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.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Trends in American Opera
After listening to A View from the Bridge this week, it began to occur to me that one could divine a few trends in the operas that we have been studying this semester. It seems to me that one could begin to identify three separate branches of the ‘American opera style’, if one can really say that there is any unified sense of style in American opera at all.
The first group is minimalism. I’m going to set that aside for a bit because it is clearly its own category apart from the majority of the other works we classify as ‘American Opera’.
For the time being (because I can’t find more concise labels at the moment), I will call the other two categories “rural-themed” works and “urban-themed” works. Perhaps these are extremely naïve labels. What I mean is that on one hand we have operatic works by composers such as Copland and Floyd that are influenced by and encompass the music of the South and the Mid-West, of wide-open prairies and folk music. On the other hand, we get works like A View from the Bridge which are categorized by a certain edgy, gritty, claustrophobic feeling and a clear Jazz influence. I would argue that “rural-themed” works stem from the symphonic folk-influenced tradition of Copland, tending towards more lyric expression and that “urban-themed” works tend towards what we hinted at as being closer to a new verismo style (possibly more influenced by musical theater traditions). In any case, both of those categories aim to integrate popular, idiomatic music and sound into the operatic genre.
Despite those differences, over the semester we have seen many similarities between the operas we have studied. All of the operas have put a premium on finding that balance between the drama and the music that would make the work accessible. In the case of A View from the Bridge and Willie Stark, I would argue that the balance tipped toward the text, whereas in The Aspern Papers and Satyagraha the balance tipped toward the music. We have noticed the influence of film that has pervaded operas in terms of production design, acting/text setting style, marketing, and choice of medium (i.e. operas that were turned into films). Film influence is also clear in the apparent move of opera toward realism, wherein the characters seem closer to our own lives than elaborate fantasy or mythic characters (where have all the heroes gone?) and where happy endings seldom exist.
[Note: This idea of the division between ‘rural-themed’ and ‘urban-themed’ was sort of spurred by the observation that A View from the Bridge seemed to me to be a sort of citified version of Copland’s The Tenderland. Secondly, I have no idea where Aspern Papers falls in terms this rough division]
Monday, March 15, 2010
Impressions of John Adams
In watching 'The Death of Klinghoffer', I found that the music was what really moved me in the production I viewed, and that the images often distracted me. I felt, in some ways, that they took away from the raw power of the music. There is an enormous amount of emotion in that music.
In fact, I was planning on writing a blog about how one branch of new opera seems to stem from Wagner’s "gesamtkunstwerk" ideal in its necessity for pairing the music with a visual aspect (per our discussion of Satyagraha), but I’m not sure that is completely true after watching this opera. I think that Adams' music alone carries a lot of power (perhaps it is my knowing the background of the work already that created this impression) .
“But the Minimalist manner is just one expressive tool in a vast box, used to elongate a moment, to suggest a feeling of the unreal, to evoke a sense of the ominous. Adam’s constant awareness of creating an organism and of the part that colour and idiomatic instrumental writing play, together with his always expressive vocal lines, are non-Minimalist. The final evidence is that the music never simply fills a space, but creates its own sense of time and motion, goes somewhere, does something.”
A few specific compositional choices in 'Klinghoffer' stood out to me. Upon reading the DVD notes, I initially questioned Adams' choice to cast the youngest of the terrorists, Omar, as a mezzo-soprano. It seemed to me to be a strange and possibly out-dated choice. However, Omar's aria comes directly before Mrs. Klinghoffer's aria in the work, making the audience effectively contrast the two characters (or two sides). Making them both female voices only heightens the comparison. I found that this type of comparison was key to Adams idea of balance within the work. In the opera, one rarely gets one side's opinion without getting the other side's voice soon after it. For example, Klinghoffer's first aria is followed by Rambo's response, each of which contain stereotypical opinions of the other, highlighting the misunderstanding between the two characters. In the same vein, to my ears it seemed that all of the male voices sung in the same tessitura much of the time, creating the aural illusion of equality.
