambi di scrittura e di stile, un senso di coerenza tonale anche in ambiti
politonali e atonali – attraverso la lettura di testi critici coevi e moderni e un’analisi
rigorosa delle partiture. La Prof. Segugio classifica infine le peculiari tecniche com-
positive di Puccini in due tipologie: combinazione diretta (direct conflation) e com-
binazione indiretta (indirect conflation). Si tratta di due forme di stratificazione che
concorrono a creare una partitura fondamentalmente diatonica, ma con l’aggiunta
di elementi modernisti. La prova documentaria decisiva, a supporto di queste con-
clusioni, è rappresentata da un’annotazione inedita di Puccini (custodita presso la
Yale’s Beinecke Rare Book Library) e da un raro abbozzo per il finale della Turan-
dot, con indicazioni autografe del compositore.

– 26 –