A series of blogs identifying five general categories of the nurse character’s role in operas from the mid-seventeenth through the early twenty-first century. The categories are fluid and overlap, so that the nurse character can and usually does appear in more than one category within an opera. Taken from a careful study of librettos and available performances of a hundred-plus operas with at least one nurse character.
Former Nurses: Avra
Judith by Alexander Serov, Libretto by Ivan Antonovich Giustiani and Others
Premiered in Saint Petersburg, 1863
PART 2
Judith, a beautiful young Hebrew widow, lives in the biblical town of Bethulia that the Assyrian army has under siege for refusing to worship King Nebuchadnezzer. When the starving, dehydrated residents no longer can resist, the town elders agree to surrender the town after five more days if help does not arrive. Judith rejects this idea and, with her trusted nurse Avra at her side, walks to the enemy Assyrian camp and charms its commander General Holofernes. When the drunken soldier has dismissed his aides and is alone in his tent with Judith, whom he hopes to seduce, she decapitates the sleeping Holofernes and places his head in the food bag that Avra has brought on their journey. Avra carries the ‘spoils of victory’ back to Bethulia, which is liberated soon thereafter.
When Avra first voices her concern about Judith’s mission into the enemy camp, short two-word phrases create emphasis when separated by rests. Her reasoning calls for longer phrases, now separated by at least a full measure, allowing time for her words to sink in. Avra has a list of fears that she verbalizes one at a time over tremulo strings in the accompaniment. When she reaches her final foreboding, that Judith’s beauty will cause her ruin, Avra’s voice drops in predictable descending lines. Disregarding her nurse’s admonitions, Judith’s entrance an octave higher soars with each phrase as she puts her trust in God to send his angels to her aid. Nurse and mistress argue their points musically. In a reversal of the standard musical dialogue between mistress and nurse, as Judith unfolds her plan, she has the more measured phrases against Avra’s rapid ones. Judith’s lyrical singing of dressing in her finery is countered in duet by Avra’s concise counterarguments, interjected more frequently in brisk speech on repeated pitches.
Having failed to alter her mistress’s resolve by raising the perils of the enemy camp, Avra tries a different ploy, appealing instead to Judith’s bond with her former wet nurse and addressing Judith’s “inner child” who received her earliest nourishment from this loyal nurse and servant. It is Avra’s turn to sing lyrically as she recalls, “I suckled you at my breast, you bloomed like a lily of paradise. I have shed so many tears for you!”– to which a determined Judith interjects impatient demands that Avra do her bidding and prepare for their trip. The interchange of voices ends in another duet in which each woman, remaining firm in her beliefs about the matter, nonetheless harmoniously agrees to disagree, as Judith reaffirms her faith in God, and Avra emphasizes the shame that awaits her mistress. Having had their last say on the matter, the women end their animated discussion in unison an octave apart. The exchange is reminiscent of Arnalta’s sparring with Poppea over the latter’s affair with Nero.
Avra disapproves of Judith’s plan to enter “that godless and debauched camp,” but Judith remains steadfast in her intentions. When Judith reveals her plan, it is only the skillful use of feminine wiles that surfaces, not the ultimate act of decapitation. “Could she have forgotten all restraint and modesty?” wonders Avra. “I beg you to listen to me: dishonor awaits you there. Do not go, Judith, I beseech you.” Avra’s pleading heightens the drama and provides a contrast between her own fears and Judith’s courage, apparent in the music that the two women sing.
The picture of debauchery that Avra paints in Act 2 is realized in the opening of Act 3. In yet another departure from the biblical account, Serov separates the two acts by The March of Holofernes, with an oriental flair, to shift the action from the besieged town to the enemy camp. The chorus of odalisques – female slaves or concubines of Turkish origin – sing of languid nights of the Orient and promises of love, introducing a sexual element into the evolving drama that sets the stage for the imminent downfall of Holofernes. Impatient to get on with the war, he dismisses the frivolous entertainment.
In yet another embellishment of the biblical account, Serov adds Bacchanalian dances, a Hindu song, and an orgy to celebrate wine, women, and song even though the composer found such inclusion superfluous in their dramas. When the eunuch Bagoas sings of lovely young maidens returning from their nocturnal baths where they have bathed “their breasts, their faces and heavy black tresses,” Holofernes again grows impatient, preferring to hear battle songs. Yet this is a man obviously overcome with lust, confirmed by Serov’s addition of the slave Asfaneses, whom Holofernes kills for having made a disparaging remark about Judith.