Although I may not have given it the attention it deserved, I found that this opera really affected me and pieces of it have been running around in my brain since. One line, specifically, keeps coming back to me, as it seems to sum up the message of the work. After Mamoud's first aria, the Captain responds, “If you spoke like this sitting among your enemies, there would be peace”. It is a sentiment that is extremely timely. It almost makes me think that someone needs to put this opera on again in a revised version that uses the concessions of the film to create sympathy and brings out the messages of the piece loud and clear. Is there some very brave company out there that would take this on?
Impressions of 'Klinghoffer'
Coming to the film with our class discussions echoing in my head, I found that my reactions to the work were tempered, even analytical. Perhaps it was the fact that, as Shelley suggested, we are so desensitized to violence these days. Perhaps it was the fact that I expected the subject matter to be emotionally gut-wrenching and so I actively distanced myself from what I was seeing. Or perhaps it was simply the responsibility of having to respond the opera in a somewhat academic fashion. Whatever the case, I found that I had trouble coaxing myself to be completely involved in what I was seeing.
Having all of that background information upon viewing the film, it was striking to me how extensively the film version revised the work. In terms of the arguments that were covered in Fink's article, I did find those revisions to be effective. Intertwining the background stories and documentary footage certainly created more balance and sympathy. It made me wonder whether the overall reaction would have been more positive had the stage version used those same insertions or references.
That being said, unlike many of my classmates, in this instance I found the film medium to be distracting. The production seemed to incorporate many concessions of the stage, like the captain talking to the camera. To me, it felt like the two mediums (stage and film) were either not separate enough to make it clear that it was a theater piece that had been transposed to film, or not integrated enough to convince me that it was a film version of an opera. I found the mixing of mediums to be disorienting and felt that many of the moments would have been much more beautiful and effective on stage. Perhaps, however, this was simply me feeling uncomfortable with what I was watching and longing for the safety of a theater environment. After all, in an opera house, there is a certain distance that one is very aware of as an audience member. The film industry has actively tried to erase that self-awareness of the audience by the use of such techniques as close-ups, shots from the character's point of view, and now IMAX and 3D technology.
I feel that our discussions certainly influenced the way I viewed the piece and, per our discussions about marketing on Friday, perhaps educating the audience would be an effective way of presenting this piece. Going back to my earlier comment about the insertions of the documentary scenes, I would really like to see a modern production of this piece that used the additions that the film brought to the table. Like Jen Leigh, I think this piece would be very effective in a smaller theater, where the audience would have the benefit of seeing things up close (one benefit that film affords us). In terms of marketing, what became clear to me through Friday’s discussion was that in putting up this production, a company would have to want to make a statement. One can’t put this up expecting people to digest it the same way they do the standard repertoire. It is a risk, and I think any company would simply have to decide which aspect of the production they would accept criticism for, because, as we said, ‘You’re damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.’
Having all of that background information upon viewing the film, it was striking to me how extensively the film version revised the work. In terms of the arguments that were covered in Fink's article, I did find those revisions to be effective. Intertwining the background stories and documentary footage certainly created more balance and sympathy. It made me wonder whether the overall reaction would have been more positive had the stage version used those same insertions or references.
That being said, unlike many of my classmates, in this instance I found the film medium to be distracting. The production seemed to incorporate many concessions of the stage, like the captain talking to the camera. To me, it felt like the two mediums (stage and film) were either not separate enough to make it clear that it was a theater piece that had been transposed to film, or not integrated enough to convince me that it was a film version of an opera. I found the mixing of mediums to be disorienting and felt that many of the moments would have been much more beautiful and effective on stage. Perhaps, however, this was simply me feeling uncomfortable with what I was watching and longing for the safety of a theater environment. After all, in an opera house, there is a certain distance that one is very aware of as an audience member. The film industry has actively tried to erase that self-awareness of the audience by the use of such techniques as close-ups, shots from the character's point of view, and now IMAX and 3D technology.
