The Tarantella
is the most iconic popular dance of southern Italy. There
are many different variations; thus, we hear of the
Neapolitan, the Sorrentine, the Calabrian, the Sicilian
tarantella, etc. etc. The term, itself, may refer to the
dance or just to the music; there are, in fact, a number
of instrumental tarantellas in the classical music
repertoire, compositions by Rossini, Tchaikovsky,
Mendelsohn, Stravinsky, and others. Additionally, there
are such things as the ballet, Tarantella, by
George Balanchine, set to Louis Moreau Gottschalk's 1859 Grande
Tarantelle, Op. 67, for piano . Musically, the
tarantella is commonly in a very fast version of the
ONE-two-three, ONE-two-three rhythm usually
called 6/8 time in music. Probably the best-known Neapolitan song written in that
rhythm is Funiculì-Funiculà,
composed in 1880 by Giuseppe Turco (words) and Luigi Denza
(music). There are countless applications of the rapid
tarantella rhythm in popular music, including the Fairy
Godmother's song "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" from Disney's 1950
film, Cinderella. Also, some poetry has the same ONE-two-three
rhythm to it (called "dactylic meter"). Here—try reciting
the opening of Longfellow's Evangeline over and
over, faster than you think is humanly possibly: "THIS
is the FORest priMEval. The MURmuring
PINES and the HEMlocks..." Now, grab a
tambourine and you're in business.
Musical instruments that
accompany the tarantella dance are commonly the
mandolin, guitar, accordion, and tambourine,
augmented by other typical
local instruments. (The tambourine is so
integral to the music that in Naples one kind of
tarantella is also called the "tammurriata"
from the dialect word for a large tambourine.) The
dance, itself, may be roughly as shown in the above
illustration; that is, couples in which one member
dances for the other. One member may be kneeling.
The dance partners can be a man and a woman or a
couple composed of two women (Goethe described a
version in his Italian Journey involving
three women partners dancing the tarantella.) The
steps are nimble and the dancing involves a lot of
whirling, flirtatious glances, and close approaches.
With multiple couples, the tarantella is a circle
dance alternating from clockwise to
counter-clockwise and back as the music progresses,
picking up speed as it goes. As with much southern
Italian music, there are frequent alternations of
major and minor keys. The lyrics are recited by a
central singer/speaker. The name "tarantella" comes
from the southern town of Taranto, on the inside of
the "heel" of Italy on the Ionian sea. The etymology
is not mysterious, but there is at least one
mystery; that is, whether or not the dance is
covered by the term "dance mania" as some sources
seem to think. The phrase "dance
mania" has no doubt been used by parents
throughout the ages to refer to whatever
choreographic frenzy their teen-aged children
are engaged in at any given moment. Rightfully,
however, "dance mania" (also "choreomania")
refers to a series of strange episodes between
the 1300s and 1600s that saw many hundreds (and
even thousands) of persons in Europe suddenly
get up and engage in mass dancing until they
dropped from exhaustion. It is still not clear
whether such activity was a social
phenomenon—some sort of mass hysteria—or whether
there was a physical cause, perhaps food
poisoning. Regardless of the cause, a number of
terms such as St. Vitus Dance and the
Tarantella are often jumbled together in
discussions of "dance mania" since they seem to
be related phenomena.
There are, for
example, a number of places in Italy, including
the town of Forio on the island of Ischia in the
bay of Naples, that have San Vito (St. Vitus) as
their patron saint and where ritual dancing
takes place on June 15, the feast day of the
saint. There are also at least a half-dozen
towns in Italy named San Vito, including one
near Benevento and one in Calabria. There are
also a few towns named Sankt Veit in
German-speaking Europe. Vitus was, indeed, an
historical saint from Sicily, martyred during
the persecution of Christians around the year
300. For unknown reasons, the type of frenetic
dancing popularly called St. Vitus Dance arose
in Germany in the 1500s. Scientifically, such
behavior was later renamed Sydenham's chorea
after Thomas Sydenham (1624 – 1689) an English
physician known as 'The English Hippocrates’.
