Thanks for the memories...

I have to say that our semester’s work, culminating in this week’s illuminating discussions, have made me reevaluate the way I view opera. Honestly, this class has made me realize that when it comes to this art form, I am more conservative than I like to think. I like things in moderation, and I tend to take the art form too seriously. (How ironic then, that the very opera I chose to study makes a point of making fun of the traditional opera audience for that very thing.)I aim to change that in the future.

Reflecting on this week, I started to think about opera’s function in our modern society and the brilliant ideas that circulated in class this week about the fact that the term "opera" implies grandeur and a license to be ridiculously over-the-top and dramatic. Take for example, soap opera. The title of the genre encompasses all things dramatic and the similarities (at least on the plot level) are endless. Love triangles? Check. Illegitimate children? Check. Murder? Betrayal? Passion? Check. Check. Check. I mean, seriously, the transition from soap opera to opera would be easy. Someone write one now! How interesting would it be if there was a soap opera that emphasized the “opera” part of the genre and had all of the characters burst out into song when things got highly emotional (which, let’s face it, is just about every scene)? What if it was a soap opera about life in an opera house? I would so watch that.

Another point that interested me this week was the fact that operatic excerpts used in film, more often than not, highlight some sort of mental imbalance in the character. Perhaps that is because of all of the wacky characters in opera – that we are supposed to see some type of sympathy between the characters in film and those in opera? Or perhaps that type of emotionality is simply associated with people who are not quite sane.

~

This course has left me with so many questions. For example, I wonder how opera has devolved from the prime entertainment of its day into something that is so elitist and disassociated from society. Among other things, I also wonder if we will see this change in our lifetimes…


Well, it’s officially time to close this chapter of my love affair with American Opera.

So, for now, that’s all folks!

American Opera Since 1950, a sequel?

This idea came to me in class on Friday...one of the themes of our course would make a fabulous seminar all by itself. I think someone really needs to teach a special topics class on the intersection of opera and film. It seems like the topic has come up in just about every piece we have talked about this semester.

My ideas aren’t fully formed yet, but here are some things I would like to see explored in such a hypothetical course:

The influence of film on opera

For one, the use of projections or graphic images in the production of opera has changed the way companies think of set design and visual aesthetics and brought a new dimension to the visual aspects of opera. In terms of this, I am thinking of the Robert LePage production of Le Damnation de Faust and his use of interactive projections that reacted to the performers. Secondly, there were many times during the class when we pointed out that the score sounded like a film score (such as in The Aspern Papers), so those aesthetics would be interesting to explore. Which leads me to a second topic:

The use of opera in film

I think this could encompass the way film scores function, as well as how opera functions in terms of mood, character, or time period. In addition, there are many operatic scenes one could look at in film (I'm sorry, but I can’t help but think of Pretty Woman). How do they function? How do they reflect society’s idea of opera? Is that perception different in different countries (for example, how is opera used in French film)?

Opera on film

Considering the increasing number of operas on film, as well as the Metropolitan Opera’s “Live in HD” program, I think this is important to talk about. Much of the discussion we had this semester touched on the different effects which viewing opera on film and viewing live opera had on the viewer. I would include a discussion of filmed live opera vs. operas that have been made into films. I think it would be particularly interesting to explore the criticism as well as the public’s reaction to the “Live in HD” program and its effects (if any are measurable) on the world of opera. I think this should also encompass a discussion of operatic films (such as The Umbrellas of Cherbourg) and opera based on film (such as Dead Man Walking). Which would be a nice transition to…

Modern opera/rock opera, and its intersection with film

I think our discussion this week really forced a lot of us to think outside the box, which is extremely valuable. I would like to see those ideas explored more fully. I think they may be integral to the future of opera.

First impressions

I know we haven’t gotten to “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead” yet, but I went to see a concert of excerpts from it this weekend and I just had to share my first impressions of the work.

I must say that the first time I looked at the Youtube clip of the questions game in operatic form, I had just watched the film and was a little bit put-off by the Broadway-esque translation of the text into vocal music. I felt that it didn’t honor the wit and darkness of the script. However, hearing it for the second time, with six other scenes to frame it, I felt that it was very effective and, at the very least, entertaining.

In general, the music for “Rosencrantz” is extremely accessible, tonal, and neo-romantic sounding, with lush harmonies and supple melodies. Herschel Garfein, both composer and librettist, does a fairly nice job of maintaining a certain speech-like pacing that doesn’t undermine the original dialogue.

At the after concert discussion, the composer said that it was Mark Morris, who directed the staged reading in New York, that suggested to him that both Rosencrantz and Guildenstern should be baritones. This cleverly plays into one of the running jokes in the play, which is that everyone, including themselves, cannot figure out which one is Rosencrantz and which one is Guildenstern.