I feel that our discussions certainly influenced the way I viewed the piece and, per our discussions about marketing on Friday, perhaps educating the audience would be an effective way of presenting this piece. Going back to my earlier comment about the insertions of the documentary scenes, I would really like to see a modern production of this piece that used the additions that the film brought to the table. Like Jen Leigh, I think this piece would be very effective in a smaller theater, where the audience would have the benefit of seeing things up close (one benefit that film affords us). In terms of marketing, what became clear to me through Friday’s discussion was that in putting up this production, a company would have to want to make a statement. One can’t put this up expecting people to digest it the same way they do the standard repertoire. It is a risk, and I think any company would simply have to decide which aspect of the production they would accept criticism for, because, as we said, ‘You’re damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.’
Monday, March 8, 2010
Art talking about art
One of the things that I found so lovely about Argento's version of The Aspern Papers was the change he made to the character of Aspern himself. By changing Aspern from a writer to a composer, specifically a composer of opera, Argento allowed his work to be somewhat self-reflective. This is evident to me in his exploration of the timelessness in art that is expressed by Aspern in the duet with Juliana. The scenes from 1835 are the ones that Argento invented, so it seems to me that, in a way, Aspern acts as Argento's mouthpiece. That addition adds another layer to the work in terms of the plot, but it also explores the creative process and makes the audience aware of their own part in the story...
As one of my classmates brought up, there is a religiosity to Argento’s (and James’?) treatment of Aspern and his work. Unlike the novella, where the work is this undefined shapeless thing, Argento gives form to the sacred work, both through the use of a prop on stage and the creation of music in the score that represents and is supposedly drawn from Aspern’s work (Juliana is rehearsing it, then it comes back as the work is burned).
In the duet, many things that are said by Aspern and Juliana touch on the theme of art. Juliana’s assertion that, “the joy I can share, but the glory belongs solely to you,” speaks to the process of composition and the power of art has to live beyond its creator. The characters talk about the performance process (“A hundred years from now, upon a lighted stage…”) and the rediscovery of a work (“ A thousand years from now, from off some dusty shelf...”). They explore the permanency of art, as well as its power to freeze moments in time. As Aspern and Juliana say repeatedly, “They will know it celebrates our eternal love.” So, they assert, music has the power to hold love and to transmit that love throughout time. As one of the writers described the last scene, they said that each character appears as the pages of the score are burned, hinting that not only do the pages contain living art, they contain memories as well.
For in truth, I had forgotten what an attractive thing the world is...
I was really drawn to the music of The Aspern Papers. Argento has a very unique, gracious way of writing for the voice and his use of the singers and the orchestra in the selections we listened to was just mesmerizing for me, personally. I wish we could have seen more of the work, but in order to get some idea of Argento's style I listened and watched the two available clips repeatedly. Here is a sort of winding analysis of the two clips, specifically their contrasting qualities and their similarities.
~1835: Juliana and Aspern~
I found it interesting that the first section of this duet uses recitative-like writing with the orchestra simply sustaining chords underneath the singers. Soon after, in what I see as a sly nod to the Belcanto diva, Argento gives Juliana a duet with a woodwind during early phrases of her solo singing ("The way I always feel when a performance is over. The way I always feel at the end of summer.") that highlights the nostalgia in her sentiments. To bring out the idea that the characters aren't really connecting in this moment, Argento highlights Aspern's lines with a woodwind tremolo so that Juliana's duet partner changes mood dramatically as Aspern responds to her.
I find it interesting that the most melodic writing in this scene seems to come in the orchestral interlude when Juliana kisses Aspern. The duet, with each character in canon throughout seems to evoke the contrapuntal writing of an earlier time, as does (for me) the repetition of phrases of text (although this is also emblematic of the fact that both characters seem slightly unsure about their relationship at the time). The lines seem to weave in and out of each other so that one catches brief fragments of each before they become part of the full texture again. There is a certain blurriness to the writing, as if Argento is trying to evoke the way memory works. It seems to me that there is a certain timelessness in the duet in that there is very little sense of downbeat or meter in the music and it often seems to hover in and out of keys, not staying firmly in one or that other. In the canonic writing (can one call it that when the lines are not exactly the same?) the tonicization of one singer's line seems to be undermined constantly by the entrance of the other like. This gives the whole scene this sort of shimmery, unstable energy for my ear.