The condition is described in the literature as
one of a group of abnormal involuntary movement
disorders. It is a major sign of acute rheumatic
fever, an inflammatory disease caused by a
streptococcal infection. Symptoms include
twitching, loss of fine motor control and loss
of emotional control with bouts of inappropriate
crying or laughing. St. Vitus Dance looks
superficially related to St. Anthony's Fire,
a disease caused by ergotism, from the eating of
infected grain, the symptoms of which included
convulsions, erratic movements and even
hallucinations (LSD is a derivative of ergot).
(See the above link for an item on the
church/monastery of Sant' Antonio Abate in
Naples founded in the Middle Ages to treat the
afflicted.) There is, however, to my knowledge,
no dance associated with Sant' Antonio in
imitation of movements caused by the condition.
The Tarantella dance
has given us the name "tarantism," described as
an hysterical malady, marked by an extreme
impulse to dance. From the 15th to 17th century
there was an epidemic of such dancing in the
Puglia (Apulia) region of Italy where the city
of Taranto is located. The dancing is connected
to the venomous bite or sting of the tarantula.
The little beastie in question is the local wolf
spider (Lycosa tarantula), at least once
upon a time found throughout the area. The
question is whether the bite caused you to start
displaying dance-like symptoms the way diseased
grain causes ergotism and a streptococcal
infection causes "St. Vitus Dance" or whether
you and your also-bitten friends
voluntarily started to dance because that
made you sweat and rid your system of the venom.
We may never know because as it turns out, the
bite of this particular spider of the
Lycosidae family is not very venomous
(unlike the more poisonous North American
tarantula of the Theraphosidae family).
Thus, even if you never danced, you would have
survived, but at least the devotees of
Tarantella dancing can claim a high cure rate!
(Spoil-sports like to point out, however, that
there is, or was, the very poisonous
Mediterranean black-widow spider, Latrodectus
tredecimguttatus, in the area, which fact
might be at the root of a justifiable concern of
dying from spider venom.) The town of Taranto
does not take its name from the spider; it's the
other way round. The Romans called the place
Tarantum, a variation of Taras, the name
given to the site by the first Greek settlers as
Magna Grecia spread
throughout the Mediterranean in around 600 BC.
In Greek mythology, Taras was the son of
Poseidon, the sea-god.
A few other
considerations are perhaps examples of
over-analysis, but fun nonetheless. Some say
that the whole dancing frenzy was simply an
excuse to get around religious proscriptions
against dancing. Also, maybe the frequent
occurrence of female couples in the dance had to
do with female sexual desires in areas of Europe
at a time when sexual freedom was discouraged;
in other words, repressed women could let off
steam. Also, in literature one well-known
example of the tarantella as a metaphor of
liberation from patriarchal and matrimonial
repression occurs in Henrik Ibsen's play A
Doll's House (Et dukkehjem in the
original Norwegian; also translated as A
Doll House), first performed in 1879. Nora
Helmer is expected to act like a good-natured
bird-brain first by her father and then her
husband. She escapes to be her own person by
stalking out of the "poison" of her marriage
after first dancing a tarantella (tambourine and
all!). In the play, the reference to the
"tarantella" is repeated and obvious; indeed,
Nora says that she is going to a party as a
Neapolitan fisher-girl, and dance the Tarantella
that she learned at Capri. The play, which
features her slamming the door as she leaves at
the end of the last act, so scandalized
bourgeois theater-goers that some theaters
refused to play it unless Ibsen wrote an
alternate, less drastic ending. He did and said
that he hated it. (That version was eventually
abandoned and the original is now played
everywhere.) Ibsen said that he did not
intentionally mean the play to be about women's
rights but about human rights, in general. In
spite of that, the play is now part of UNESCO's
Memory of the World Programme, which says
A Doll's House is an
exceptional achievement. In spite of Nora's
uncertain future prospects —facing the
problems a divorced woman without means would
face in nineteenth century society— she has
served and serves as a symbol throughout the
world, for women fighting for liberation and
equality.
Finally, in spite of the British
military's mispronunciation of something they call
"Tuh-RAEN-to Night" to mark the
first successful carrier-based air-raid on an
enemy port, Taranto, on November 11, 1940, the
correct Italian pronunciation of Taranto has the
accent on the first syllable, TA-ran-to.
It is not to be confused with the Canadian town of
To-RON-to. I have friends from there, and
they assure me that there is no native Canadian
dance called the Torontella.