Campbell Vertesi

I had a very interesting discussion with one of the coaches here recently.  I have always been of the opinion that acting in opera can be - indeed, should be - every bit as nuanced as stage acting.  That is to say, your characters should have all the depth and complexity of a real human being.  I have always placed a special emphasis on subtext in my arias, so that they can be more than just "he's sad".  But this particular coach disagreed.

The argument is that we have many more constraints in opera, which prevent us from taking too much freedom with our characters.  In the first place, the audience generally doesn't speak the language we're singing, so nuance in the text does not get conveyed.  There are also the musical constraints of timing, pitch and duration. Stage actors get more tools than operatic singers do, so they can expect their audiences to pick up on character subtleties and thought much better.

One example is the idea of Carmen, who seems to have no fear whatsoever, laughing in the face of predestined death with her last lines to Don Jose.  I think that something like that would make the scene much more intense, highlighting her acceptance of fate in a scary sort of way.  A character who laughs as she goes to her death would have me on the edge of my seat... if nothing else in fascination at this twisted person.  But according to this argument, opera audiences couldn't get anything that deep.  They'd just wonder why she was laughing, and lose their connection to the opera.

The example that brought the whole discussion up was Colline's "coat" aria from La Boheme.  I see Colline as a guy who uses humor and pseudo-intellectualism as a defense mechanism.  When Mimi enters, he goes from this chatty jokester to dead silent for about 15 minutes, watching everything take place.  When he finally does say something, I don't think he's aware of any of the symbolism of the coat or any of that crap.  I think he's just grasping at straws to try and cope with the reality of the imminent death of a dear friend.  Humor is his defense - he is trying to make a joke at a funeral, because he just doesn't get what to do.  

The piece comes to a climax with this stupid line about the books in his pockets, not because the pockets are of any importance,  but because Colline is struggling to keep this defense up against the weight of the situation.  He gets poco rall and rallentando during that line, until he reaches the words "filosofi e poeti" (philosophers and poets), ostensibly describing the works in the pockets of the coat.  In my interpretation, this is where he finally gets it, and realizes that what he's really doing is singing a funeral for his friend.  After all, he is a philosopher, and Rodolfo the mourning lover is a poet.  The only things Colline can manage to say after that moment are broken "addio"s, in ever descending lines.

I think that this aria is Colline's defense falling apart, as he is forced to come to terms with the reality of Mimi's death.  The text is so straightforward, but it is the subtext that makes the aria so poignant.

Apparently opera audiences can't be expected to pick up on anything so complex as a human being struggling to keep it together, and then falling apart emotionally under the weight of the situation.  I'd like to hear your thoughts...

I had a very interesting discussion with a director friend recently, about the future of opera.  His position was that contemporary opera will never catch on with a younger crowd until it accesses contemporary styles and genres.  "The pacing, rhythm and feel of a rock concert or a movie, in an opera" was (more or less) the way he put it.

Not a bad idea, says I.  A rock concert is hard to connect to a musical event with plot, but I think that many of the attitudes we bring make that connection possible.  After all, bel canto operas are all about showing off the prowess of the singer, with entirely free form cadenze throughout.  How different is this from a guitar solo?  I can't imagine an adrenaline pumping opera the way a rock concert is adrenaline pumping, but i do see the direction my friend is pointing.

More interesting to me, is the idea (brought up by the same friend) that opera should borrow more from contemporary culture.  Operas can be funny, but the humor tends to target audiences from 1900.  Where is the comic opera of Naked Gun style comedy?  I can hear the aria already, for the "I love it!" scene.  What about in other genres: romantic comedy, drama, suspense? Why is no one composing operas in these idioms?

Some images that flit through my mind at this thought: the coloratura aria from the famous When Harry Met Sally "diner scene".  Philadelphia, the opera (writes itself).  Seven. 

If I were more of a composer, I'd set to work on one of these.  If i were more of a writer, I'd at least write a libretto.  But I'm only a blogger, so all I can do is implore the real composers and writers out there.  Give it a shot.  And make sure to include a good bass role. 

And this is a post about sex.

DISCLAIMER - This is a post about sex. Only read it if your parents say it's okay. So before you read any further, ask your parents! This goes double for anyone over the age of 20. Call your parents and ask if you're allowed to read something dirty about singing. I'll wait. No, seriously - go make that call. If you're under 13, skip on to the next post. This is a grown ups only blog entry.

This is one of those posts where I have to make every story anonymous, but it will be worth it.

In a recent discussion with a colleague of mine, it came up that every singer has a story about... mixing business with pleasure. At some point in a life devoted to classical music, one finds that one sensualist pastime is actually quite close to another... and it all goes downhill from there. It occorred to me that since most of us have these stories, someone should try and collate them. If nothing else, it makes for great copy.

I've known a singer who had a hell of a time relaxing for his high notes. At his teacher's suggestion, this young man asked his girlfriend to help him "rehearse" - if you get my drift. The assignment was, at the moment of greatest relaxation, to sing a high note, rather than lighting the more traditional cigarette.