I find it interesting that the two characters/singers first truly unite when singing those nature-laden phrases which seem to hold such dichotomies ("Snow and cypress...glacier and leaf...the Ice Age and the golden months of summer..."). They are united, but the tonality (or chromaticism) of the opera seems to betray their doomed relationship. [On a side note: That unification of melody made me wonder if perhaps that is a line from Aspern's work Medea, which one can supposedly hear in Argento's score repeatedly...]
~1895: Ms. Tina and the Lodger~
In a similar manner, this part starts with Tina singing a recit-like phrase, for which the orchestra quiets completely before asserting the main melodic idea. Argento's writing seems to be less linear in this aria, and less symmetrical in a way. While the duet seemed Italianate, this style alternates between an almost French coloristic sensibility and a pure American sense of melody. The chromaticism in this aria stands out more as well; it seems somehow more pointed. Interestingly, for my taste, there is there is more of a sense of melody present in this piece of the opera (I wonder if that is a general difference between Argento's painting of the two time periods). To me, there is a different sense of solidity to Ms. Tina's aria. I love that she seems to be drawn back to the same notes over and over again. Argento really captures the sweetness of that moment in time and her joy and love for the world.
~Commonalities~
To me, Argento's music sounds like an old black-and-white film score in many ways; the way he uses the strings, brass and woodwinds imagistically seems to evoke another time. I find his use of brass to highlight the most euphoric, climactic phrases or emotions really intriguing. In the duet ("Nothing abides unaltered...love will endure") it seems to undermine the joy expressed by the singers, yet in the aria it comes at a point where it seems to wrench the audience from the calm picture Argento had set up ("the bright shop windows"..."as if all the world was out-of-doors"). Lastly, I think one of the things that makes Argento's writing feel Italianate is the fact that his use of chromaticism doesn't scream at us. In the duet it seems almost functional and in the aria it is used for inflective purposes.
In conclusion, the more I listened to these two clips, the more I found to listen to. I would really love to hear/see this work in its entirety.
~1835: Juliana and Aspern~
I found it interesting that the first section of this duet uses recitative-like writing with the orchestra simply sustaining chords underneath the singers. Soon after, in what I see as a sly nod to the Belcanto diva, Argento gives Juliana a duet with a woodwind during early phrases of her solo singing ("The way I always feel when a performance is over. The way I always feel at the end of summer.") that highlights the nostalgia in her sentiments. To bring out the idea that the characters aren't really connecting in this moment, Argento highlights Aspern's lines with a woodwind tremolo so that Juliana's duet partner changes mood dramatically as Aspern responds to her.
I find it interesting that the most melodic writing in this scene seems to come in the orchestral interlude when Juliana kisses Aspern. The duet, with each character in canon throughout seems to evoke the contrapuntal writing of an earlier time, as does (for me) the repetition of phrases of text (although this is also emblematic of the fact that both characters seem slightly unsure about their relationship at the time). The lines seem to weave in and out of each other so that one catches brief fragments of each before they become part of the full texture again. There is a certain blurriness to the writing, as if Argento is trying to evoke the way memory works. It seems to me that there is a certain timelessness in the duet in that there is very little sense of downbeat or meter in the music and it often seems to hover in and out of keys, not staying firmly in one or that other. In the canonic writing (can one call it that when the lines are not exactly the same?) the tonicization of one singer's line seems to be undermined constantly by the entrance of the other like. This gives the whole scene this sort of shimmery, unstable energy for my ear.
I find it interesting that the two characters/singers first truly unite when singing those nature-laden phrases which seem to hold such dichotomies ("Snow and cypress...glacier and leaf...the Ice Age and the golden months of summer..."). They are united, but the tonality (or chromaticism) of the opera seems to betray their doomed relationship. [On a side note: That unification of melody made me wonder if perhaps that is a line from Aspern's work Medea, which one can supposedly hear in Argento's score repeatedly...]
