La Cenerentola was performed most recently on the Main Stage in 2025. This article is one of several that appeared in the programme.
Word-play and vocal acrobatics
Rossini’s La Cenerentola (Cinderella) has no magical mice, pumpkins or glass slippers. Instead, it offers a wealth of verbal playfulness, vocal acrobatics, rapid-fire exchanges, cascades of alliteration and an abundance of puns.
Rossini and his librettist Jacopo Ferretti define the characters by the way they speak – their language reflects their personalities and serves as a comic device. The characters often unnecessarily complicate their lines, using borrowed words, particularly Latin, as they try to appear more educated than they really are.
So during rehearsals, we worked on rhythmic precision in the delivery of the text, to ensure that the rapid passages are not just fast, but also clear and playful. Here are some examples of the opera’s linguistic and musical games.
There’s the quick-witted Dandini, who attempts to flirt with the sisters halfway through Act I: “il guercetto Amore è stato il tornitore” (the little blind Cupid has been at work on the lathe).

La Cenerentola (2025). Hannes Öberg (Dandini), Mia Karlsson (Clorinda), Erika Tordeus (Tisbe).
Photo: Håkan Larsson
Dandini is telling the sisters is that they have clearly been shaped by Cupid, the blind god of love, turning them on his lathe. Don Magnifico is impressed by Dandini’s extravagant language and exclaims: “Che eloquenza norcina!” (What Norcian eloquence!)
There’s plenty to explore here if you’re curious. The word norcina literally means something from Norcia, an Italian town famous for its cured meats. Don Magnifico wants to praise the prince’s eloquence but, as usual, gets his words in a twist. Another theory is that this phrase refers to an eloquent monk who lived in Norcia in the sixth century. So what does the phrase really mean? Sausage-inspired eloquence or a monk with a gift for words? Take your pick.
When Angelina and Don Ramiro meet for the first time, they sing “scende all’alma e fa sperar” (it enters the soul and awakens hope). It’s clear that they find a connection through their coloratura – there’s an instant spark! You can hear it in the score as their musical lines move together.
In the recitative that opens Act II, we encounter Don Magnifico, who exclaims with theatrical indignation: “Corpo del mosto cotto!” (By the body of boiled grape must!) The phrase is a distortion of the liturgical Corpo di Cristo morto (the dead body of Christ), but Don Magnifico invokes the body of boiled grape juice instead. His word choice reflects a desperation to impress, but he keeps tripping over his words.

La Cenerentola (2025). Erika Tordeus (Tisbe), Åke Zetterström (Don Magnifico), Mia Karlsson (Clorinda).
Photo: Håkan Larsson
In the sextet towards the end of Act II, the soloists tackle a real tongue-twister: “questo è un gruppo rintrecciato” (what a tangled group this is). The librettist Ferretti causes the language tie itself in knots, both musically and phonetically. The extended rolling R-sounds make the phrase seem to spiral in on itself, heightening the sense that everything is spinning out of control.
Finally, Angelina sings a song over and over again as she scrubs, lays the table and serves everyone: “Una volta c’era un re / che a star solo s’annoiò” (Once upon a time there was a king / who grew tired of living alone). Her song is simple, almost a lullaby, with its gentle, lilting rhythm. While the other characters raise their voices and tie themselves in knots trying to sound grander than they really are, but Angelina is genuine, holding on to her simple song.
— As told to Lisa Iverstam, programme editor

La Cenerentola (2025). Ann-Kristin Jones (Angelina).
Photo: Håkan Larsson



