Marta Abba (25 June 1900 in Milan, Italy – 24 June 1988 in Milan) was an Italian actress.
She was the sister of another actress, Cele Abba. After their meeting in 1925 and until his death in 1936, Marta Abba was the stimulus to the playwright Luigi Pirandello's creativity. She was an aspiring young 25-year-old actress when she met the 58-year-old playwright, whose wife had been confined to a mental asylum in 1919. From their correspondence it comes out how she not only inspired him but she also gave the writer confidence in his work. Their relationship was complex but contributed much to the Italian theatre.
Pirandello was obsessive in pursuit of what could be presumed to have remained an unconsummated affair. Marta was the true great actress for whom he had been waiting after his earlier bitter disappointment with Eleonora Duse. Luigi Pirandello's and Marta Abba's letters to each other have been translated into English. Marta Abba and Pirandello teamed up in 1925, and she appeared in many of his productions at the Rome Arts Theater. In 1930, Abba founded her own theatrical company and specialized in staging the works of Pirandello and other European playwrights like George Bernard Shaw, Gabriele d'Annunzio and Carlo Goldoni under the direction of prestigious directors like Max Reinhardt and Guido Salvini.
Don't write a letter when you want to leave.
Don't call me at 3 A.M. from a friend's apartment.
I'd like to choose how I hear the news.
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.
Tell me on a Sunday please.
Let me down easy, no big song and dance.
No long faces, no long looks, no deep conversation.
I know the way we should spend the day.
Take me to a zoo that's got chimpanzees.
Tell me on a Sunday please.
Don't want to know who's to blame,
it won't help knowing.
Don't want to fight day and night
bad enough you're going.
Don't leave in silence with no words at all.
Don't get drunk and slam the door,
that's no way to end this,
I know how I want you to say goodbye.
Find a circus ring with a flying trapeze.
Tell me on a Sunday please.
I don't want to fight day and night,
bad enough you're going.
Don't leave in silence with no words at all.
Don't get drunk and slam the door,
that's no way to end this.
I know how I want you to say goodbye.
Don't run off in the pouring rain.
Don't call me as they call your plane.
Take that hurt out of all the pain.
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.