Campbell Vertesi

It was mentioned on a recent popular post that part of the problem with English Operas tend to be the libretti... poor poetry that hacks the plot to pieces. As my favorite Ariadne pointed out:

The original story of Don Juan/Giovanni was written by Byron. The original Marriage of Figaro was written by Beaumarchais. What if Stephen King wrote an opera libretto or an opera was based on one of his books? Tom Clancy? Patricia Cornwell? Maya Angelou? Jane Austen? Someone who wrote or writes in (American or British) English who's worth reading might actually have a chance of being worth singing, right?

Honestly, I have no interest in a Tom Clancy opera (what would a secret team of counter-terrorist Navy officers sing about? I don't know either, but it would make a hell of an ensemble, with team members getting shot periodically). A Stephen King horror opera might be interesting; sort of a Freischutz (the original macabre horror story opera) for the modern age. Again, what does one sing while one is being hacked to pieces by an insane clown?

But I would pay serious bucks for a opera with a libretto by Maya Angelou.

On the other hand, Patrick counters:

I've actually sometimes wondered if the rarity of opera in English has actually led to a higher calibre of writer being involved just because it seems like a novelty or fairly prestigious even though the libretto is secondary to the music -- I'm thinking of E M Forster with Billy Budd, Gertrude Stein with 4 Saints and The Mother of Us All, W H Auden with his work for Henze, Stravinsky, and Britten, and Toni Morrison with Margaret Garner. I think one problem has been that for much of the second half of the 20th century until recently the natural sources of opera plots -- plays, novels, and movies -- have been in a sort of mundane "realistic" style that isn't really suited to opera's mythic and poetic style.

Oooh! Good point. Of course, it helps that we're selecting operas/librettists with the eye of history on our side. In all fairness, we did that with Beaumarchais too. We mention the great writing that went into the greatest works in the operatic canon, but we ignore Trois Nonnes et un écureuil au marchet, the little known flop by little known 18th century French composer Francois LeFleur. Equally, we mention Billy Bud, but not the crap that was written at the same time, and is now largely forgotten.

I think that in 50 years, we will talk about the great writing that went into Margaret Garner, and forget all about the lesser works of today, no matter how loudly their premieres are trumpeted. I haven't seen Dr. Atomic, but if it isn't a great work on the scale of Billy Budd, why are we measuring the librettists against each other? Atomic will fall by the wayside, no harm done.

Do not be misled by the furor over an opera in the popular press. Remember that out of 152 winners of the Grand Prix de Rome, if you can recognize more than 15 composers' names, you deserve an honorary musicology degree. (check out that Wikipedia link for a complete list. If you recognize more than 15 composers, post back here for a prize and some condescension for being such a music nerd) So just because Dr. Atomic and the upcoming First Emperor have been all over the classical music scene doesn't mean they'll stand the test of time.

But I agree that we might have a better shot at more quality American opera if the Maya Angelous of the world could be convinced to write for them. I also think that really directly approaching modern issues like Margaret Garner does is a Good Thing.

As regular readers (a fine, well read, muscular and good looking group) know, I didn't get to see the first video broadcast from the Met.  Die Zauberflöte, shortened, in English, and kid-friendly.  Zauberflöte (or as the met broadcast announcers say it, Zauberflrte) is one of my favorite operas, and it took me considerable thought to decide whether I liked the idea.

I got to hear a broadcast of this version (on my new Sirius radio!) yesterday, and I loved it.  I loved it so much, that I'm going to open a can of worms and say that I think we should do more opera in English translation.  Excuse me while I duck for cover.

 ...

The trouble with opera in the original language in America is, no one speaks the language.  Supertitles distract from the dramatic action and pull the audience out of the moment - not to mention that in comedy, the laughs come at all the wrong times.  If the audience ignores the supertitles, they are left listening to pretty gibberish.  An English translation allows performers to engage the audience, and keep them connected to the drama throughout the piece.

Unfortunately, the good name of English Translations is too often soiled by poor translations.  I hate to say it, but most of the Schirmer translations are just terrible.  Ruth and Thomas Martin translated their operas decades ago, and the syntax that was awkward then is even worse today.  In the old days (cue sepia video), theatres commissioned their own translations - some were good and some were bad.  Now we use the conseritavissimo, older-than-the-sun translations almost exclusively, and shock of shocks! Translated music sucks!  So now we go to the original language, and try to use the technology of supertitles (or seatback-titles) to make up for it.  Why is anyone surprised that this experience has a hard time provoking visceral emotional reactions from most audience members through anything but the raw power of the music?  The drama is never compelling anymore in opera, and I think that English translations would help a great deal.

 This recent Met Zauberflöte is the first example I've heard of an in-house translation, and it was wonderful.  Papageno was genuinely funny, and the Queen of the Night actually frightening!  Even Monostatos got laughs for his spoken comedy, not just his slapsticking!  This is unheard of in the the 'Flute.