Operagoers familiar with the biblical story of Judith would not have overlooked the irony of the powerful warrior Holofernes who would succumb fatally to the pleasures of the flesh that he previously had countered with thoughts of battle. Throughout the action Avra remains the lone voice of conscience, challenging what she does not understand in Judith’s behavior: “Why are we here among these dogs?” Avra asks Judith. “Debauchery, blood, a shameful orgy! It is a mortal sin! O God of our fathers, protect us!”
Similar to the role of the Greek chorus, Avra’s asides while in the enemy camp impart the moral implications of the behaviors she is witnessing. Like Arnalta’s questioning of Poppea’s illicit liaisons with Nero, Avra questions Judith’s reasons for associating with Holofernes – she clearly recognizes the dangers for a beautiful young woman in his presence. Yet Judith eludes Holofernes, leading to his delirium not found in the Apocrypha. A jealous suitor of paranoid dimension, Holofernes works himself into a frenzy, threatened by real and imaginary traitors, before lapsing into unconsciousness. The episode gives operagoers access to Holofernes’ innermost thoughts and feelings not found in the Book of Judith.
An intrinsic technique of characterization in nineteenth-century Russian literature, the use of dreams and other altered states of consciousness allowed authors to recapitulate past events, prophesy future developments, and explicate thematic statements. While some dreams establish a dichotomy between fantasy and real life, others illuminate fundamental truths in the character’s waking life. 16 Holofernes’ delirious fit achieves the latter goal. The pathological egotism previously suspected in the hardened battle commander is confirmed as his confusion escalates. In a stroke of literary mastery, Serov exposes the fatal flaw in the bombastic Holofernes: he who aspires to be king of the world would give away everything for Judith. The final ironic resolution is thus foretold. Holofernes indeed will give away everything, including his very life, to his coveted beauty. Judith corroborates the anticipated outcome of the plot in a double entendre added by Serov. When Bagoas, assures Judith that the episode she has witnessed in Holofernes will be mitigated by sleep, Judith adds, “Yes, a deep and restorative sleep.”
According to Richard Taruskin’s synopsis of Yudif: “At last the hour has come for the execution of Judith’s deed. She sends Avra out of the tent, seizes Holofernes’ own sword and disappears under the tent canopy. The blows of a sword and a muffled cry are heard, followed by a deathly silence. Judith reappears pale and trembling, with the bloodied sword and Holofernes’ severed head in her hands.” 17 Avra now takes center stage as she, like the maidservant of the Apocrypha, carries that head in their food bag from the enemy camp back to Bethulia. Both Hebbel’s and Giacometti’s dramas treat the beheading in a similar manner. Avra has no further role in the opera, but as Carey Moore notes in his commentary on the Book of Judith: “while all the males of Bethulia hid behind the protection of its walls, it was a nameless maid who, because she went out with her mistress to the enemy camp and came back carrying the head of Holofernes in a sack (13: 9–10, 15), will be remembered forever.” 18
Writing about the reception of the Judith story in the Christian tradition, Elena Ciletti and Henrike Lähnemann note that beginning in late-fourteenth-century biblical translations, her maid “is a pivotal figure in the plot: she accompanies Judith to Holofernes’ camp, guards the entrance to his tent on the fateful night, and bears the provisions and the frightful trophy head.” 19 The same can be said for Avra, Serov’s nurse whose role essentially is that of the biblical maidservant. While the nonverbal maidservant remains in the shadows, Avra’s verbalized musings and misgivings offer a means to elucidate Judith’s behavior. For example, because Serov leaves out the lengthy description of Judith’s piety found in the Apocrypha, it is through Avra’s conversation with Judith that the heroine’s virtue and humility are revealed – a common device given to stock characters such as servants, maids, and nurses beginning in ancient Greek and early Italian drama and in opera. The nurse’s observations while in the enemy camp paint a vivid picture that contrasts the God-fearing Hebrews with their self-serving, narcissistic oppressors.
