დიახთ. ვუსმენ. დომინგო ვიცი რაც იქნება. პრაისიც არ მიყვარს. პროსტა დიდი ხანია არ მომისმენია და რაღა პუჩინის ხასიათზე ვარ ბოლო დღეებში (რაც საკმაოდ იშვიათია

), ბარეღამ ჩავრთე.
მარტო რადიომუზას კომენტატორის მოსმენა რად ღირს.

ისე, ვიკიპედიაში შეხედვა ხანდახან სასარგებლოცაა. გემრიელად ვიცინე იმ "კურიოზებზე", რაც ტოსკას სხვადასხვა დადგმისას მოხდა:
Puccini had a devotion for precision that could not be fought. For the Te Deum procession, he arranged for one of Ricordi's workers to be sent to Rome, where he stayed several months to find whatever material available on that subject in shops, libraries, museums, etc.; finally, he received from an old friar the precise drawing of the role of each participant, and a set of 18 handpainted tablets describing it.
For the opening of Act III, Puccini asked a priest to decipher the precise tone of the bells of Castel Sant'Angelo, and notably the tone of the large bell of St. Peter's basilica (it is a natural mi (E)) so he was able to perform at the Teatro Costanzi a sound that was precise as only a recording would have been.
The tale of the bouncing Tosca: This supposedly occurred at the Lyric Opera of Chicago and involved a British soprano. As Tosca, she was supposed to leap to her death from the walls of Castel Sant'Angelo. Usually, the actress lands on a mattress. But the stage workers had thoughtfully improved her safety by replacing the mattress with a trampoline: the result was that Tosca appeared two or three times from behind the wall. (Another version describes this as an act of revenge for troublesome behavior by the soprano.) Eva Turner has admitted to being that Tosca, in a TV special hosted by Robert Merrill in which he interviewed some of the greatest Toscas of the century, including Eva Turner, Grace Bumbry, Renata Tebaldi, Zinka Milanov, Ljuba Welitsch and Birgit Nilsson, among others.
The collective suicide after shooting the wrong principal: Another delightful, but probably apocryphal, anecdote is the one which allegedly happened at the War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco - to the same "Bouncing Tosca" from Chicago.
The firing squad were played by supernumeraries who received last minute instruction to shoot the person they found onstage, and then to exit with the principals. However, When they got onstage, they discovered there were two people there instead of one. Not knowing which one to shoot, they wavered back and forth a bit as both principals said not to shoot them. They finally settled on Tosca, shot her, and looked bewildered when Mario keeled over dead. They also did not leave, since they were told to exit with the principals - and neither of the principals were exiting. Tosca made some gestures to shoo them away, but they remained onstage until Spoletta came in with the soldiers. When Tosca jumped from the parapet, they saw their chance to finally exit with at least one of the principals, and jumped down after her, giving a Shakespearean greatness to the final tragedy.
Soprano Renata Tebaldi, considered by many to be one of the best Toscas ever, was famous for her melodramatic cries in the final scenes. Once, in Tokyo, she decided not to jump for the final suicide, but chose instead to exit by the quinte, walking among the astonished policemen as only a diva could.
Famous baritone Tito Gobbi, a very original Scarpia, recalled a prima, or premiere, with Maria Callas, in which he had to improvise to save the diva in Act II. While he was on the floor, having just been killed, he realised that Callas was walking around the stage unable to find her way out. She had severe myopia and, while she could wear glasses during rehearsal, her eyes would not tolerate contact lenses. Gobbi tried to discreetly point out the exit, but started laughing so intensely that both his laughing and his pointing were seen by the audience. The morning after, the newspapers raved about his memorable portrayal of Scarpia's death throes. In other performances, he was able to whisper directions to her so that she could make a satisfactory exit.
In 1964, at London's Royal Opera House, Tito Gobbi was again with Callas. As he recounts in his autobiography[2], during a dress rehearsal of the duet in Act II, Callas moved close to the table, not realising that she was getting too close to the candles. Soon smoke could be seen coming from her wig. Gobbi pretended to attempt to embrace her, as he did so closing his hands over the fire in her hair. Not at first understanding what he was doing, Callas stared at him with a perplexed expression, so Gobbi extended his burnt hand very near to her face and then pointed to the candles. Callas interpolated her own “grazie, Tito.”
Gobbi also paid tribute to the ferocity of Callas’ acting in this role, noting that he was often afraid during their performances that she really would kill him in Act II. She very nearly did so, when the knife she was using failed to retract. Gobbi was cut, but not severely hurt, and with a cry of "My God!" went right on with his death scene.