I should mention: I would prefer to watch much of my opera in the original language.  But then, I speak Italian and French fluently.  99% of the audience is not in that position.

Quite apart from the audience's enjoyment, the other great benefit we'd reap from more emphasis on translated repertoire is a competitive advantage for works written in English.  The truth is, a translation can never be as good as the original.  So what do we see in countries that do a lot of translating?  In Germany, there is a distinct emphasis on opera written in German.  In Italy, they surprise by doing more works written in Italian.  "but they have a canon of works!" I hear you cry.  So do we.

English opera has been written for long enough now that we can start relying on our own language much more.  Gilbert and Sullivan aside (though I would love to see more of that), where is all the Britten?  The Barber, the Moore, the Menotti, the Strauss for crying out loud!  There is plenty of great English opera out there that gets ignored, or under-played.  Billy Budd and Peter Grimes are extraordinary pieces, but so is Gloriana.  The Devil and Daniel Webster and the Old Maid and the Thief seem to have disappeared completely... and who has actually seen the Tender Land or the Crucible?  I could go on for ages.  Apparently the Ballad of Baby Doe is still the second most performed English opera in the country, and when was the last time your local house played that?

If watching opera in English means more of this sort of repertoire, I'm all for it.  If it means a deeper understanding and connection to the foreign operatic canon for monolingual audiences, I'm all for it.  If all that comes at the price of the occasional crappy translation, I'll consider it a good deal.

PS: if you're interested in more American opera, check out usopera.com - a wonderful resource.  Write your local opera company and ask for some of these works by name.

 PPS - the most performed English Opera (if you were wondering) is Amahl and the Night Visitors, by Menotti.  It gets the added boost of being a Christmas opera, so there are thousands of churches that put it on every year.

If you haven't heard this story yet, I'm proud to be the first to welcome you out from your cave: Roberto Alagna walked out partway through a performance of Aida at La Scala, after being booed for his first aria. There are many angles to cover here.

For non-opera nuts, an Opera-L poster gives a firsthand account (note: Ital-English off the port bow!) of the performance and booing... which gives you some insight into the way singers are judged. Wonder how we can spend days in practice rooms, obsessing over the tinyest detail of a role like Radames? Great art demands it, and informed audiences listen for it. Highlights from the post:

His voice is simply too light for the part and high notes not perfectly focuses. At the opening night he sung a correct Radames but with many "but".... in the theatre [the voice] was more little, with a white color in the high register, no squillo and voice "going back" after the passaggio in the acutes... He painted a new reading of Radames as a protoromantic heroe more close to Donizzetti than Verdi.

But this new reading sounded to many as a "trick" to cover the difficulty of the voice. If the chorus and orchestra sounded to the normal volume you would have missed half of Radames singing.

Find me a review of any rock or pop band that expects so much of the listener! Audience members at the opera know what good singing sounds like (fingers crossed), to the point where a complaint that there was too much "whiteness" in a tenor's sound was enough to get boos. This gives some idea of the complexity and expectations of our art form.

Now, you have to understand that Italian audiences tend to be harsher than we have in the 'states. Recent booing at the Met notwithstanding, Scala audiences have also historically booed singers like Pavarotti, Corelli and Callas, so boos do not necessarily make a poor singer. In fact, the author of that firsthand account seems to think that the boos started as a response to an unearned "bravo". What a business!

This is worth mentioning also from the perspective of stage etiquette. Walking offstage mid-performance is not acceptable. Ever. Period. I don't care what boos and catcalls you get. You may leave if the management pulls you off, if you have an urgent medical condition, or if someone shoots at you from the audience. There is no other reason.

Now here's my favorite angle: this may be the best thing that's happened to La Scala in years. Some time ago, An Unamplified Voice posted a commentary on the crisis in Italian opera. According to the Independant:

This highlights an even more fundamental problem - that the Italian public appears to have fallen out of love with "la lirica" (the opera). A generation ago, the goings-on at La Scala were of intense interest to everyone in Milan. Any Italian taxi driver could hum the most famous arias, and Maria Callas and Giuseppe di Stefano were the celebrities of their day.

But today, thanks to pop music and the Berlusconi-peddled TV diet of soaps, quiz shows and old American movies, Verdi and Puccini have gone out of style. The opera has become the diversion of the rich, the old and the corporate as much as anywhere else - perhaps even more so, given the failure of Italian opera houses to make a pitch for the patronage of their country's youth.

Really! Youth have fallen out of love with opera, and we're surprised? Coincident with the fall of "star syndrome" and the "diva personality" in opera, we suddenly lose the young audience, because their celebrities come from another medium. Coincidence?