Another singer friend was using a newly purchased, "great hits of the opera" CD as romantic background music with a man she had been seeing for all of two weeks - until Wagner's "Wedding March" from Lohengrin came on. Awkward silence and a sudden lunge for the CD player ensued.

One of the coolest sopranos I know swears that she learned her high notes in bed. Yes, apparently her husband is that good. Another singer friend, a mezzo, still uses the sense memory of a great orgasm to get ring in her voice. I can certainly think of at least one great bass, who was rumored to have encounters with chorus girls in the wings before he would go on to sing!

It works both ways, though. Stories abound about a certain great tenor (OK, why hide it - it's generally rumored to be Franco Corelli), who would refuse to make love to his wife for three days before a performance. This is actually a common restriction - many singers feel that it ruins their energy or voice for the big night. According to rumor, Mrs. Corelli went to (then Met General Manager) Rudolph Bing, and pleaded her case: "please give Franco some time off! You are ruining my sex life!"

Do any of you have good stories of mixing business with pleasure? Comments are anonymous for a reason... :)

Today your intrepid blogger received a friend request from one of his favorite blogosphere-colleagues: the almost-famous ACB (of the concert fame).

Once I got over my stardom jitters, and accepted the request, I did the traditional social-network-stalker dance, and perused through ACB's posted pictures... only to find them chockerblock full of mutual friends!  Well, hardly chockerblock - that's a lot of block - but a surprising amount of connection nonetheless.  It took me a full second or so to realize that my shock was totally unwarranted.

I work in a very small industry.  Everyone knows everyone else here - and the higher you get up that young artist/career ladder, the smaller the group gets.  Is it any surprise that some of the good singers I know end up in the same places, working for the same companies?  I uncover this kind of connection with my colleagues every day.  Still, it never ceases to amaze.  

Small world! 

It occurred to me the other day that the nature of performance art has changed drastically in the last century.  In 1887, if you saw a performance of Otello, it was a unique experience, never to be duplicated.  You wouldn't get to hear the same music again for years, unless you bought another ticket for the next night.  Even then, the performance would be slightly different.  On a larger scale: as an individual artist, your creations died with you.  Farinelli was an incredible singer, but only his contemporaries got to appreciate it.

Compare this with the other, documentary arts like writing, composition, painting or sculpture.  By their very nature, the creations of these arts are appreciated and studied long after the act of creation.  Da Vinci's creations have been appreciated by generations since his death - and some of his drawings (his flying machines for example) could only be appreciated as genius in this century.  Artists who were unknown in their own time became great masters post-mortem.  Such is the nature of these arts - and until recently, this was their exclusive province over performance artists.

In the 20th Century, we've started recording performances.  At first, it was only the best of the best that were recorded.  Still, great singers and actors from Caruso to Alastair Sim could join the ranks of documentary artists, having their creations experienced and appreciated long after the act of creation.  After Caruso's death, we have all enjoyed his art - something never possible before.  I have learned quite a bit about acting from the performances of Mr. Sim, who died before I was born.  

Now, in the digital age, and especially in the age of user-created content, we have entered another phase of documentary performance art.  Now, most performers have some document of their art, rather than just those who were appreciated during their lifetime.  I guarantee that just as in composition, painting and sculpture, some artists will only be discovered as great after their deaths.   Already, there are singers who were never appreciated fully during their careers, who are gaining new stature thanks to the documents of their art.

The name Joseph Shore is known by many young singers, thanks to his fantastic collection of mp3 recordings - documents of his art - available for free online.  Though he was hailed as a great singer by everyone who heard him, he cut his own career short to take up teaching.  Now, the documentary nature of opera performance (and the medium of transmission that is the internet) has spread the word of his fantastic singing, 20 years after the fact.  This would have been impossible even 50 years ago, but it is the new reality in our field.

For all you young singers out there - bear in mind that when you create a character, your decisions may be as final as Picasso's paint on canvas.  Your art may be heard, admired and criticized for generations to come - and possibly not until then.  So create accordingly, and feel fortunate.  You are one of the first generations to create documentary performance art! 

This means a new freedom - a new ability to create for the sake of creating, whether contemporary audiences understand or not.  For the first time, performance art has a chance to take the test of historical hindsight.  Perhaps some future generation will see great art where today's critics did not.

Today was going to be a big day for me.  Today, I was going to crash my first audition.

 Tanglewood was one of the summer opportunities whose application due date flew by me this year.  It's a very prestigious program, and by all accounts a very good one, too (those two do not always correlate).  But the application required a recording, and at that point I hadn't finished mine. 

Their audition is at CCM today, and I thought "what the hell?  Let's try crashing!"  I'm gonna be here all day anyways, right?  So I got all dressed in my suit, warmed my voice up just right, and went to a computer lab to print off my materials.

The usual process for crashing an audition is to arrive with a filled-out application in hand, along with all your usual promo items (resume, headshot, audition rep list).  You sit outside THE CHAMBER and wait for someone to no-show.  Then you take their time slot, and sing the shit out of it.

