For Neapolitan theatrical actors, Viviani is a master – in prose, music, poetry, irony, but above all in the social criticism expressed by his theatre. For those of my generation, it is the seed of our torment: the language is impenetrable; the choral scenes have too many characters for our means. Luckily, there are the songs, and like Luisella Viviani, our forebearer, I too can be a singer-actress. Un amore selvaggio is my third work on Viviani. The first, E’ ffeste ammare – the title of the last scene in Napoli in Frack –, was an excerpt of works dedicated to the city’s neighbourhoods and the changes they were undergoing; it depicts a maritime festival, with singers on decorated boats, the audience sitting on the beach, and a panel of judges, tasked with awarding a prize to the best singer on the most beautiful boat, watching from the loggia. In my show, staged on the waterfront, with singers on fishing boats and actors on the pier, the festival winner is a character the author calls ‘la posteggiatrice’ (in Naples, almost a synonym of seduction, and in the case of itinerant musicians the art lay in understanding at a glance which was the most generous table and what songs would satisfy it), whom we took the liberty of calling Dolores Melodia. Resuscitated from pages written in 1927, this character has since become my musical alter ego. When I answer the phone they’re looking for Dolores; some friends even call me ‘Dolly’. I’m telling you this to show just how much the master’s energy and success still permeates our gestures; we are his grandchildren. My second creation, the small urban musical group Devoti a Viviani is even more street-based, as we bring the musicians from the stage to the street itself, ten of them performing on the back of a Piaggio Ape. Dolores leads them, like the beggars of Madonna dell’Arco.

Now you understand how exciting it can be watching this 1912 film, with a very young Raffaele Viviani and an extraordinary Luisella. A countryside adventure: two siblings, ill at ease in a subordinate social position, challenge the owner Alessandro; Giuseppe doesn’t want to work for him, while Carmela wants to force him to love her. However, class conflict isn’t hidden by emotions and characters. Viviani remains always Viviani.

Antonella Monetti

Antonella Monetti is a Neapolitan actress, director and musician. Together with the violinist Michele Signore she was responsible for the arrangement and performance of the music for Un amore selvaggio.