Clocking In with Ponchielli's Danza delle Ore
The Backstory
La Gioconda, opera in four acts (1876): Danza delle ore (Act III)
I'm Amilcare Ponchielli, and I'm glad to share the backstory of my Danza delle Ore with you. You'll learn what the dance means inside my opera, where a Venetian palace host stages it as a battle of good against evil, and that changes how it sounds. Once you've read it, test yourself in the Trainer on this site, where my fellow composers and I help you recognize our pieces the moment they begin.
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I Was Never a Solo Act
Let me clear up a common mix-up first: I never wrote the Dance of the Hours as a piece on its own. It belongs to my opera La Gioconda, where it sits in the finale of Act III as the ballet. Opera audiences in my day expected a bit of dancing in the middle of the evening, so I wrote some. I had no idea it would one day wander off and become far more famous than the rest of the show.A Quick Word About Me
I lived from 1834 to 1886, and in my lifetime I was the Italian composer people ranked right after Verdi. That's a pretty good place to be, even if it means always standing in a very large shadow. I also spent time as a teacher, and two of my students were Puccini and Mascagni. I like to think some of my instinct for a good tune rubbed off on them.Not That Mona Lisa
People hear the title La Gioconda and assume the opera is about the famous painting. It isn't, because Gioconda is the name of my heroine, a street singer in Venice. The story is set in the 17th century and runs over four acts, with plenty of schemers and secret loves. There isn't a single portrait with a mysterious smile anywhere in it.The Man Behind the Words
The libretto was written by Arrigo Boito, who published it under the pseudonym Tobia Gorrio. He based it on Victor Hugo's 1835 play Angelo, Tyrant of Padua. Boito worked under a disguise here, which suits an opera so full of people hiding things from each other. I was happy to have such a gifted writer handing me dramatic scenes to set to music.Opening Night at La Scala
La Gioconda first reached the stage on 8 April 1876 at Teatro alla Scala in Milan. I wasn't satisfied with it, though, and I kept revising it over the following years. The final version was given in Genoa in 1879 and then at La Scala again in 1880. Composers rarely get a piece perfect on the first try, and I was no exception.A Party You Wouldn't Want to Attend
In the story, the dance is an entertainment at a palace, the Ca' d'Oro, for the Venetian nobility. The host is Alvise, the head of the Inquisition, and he presents it as a ballet about the eternal struggle between good and evil. The guests think they're simply being treated to a lovely evening of music and movement. Alvise, as you'll see, has quite a different evening in mind.The Dark Surprise After the Dancing
Once the dancers have finished, Alvise shows his guests the body of his wife. He had forced her to take her own life as punishment for infidelity. It's a chilling moment, and it sits strangely next to such sparkling music. Right around this point in Act III, Laura's apparent death and Enzo's capture follow, so the cheerful mood doesn't last long.The Ballet That Outgrew Its Opera
Here is the part that still amazes me: the dance became far more popular than the whole opera it came from. For a time it was one of the most frequently performed ballets in the world. It is also the only operatic ballet I know of that built a life of its own, in concert halls and in popular culture. La Gioconda itself has held on, though, and it shares that distinction with Verdi's Aida as one of the two Italian grand operas of the period still in the active repertoire.Hippos in Tutus
In 1940, Disney's film Fantasia borrowed my music for a comic ballet danced by hippos, ostriches and alligators. I wrote the piece in the 1870s, of course, so it was never meant for cartoons. Still, the hippos have a certain dignity as they tiptoe about, and the music takes it all in stride. I'm told that many people now meet my dance first through that film and only later learn it came from an opera.Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh
In 1963, Allan Sherman turned my tune into the parody "Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh", which climbed to number two on the pop chart. Nancy Sinatra and Spike Jones used the melody as well. Mel Brooks even slipped it into History of the World, Part I. It's a strange honor for an opera composer from Italy, but a tune that gets this many people smiling has certainly done its job.---
When I think back on Danza delle Ore, what strikes me most is how far a few minutes of ballet music have traveled. I wrote it for a palace scene in La Gioconda, which first reached the stage at La Scala in 1876. I never imagined it would outgrow the opera and find its way into concert halls and, much later, into films and songs. Did you enjoy learning about the backstory of Danza delle Ore? I hope it gave you a new way to listen, and that the next time the harps ripple at dawn you'll know exactly where you are in the day. There is still a lot more to explore. You can follow the five parts of the day more closely, hear how the famous tune turns up in places I never planned for, or get to know the opera it came from. If any of that tempts you, I invite you to click on the links below and keep exploring Danza delle Ore. Then put on a good recording, let the morning come around once more, and see what you notice this time.