~1895: Ms. Tina and the Lodger~
In a similar manner, this part starts with Tina singing a recit-like phrase, for which the orchestra quiets completely before asserting the main melodic idea. Argento's writing seems to be less linear in this aria, and less symmetrical in a way. While the duet seemed Italianate, this style alternates between an almost French coloristic sensibility and a pure American sense of melody. The chromaticism in this aria stands out more as well; it seems somehow more pointed. Interestingly, for my taste, there is there is more of a sense of melody present in this piece of the opera (I wonder if that is a general difference between Argento's painting of the two time periods). To me, there is a different sense of solidity to Ms. Tina's aria. I love that she seems to be drawn back to the same notes over and over again. Argento really captures the sweetness of that moment in time and her joy and love for the world.
~Commonalities~
To me, Argento's music sounds like an old black-and-white film score in many ways; the way he uses the strings, brass and woodwinds imagistically seems to evoke another time. I find his use of brass to highlight the most euphoric, climactic phrases or emotions really intriguing. In the duet ("Nothing abides unaltered...love will endure") it seems to undermine the joy expressed by the singers, yet in the aria it comes at a point where it seems to wrench the audience from the calm picture Argento had set up ("the bright shop windows"..."as if all the world was out-of-doors"). Lastly, I think one of the things that makes Argento's writing feel Italianate is the fact that his use of chromaticism doesn't scream at us. In the duet it seems almost functional and in the aria it is used for inflective purposes.
In conclusion, the more I listened to these two clips, the more I found to listen to. I would really love to hear/see this work in its entirety.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Musings, part 2
While writing my last post, I found myself continually referring to "Willie Stark" as a play or a work, rather than an opera. While I maintain that there is some beautiful, affecting music in the piece, somehow, the story is what most engaged me about the work (see...there it is again).
I'm not sure how I feel about that. On one level, that sort of troubles me because part of me argues that “opera is all about the music”, while the other part says, “no, opera is about the storytelling.” In that sense, I think Floyd did succeed. I found the story to be engaging and entertaining and I find that the characters of this opera have stayed with me for the past few days (and not just because I was debating what to write about it).
The music may not have been the most appealing or memorable, but I've found while reading my classmates posts that there are definitely certain phrases that have stuck with me (more than I thought, even). If you think about it though, there aren't all that many operas for which you could say differently (especially in this time period). I mean, mostly what we are left with after seeing a work for the first time are just fragments that keep circulating in our heads. Perhaps with multiple viewings, more of Floyd's score would begin to stand out for us. Then again, perhaps not. It did seem to me that the drama was the driving force in this piece.
On another note, Sadie’s line, “Shake ‘em up…Even if you make ‘em mad, they’ll love you,” seemed to me to encapsulate a major theme of our previous class discussions. All of the operas we have covered thus far have had definite statements to make, whether it be political (Candide, Satyagraha) or aesthetic (Willie Stark, I would argue). It seems to me that in this day and age, the goal in writing an opera is no longer to make the most beautiful music ever written, but to make a work that transports, that entertains, that affects, and that is maybe just a little bit controversial. Even if we, as a class, didn’t really like this opera, it certainly generated a large amount of discussion. Perhaps, in the end, that was the point.
Musings on "Wille Stark"
In Olivia’s post, Staging ‘Stark’, she said: “Political stories, especially Presidential themes, always gather attention. So why not capitalize on that?”
That got me thinking. What is it about political figures that make them larger than life? Is the position of power? Is it the particular brand of charm that seems to be part of the job description? Suddenly it occurred to me: they are public figures! Meaning, unlike most men, they are responsible to the public and because of that, they are very visible in society. Oh yeah, and that position of power has a tendency to get them into trouble (I’m being very general here). How do we find these things out? Well, for starters, the media has an obsession with trouble…
That got me thinking about all of the possible ways one could stage Carlisle Floyd’s opera “Willie Stark” in order to strengthen the work. What I didn’t like about LSU’s production (granted, I’m sure their budget was not huge) was the fact that the set and costumes didn’t help my understanding of the work as a whole. I think the aesthetics of a production should highlight some theme of the work, or heighten the drama, or simply transport the audience into the story more completely. In that vein, I would like to see a production of “Willie Stark” that really hyped up the media aspect of the political life. The media informs so much of what we, the public, see of politicians. Being public figures, the line between their private and public lives seems to get blurred. I think bringing that dichotomy to light would tighten up the action 'Willie Stark'. For example, how much more touching and honest would Stark’s speech about homesickness seem if it was contrasted with the glitz and show of his public life in office?