Like Arnalta in L’incoronazione di Poppea, Avra shares a nurse’s concern about her nursling’s mission that, although of an entirely different nature, involves risk and casts aspersion on the young woman’s character. And like Poppea, Judith is independent, determined, and not amenable to her nurse’s counsel. Judith, sounding much like the impetuous Poppea but relying on God, not Love, replies, “No! It is the will of the Almighty. He alone guides His chosen ones in their heroic deeds. He will protect me. He will send me His angels. He will come Himself to my aid.”
Avra is dumbfounded but, like Arnalta, her pleas go unheeded. Unlike Arnalta, however, Avra must accompany her mistress on the mission, so she has a personal aversion to its completion. Judith is not swayed. “God leads me,” she tells her nurse. “Go, prepare my garments, my wedding raiment.” Avra shows that she also is determined. “Judith! I beg you on my knees. Hear your faithful servant,” she cries. Judith again rebukes Avra, “Away with these fears. Let dismay be banished from your face. Prepare my robes. I shall accomplish my duty. God guides me. Go!” Avra goes.
The situation at the enemy camp is as bad as Avra feared; the astounded nurse, still clueless of her mistress’s agenda, hears Judith berate her own people and ingratiate herself to the enemy general. Avra’s counsel still unheeded, Judith’s actions propel both women toward the fateful night when Judith finally reveals her objective – and the misgiving beneath her confident exterior – within Avra’s hearing: “And so it has come, this terrible night! My poor heart trembles! Will this hand raise itself to kill a man, a hero? I grew up in holy silence and now I shall commit a murder.” Avra tries one last time to dissuade her nursling: “My child, come to your senses. Do not venture on the way of sin! Your crime will unleash God’s vengeance upon us.” But once in motion, Judith is not going to abort her mission. Judith replies, “Yes, Avra, I am aware and firm in my decision. The vengeance of God, indeed, will fall upon the sinner.” The sinner in Judith’s eyes, however, is not herself or anyone in Bethulia, but rather Holofernes. “You are God’s chosen one!” Avra says to a pale, exhausted Judith who leaves Holofernes’ tent with a bloody sword in her hand and calls feebly for her nurse. At a sign from her mistress, Avra hides Holofernes’ decapitated head in the food bag, and the two women depart for Bethulia.
Avra simply takes the head without Judith needing to bolster her nurse’s courage or admonish her to quicken her pace. Judith’s voice is feeble when, leaving the tent with the bloodstained sword, she calls “Avra!” But the nurse’s courage does not waver. Depositing the head in the food bag, Avra voices her support of the mission, declaring her mistress “God’s chosen one.”
Avra’s musical interaction with Judith shows how Serov’s nurse made the transition from Italian balia to Russian nurse in an Apocrypha-based opera. While Avra does not always agree with her mistress, theirs is a harmonious relationship based on years of mutual trust. In L’incoronazione di Poppea, Arnalta and Poppea have a similar relationship. Arnalta’s “Oblivion soave” is sung to soothe an exhausted Poppea into sleep, but the nurse does not condone her nursling’s scheming. Avra’s War Song of the Jews or Hebrews is no lullaby but rather a call to action that reinforces Judith’s commitment to her mission and, by default, involves the nurse in that grim undertaking.
Many of opera’s Former Nurses are also Knowledgeable Nurses essential to the unraveling of a plot’s complexities through revelation about and recognition of key characters. Euryclea in Homer’s The Odyssey, who made her way to the opera stage, is perhaps the most familiar of opera’s Knowledgeable Nurses for her recognition of the returned but disguised Ulysses from a childhood scar; her role is are the topic of the next blog.
A comprehensive list of the hundred-plus operas that include a nurse character is found on my website under BOOKS > The Nurse in History and Opera > Book Extras.
To learn more about how the nurse is portrayed on the opera stage, see Judith Barger, The Nurse in History and Opera: From Servant to Sister (Lexington Books, 2024).
Notes
- Michael R. Katz, Dreams and the Unconscious in Nineteenth-Century Russian Fiction (Hanover, CT: University Press of New England, 1984), 1, 147.
- Taruskin, Opera and Drama in Russia, 437–38.
- Moore, Judith,
- Ciletti and Lähnemann, “Judith in the Christian Tradition,” 52, 62.