In general, the favorite scenes (according to one of the singers, and a critic) were the arias which Garfein wrote for the character of Alfred, a pants role, sung exquisitely by mezzo Krista River. Garfein took the opportunity to use the character of Alfred to liberate some of Guildenstern’s more philosophical monologues, and the effect is really touching. His/her arias “The Unicorn Song” and “The Butterfly Song” were the highlights of the work for me as well.

Overall, I found the excerpts to be really charming and promising. I look forward to seeing the entire work staged some time in the near future.

Late night thoughts

Forgive me if this rambles a bit.

I was a little bit surprised at the reaction I had this week to "American Idiot." Honestly, I hadn't really thought of myself as much of an "opera elitist" until then. I have a long background in musical theater and a strong love for contemporary works, which often require some flexibility when it comes to one's expectations. I tend to have an open mind when it comes to music. Somehow, though, our discussion on Thursday really hit a nerve.

I recognize, as my classmates have, that rock opera is not classical opera. It is operatic only in the sense that the entire work is composed of music, rather than interspersed with dialogue. But it makes me wonder whether someone seeing a rock opera would be at all inspired to see a traditional opera. It seems unlikely. Might kids a century from now think of this as opera? I think part of my reaction was tied up in the placement of this work at the end of the line of ‘traditional’ operas we have been looking at. Even after looking at many different ideas within the American Opera idiom, “American Idiot” seems a far cry from all of them.

What I will say is this; my negative reaction is absolutely driven by ego and fear. Fear of what might happen if all of the energy and money I have spent on degrees in classical voice is going to waste. Fear of not being able to find a job after graduate school. Fear of not being able to make a living. etc. etc. etc. It feels a little like defending my territory.

Perhaps I do need to think more flexibly about this work and the rock opera tradition in general, but if someday in the future the progression of operatic tradition ends with rock opera, you can bet that I will be the old lady sitting at home listening to her CDs of La Traviata and weeping for the good old days.

[Note: Speaking of pop/ rock and opera…did you know that Rufus Wainwright had composed on opera, Prima Donna, that was commissioned by the Metropolitan Opera, but they canceled it because he wrote it in French? Take a look at this video. On a related note, this video just goes to show that the way it is sung and orchestrated is a huge part of determining the style of a work.]

Thinking on Paper

Basically, all of my ideas just need to go on paper at this point, so I will use this blog to try and organize my thoughts.

Before Maestro Levine asked him to compose an opera, John Corigliano was primarily an instrumental (albeit programmatic) composer. He was not entirely for the idea of writing an opera, citing come issues with operatic conventions (and boy does this come through in the work..). However, when the Metropolitan opera asks, you don’t say no. The work was commissioned for the Met centennial in 1979 and the premiere was set for 1983 (it didn’t actually premiere until 1991, however). It was the first work by an American composer to be commissioned after the spectacle that was Barber’s “Anthony and Cleopatra,” and critics have certainly made a few superficial comparisons between the two.

The work is based on the premise that the ghosts of the court of Versailles at the time of the French Revolution now haunt the palace. These include the ghost of Marie Antoinette, the playwright Beaumarchais (who is in love with Marie Antoinette), and her husband King Louis XVI as well as various other courtiers. Beaumarchais creates a work based on the third play in his Figaro trilogy, “La Mère Coupable” to entertain the court, only, he intends to change history with it and make it so that Marie Antoinette did not die by guillotine, but instead escaped to the new world with him.

There are two major ideas that pervade the work. The first is that the opera plays with the idea of time. The composer says it is set in three planes that occur simultaneously: a type of limbo where the ghosts reside in Versailles, the world of Beaumarchais’ opera, and the world of history, specifically the period of the French revolution. The characters of the ghost world are framed by the historical where they lived and died and they also interact with the characters in the opera, even blurring the lines between performer and audience. On a more mechanical level, Corigliano’s composition style is one that often blurs the meter or creates a sense of ‘timelessness’ in the music.

The second theme is one of subversion. Throughout the opera, Corigliano and his librettist, William M. Hoffman, subvert the expectations of the audience, making fun of operatic traditions, and specifically beliefs/roles held by operatic audiences. For example, Corigliano labels the work “A Grand Buffo Opera”, mixing traditional labels and traditions. This subversion is heightened by Corigliano’s use of older compositional styles and borrowed phrases from the Figaro operas of Mozart and Rossini. There are many points in the opera where the audience is made to laugh at itself. The opera seems to say, ‘Please, don’t take yourselves so seriously!’ To me, the work is hilarious. To many critics, it was utterly bombastic.