Floyd already insinuates the media into the work with his inclusion of the ‘radio broadcasts’ strewn throughout the opera, but I think following his lead and capitalizing on that theme would allow the audience to connect to the heightened nature of the story. Especially since, as Christina pointed out, we are set down right in the middle of the protagonist’s rise and fall, as it were.
What if the production used newspaper in a way that was similar to the Metropolitan Opera’s version of Satyagraha, so that it was integral to the design? What if the floor of the stage was made up of newspaper clippings and media (newspaper, radio, TV and film) functioned prominently in the staging? What if the voyeuristic aspect of the work was heightened by haveing members of the chorus always present around the stage in some way, watching the proceedings, either as townspeople or press workers? What if one incorporated projections at the political rally scenes?
Many of my classmates brought up the difference between the effects of watching an opera on stage versus watching it on film. I too find it interesting that the reviewer who watched the filmed version praised the piece that the other saw in the theater and disparaged. I think the story is worthwhile, it just needs some help in the form of a production that focuses the audience’s attention more tightly (the way a camera does). On that note, I really like what Shelley pointed out about the disappearing doors in her post, Cliché that Ish Up! It made me wonder if one could heighten the tension in the work by making the audience’s focus effectively get narrower and narrower as the work went on (either through literally making the space in which scenes occur smaller or by the use of lighting or other effects) so that, by the end, one has no choice but to be involved in what is happening to Willie Stark.
That got me thinking. What is it about political figures that make them larger than life? Is the position of power? Is it the particular brand of charm that seems to be part of the job description? Suddenly it occurred to me: they are public figures! Meaning, unlike most men, they are responsible to the public and because of that, they are very visible in society. Oh yeah, and that position of power has a tendency to get them into trouble (I’m being very general here). How do we find these things out? Well, for starters, the media has an obsession with trouble…
That got me thinking about all of the possible ways one could stage Carlisle Floyd’s opera “Willie Stark” in order to strengthen the work. What I didn’t like about LSU’s production (granted, I’m sure their budget was not huge) was the fact that the set and costumes didn’t help my understanding of the work as a whole. I think the aesthetics of a production should highlight some theme of the work, or heighten the drama, or simply transport the audience into the story more completely. In that vein, I would like to see a production of “Willie Stark” that really hyped up the media aspect of the political life. The media informs so much of what we, the public, see of politicians. Being public figures, the line between their private and public lives seems to get blurred. I think bringing that dichotomy to light would tighten up the action 'Willie Stark'. For example, how much more touching and honest would Stark’s speech about homesickness seem if it was contrasted with the glitz and show of his public life in office?
Floyd already insinuates the media into the work with his inclusion of the ‘radio broadcasts’ strewn throughout the opera, but I think following his lead and capitalizing on that theme would allow the audience to connect to the heightened nature of the story. Especially since, as Christina pointed out, we are set down right in the middle of the protagonist’s rise and fall, as it were.
What if the production used newspaper in a way that was similar to the Metropolitan Opera’s version of Satyagraha, so that it was integral to the design? What if the floor of the stage was made up of newspaper clippings and media (newspaper, radio, TV and film) functioned prominently in the staging? What if the voyeuristic aspect of the work was heightened by haveing members of the chorus always present around the stage in some way, watching the proceedings, either as townspeople or press workers? What if one incorporated projections at the political rally scenes?
Many of my classmates brought up the difference between the effects of watching an opera on stage versus watching it on film. I too find it interesting that the reviewer who watched the filmed version praised the piece that the other saw in the theater and disparaged. I think the story is worthwhile, it just needs some help in the form of a production that focuses the audience’s attention more tightly (the way a camera does). On that note, I really like what Shelley pointed out about the disappearing doors in her post, Cliché that Ish Up! It made me wonder if one could heighten the tension in the work by making the audience’s focus effectively get narrower and narrower as the work went on (either through literally making the space in which scenes occur smaller or by the use of lighting or other effects) so that, by the end, one has no choice but to be involved in what is happening to Willie Stark.
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