It's really been my therapist. Opera has. It's been my way of dealing with all of my issues

and life, not just the death of people close to me and illness, but also happy moments,

too.

Hey, I'm Rianne Giddens. From WQXR in the Metropolitan Opera, this is Ariacog. I think it's the most

beautiful musical depiction of despair. In each episode of Ariacog, singers and all sorts of

experts decode one area and then we listen to it all the way through with fresh ears. Today, a

super famous Ariacog. V. C. D'Arte. That's such a beautiful line and I gave my song to the stars

to heaven, which smiled with more beauty. What that line reminds me once again of is just the

mission of opera in general, which is to really leave the surly bonds of Earth and give one a sense

of the infinite. I've been singing since I was four, but at least that's what my sister tells me.

And I really can't tell you everything music is given to me. The ability to stand on stage,

to open up my mouth and to let my voice come out and connect with the people who are sitting there

listening to me is just it means everything. When I talk to other musicians about this, it's obvious

that they feel the same thing. It's kind of a shared language and that's as true of Fiddlers and

folk artists as it is of opera singers. Maybe it's that shared language that inspires us to sort of

gather around certain stories, certain songs, certain characters. One of those characters is Florea

the tragic heroine of Puccini's opera. Tosca's a singer herself and she has what she might call an

artistic temperament. She's a little volatile, a little high maintenance and a lot jealous.

Her boyfriend, Cavadadossi, has gotten embroiled in local politics and is at the top of the hit

list for the evil police chief, Scarpia. Long story short, Scarpia tortures Cavadossi and

sends him off to be executed and Tosca's there for all of it. She can hear his screams,

she can hear the drumbeats announcing that it's time for his execution and she has to fight off

...