I think this work has real merit in the operatic repertoire. It is challenging for all of the singers, but the music is primarily accessible to an audience who doesn’t know opera (although, all of the inside jokes are intended for an opera-loving audience). Moreover, it is funny in a modern way! The difficulty in putting the work up, however, is its grand nature and the extensive effects that it requires. It was created for the Metropolitan Opera. It’s hard for most theaters to match their resources. Thankfully, there have been other productions of this opera and in answer to this question, Corigliano has created a reduced version of his work.

Thinking outside of the box

Reading other people’s blogs on their paper progress has been fascinating for me. What I love about this class is the amount of diversity of opinion and interest within the group. These presentations are going to be awesome!

In my search for sources, I was delighted to find a video of the original Metropolitan Opera production of “The Ghosts of Versailles”. It gave me quite a bit of insight into the work, as well as an appreciation for its conception (It was written expressly to be premiered by the Metropolitan Opera). Reading the libretto and watching the video, I started to notice that while many aspects of the work seem explicitly theatrical (in many ways, the work is a satire of the institution that is opera), many other aspects of the work seem very film-oriented. I was inspired by all of our discussions about the confluence of film and opera in recent times and decided to focus my creative project on turning the work into an opera for film. I believe that the fantastical elements of the work, while a pain-and-a-half for a theater to try and convey, are almost commonplace effects in film and I feel that they would be extremely effective in a film setting. For example, in the second act, the Beaumarchais character of the ghost-world steps into the opera he has created and becomes human in the process. In the theater that takes a large leap of faith on the part of the audience; however, how many films has one seen where something like that happens? Being a product of this time period and (before this work) not primarily an opera composer, I think John Corigliano shows a large affinity for filmic effects. This is all to say that for my creative project, I am working on doing some preliminary story-boarding of the two arias which I have analyzed for my paper. I think the trick in doing so will be to figure out how to preserve the theatrical nature of the work so that the satire can shine through.

[Side note: In my search for a score of John Corigliano’s “The Ghosts of Versailles”, I found that the one and only copy I could get access to is located at the performing arts branch of the New York Public Library at Lincoln Center. It is a part of their research collections, meaning that I had to check my bag and coat and enter a sealed viewing room (they are really careful about this resources). I put in my request and a librarian went into the hidden depths of the library and emerged with a box about 2 feet wide and 3 feet long that contained an unbound orchestral score of the opera. So cool. I can’t get over it.]

An American Greek Tragedy

What interested me greatly about our class discussion on Friday was the consensus that this opera did not need to be updated to make it feel more relevant. Even, that updating it would change the very essence of the work, rather than enhance it. I find that one can’t necessarily apply that label to all of the operas we have studied this semester. The Death of Klinghoffer, while striving to have a broad message, is limited by its controversial subject matter and treatment of said subject matter. Willie Stark seems limited by its unfulfilled realization of the necessary unification between drama and music. The Aspern Papers, while lyrically satisfying, hasn’t stuck in the repertory either somehow. There is something that I found to be so satisfying about the way in which Bolcom melded popular idioms with operatic vocal writing. This piece seems to me to have the perfect balance of drama and music. Now, granted, I grew up listening to jazz, so the jazz influence in classical music (read: Bolcom’s idiomatic use of popular music) is what I particularly love about this period of American Music.

It struck me that this piece has a certain timelessness to it, even though it is so firmly set in its own time period. I think that one of the main reasons for this is the fact that Bolcom (and Arthur Miller) conceived the work as a modern Greek drama, complete with tragic hero. There are many elements of this story that are familiar to us as an audience. They allow us to be comfortable with the characters and the story; we’ve seen them before. In the opera, the chorus’ opening scene and the existence of the chorus leader, Alfieri, as well as the prescient chorus itself, serve to frame the Greek tragic elements of the work. They heighten the claustrophobia in the work, acting as the community of Red Hook as well as the Italian community that the characters had left. Like many a Greek tragedy, the audience knows from the opening lines (or orchestral tones in this case) that the piece cannot end happily. Indeed, the orchestra tells us the ending. There is no mistaking it. The oppression of fate throughout the work (we are told repeatedly that Eddie had no choice, he was doomed to fulfill his tragic destiny) is particularly referential, as is the framing of Eddie as the tragic hero (basically a good guy with a large flaw that he cannot see). In the program/liner notes both Bolcom and Miller commented on the essential passion of the characters in the work, citing that such open passion is both essentially in the tradition of the Greek tragedy and essentially operatic. It is no wonder that the piece leant itself to being set to music.