Today, La Scala, Aida, Zeffirelli and Alagna were all over the news. This story was carried with full drama by Reuters, the BBC, the Telegraph, the New York Times, the Globe and Mail, the Guardian, the Times, Forbes... the list goes on. Today, everyone who's anybody knows who Roberto Alagna is... and if the show hadn't already sold out before opening night, you can bet your ass it would be sold out now.

Let's face it: diva antics sell tickets, without sacrificing art (unlike many other butts-in-seats suggestions). The Callas-Tibaldi feud, endless stories about Corelli throwing up from nerves before a performance, famous basses literally holding conductors over the pit to make them change musical direction... these things did not harm the art of the music and singing - indeed, they happened during the great "golden age" of opera! - but they sure got audiences interested. Alagna will find his next production very well attended, as will La Scala. Perhaps what the opera industry needs is a few more singers walking out, to compete with Lindsey Lohan's AA meetings and Brad Pitt's breakups.

I sat through an hour of commercials for that?

Initial thoughts
–    why did they choose such an odd excerpt? Why on earth would you pick a portion of the opera that is totally unknown, that doesn’t show off any of the singers you have up there?
–    Who was in charge of sound for the show?  Despite being miked (hopefully for recording or tv broadcast purposes), the singers were completely unintelligible, and often could barely be heard over the orchestra.
–    Why did they bother with costumes?   If they were going to just stand and sing with mics, tuxes or suits would have made more sense.

I couldn’t help myself from going through 10 better ways to advertise opera on Letterman.  It was a good idea Gelb, but the execution was unacceptably poor.  You could have had an interview with one of the singers (or the director, or Gelb himself).  You could have had segments of famous arias (“Figaro” and “una voce poco fa” stand out from Barber of Seville), or scenes.  You had Juan Diego f$cking Florez, Samuel Ramey, and half of the Metropolitan Orchestra onstage in front of a live TV audience of millions. Who came up with the brilliant idea of burying them in a generic Rossini “imbroglio” scene, so we couldn’t hear them?  Who thought it was a good idea to make opera out to be a bunch of guys in old costumes standing and singing nosense?

To draw a simile from one of the other guests on the show tonight, what the Met did on Letterman was like having Jaime Oliver there to cook toast with jam.  It was a waste of the incredible talent they had assembled, the huge amount of money that I’m sure went into the project, the time of the audience and of a good opportunity for opera.

I hope the Met gets another chance to put opera in front of a mainstream audience like this. But after watching Letterman tonight; I wouldn’t invite them back.

Gelb is very quickly earning my respect as head of the Met... and it looks like he's done it again!  Opera will return to non-PBS broadcasting tonight with the Letterman Show - featuring act I of their upcoming Barber production.  Juan Diego Florez will be singing, which should be great.  Couldn't have picked a better singer for such a populist appearance, and he'll get lots of show-off time!  

I'm pretty stoked about it.  I don't think Bryn and my TV is plugged in yet, but I'll be taking care of that ASAP.  This I have to see. 

Here’s some more great news in the musical geekery world!  Has anyone else heard about San Francisco Symphony’s new Keeping Score program?  This is great stuff. As the SF Chronicle puts it:

“[Keeping Score] is an undertaking that will allow music lovers to crawl inside the heads of the composers; ...peer at the score while a pointer marks the place being played; become historically immersed in the time and place in which the music was introduced; ...and at the same time listen, listen, listen.”
—San Francisco Chronicle

A few weeks before every concert, they start playing the pieces on the radio . Local classical stations I guess, NPR… that sort of play.  Each time, there are discussions about different aspects of the pieces, interviews between Music Director Michael Tilson-Thomas and instrumentalists he knows.  Then they do a video broadcast on PBS – documentaries, biographies of composers (check local listings).  Finally (and this is my favorite bit), they set up a website for the pieces.  Not a mom and pop website like you’re used to, either.  This is a high-quality, information packed flash dealie.  A veritable cornucopia of music geekery.

Listen to the piece while reading about the programmatic aspects.  Watch the score scroll by as you watch a video of the orchestra playing it, each measure highlighted as you go.   Interesting information is represented as colored blocks in the score.  Click on one to see an interview with a particular player (“interview with trombonist John Doe on the role of the horns in this piece”), a discussion on the music theory behind the passage, perhaps a historical tidbit, or a ‘parody’ explanation (parody is music history speak for “plagiarized”).  Musical notation can be moused-over, to see an explanation of “pp” or “adagio”. There are mini-interviews with music director Michael Tilson-Thomas.  There is so much information to geek out on, it’s unreal.  The first time I saw this site, I think I wet my pants.

Go on.  Check it out.  Their pilot project is Tchaikovski’s 4th symphony. Enjoy!  Now this is the kind of thing I like to see - getting audiences more involved in the stuff that give classical music such depth!