In looking at the Tanglewood application however, I realized that this was not an audition I would be doing today.  They want every singer to bring a complete repertoire list to their audition, with a special emphasis on song.  Asterisks for the pieces you've performed.  You must also bring a letter of reference from a non-teacher.   And then your usual materials on top of that.

And you know, that's just not going to happen.  I don't want to begin to think about the songs I've learned - I've given annual concerts since 2002, remember - and honestly, if the program has that much emphasis on art song... it probably isn't for me.  There really isn't a very large repertoire of art songs written for specialty voice types like a low bass.  What's more - and here I brace myself for the onslaught of rebukes - I just don't like art song that much. 

Art song always feels somehow unsatisfying to me. To have a piece of music void of a larger dramatic movement just doesn't thrill me the same way.  The scale of that kind of singing is also no fun for me, especially the way they are sung nowadays.  One is expected to scale down one's voice, to perform dynamics that would never carry across a proscenium, and to cherish each little note with a caressing touch.  It's not that any of this is impossible for me (though the ranges tend to be challenging, certainly)... it really is that it's fundamentally unsatisfying to whatever it is that moves me to love my music.

I like a plot and theme that moves explicitly in the music.  I like singing about concrete things.  I like singing when the stakes are high for a character, and the music is moving the drama somewhere.  With individual exceptions, art song generally doesn't do these things.

 I should mention that there are definite exceptions.  One is permitted operatic-scale dynamics on certain individual songs, or in particular cycles.  I get a reasonable facsimile of the drama I enjoy when a piece of music intersects with my own life.  For example, Poulenc's "Ponts de Cé" is a piece with great personal meaning to me, and I love singing it.  Or more obviously, individual pieces of great Romantic cycles that have a connection to my personal love life.  (can we say "Ich Grolle Nicht"?)  But these exceptions form only a small handful of the larger song repertory.  

I sing arias and oratorio whenever I can.  I sing art song whenever I have to. I feel like a bad musician saying this, but the truth is that art song just isn't to my taste.

OK, now go ahead and torch me.

Wellsung has a great post up today about an "only weird for opera people" moment.  The setting is a community choir Halloween concert, with a theme of "dangerous women."  They sang lots of stuff, including the lascivious "Dance of the Seven Veils" from Salome. Nice, right?  Until they had the local dance troupe come out to perform that number - who were all actual 15 year old girls.  Can we say "awkward"? 

I can think of lots of great stories like that, where a piece of opera was taken completely out of context in a way that is just plain wrong if you know the meaning of the words or the plot.  Not wrong like a test answer is wrong, but Wrong like a 10 year old at a striptease class is wrong.  Or Wrong like the wild success of the Jackass movies is wrong.

A tenor friend of mine was asked to sing at a funeral - they had him sing Nessun Dorma ("no one sleeps", the aria of a man facing his death in the morning).  I can't count how many times I've heard of O mio babbino caro being used at weddings (the aria of a girl twisting her father around her finger to let her marry her boyfriend, of whom the father disapproves) .  I mean, we can all aknowledge that this is beautiful music, but couldn't you pick something else?  How about the Liebestode?  That would be a fine fit for a wedding...

 Anyone else have good stories about inappropriate uses of arias?

Rob Kasper just made it into my good books.

The article begins:

Whether I watch in person or I'm sitting on the sofa, I am a fan of professional football and opera. This weekend I plan to enjoy a good dose of both. The Ravens are off, but the Cincinnati-Carolina and Washington-Indianapolis football games on TV could be worth watching. Meanwhile at the Lyric, home of the Baltimore Opera Company, I will be on hand as the Greeks take on the Turks in a performance of The Siege of Corinth. The early line favors the Turks.

I like this take on opera.  For the record, I don't get the interest in football.  Sorry, Rob.  Now hockey - there's a sport I can watch!

Here it is! The post I've been waiting to - um, post!!  May I present the Lucrezia Project!

Next month, CCM is producing The Lucrezia Project - a sort of modified version of Respighi's opera Lucrezia.  I know next to nothing about the way the show itself is being modified- my involvement is with a novel way to approach thematic development in an opera. And this is an opera about Honor Killing.  Go on, read the wikipedia link.  It will help make this whole thing make sense.

 You see traditionally, the director does days of painstaking research in developing a serious, deep theme for their presentation of an opera.  They analyze characters, they break down scenes into their subtle implications - in short, they wrack their brains over this stuff.  Then they try to impart this theme to their acting singers, who skimp on the studying, and try to fake their way through a character that somehow (hopefully) supports the director's concept.  Finally, the audience arrives, and is perplexed at what the hell is going on in the first place, and why on earth did they use such odd lighting??  Theatre sure is funny!

This is the natural life cycle for an opera with a concept.  But perhaps not The Lucrezia Project.  The idea behind this production is to let the audience in on the development and thematic issues right from the start, using the internet.  I built a website that incorporates directors' blogs with discussion forums, and areas for the public to watch the performers grow their characters.  On this site, people can discuss the moral implications of Honor Killing - especially in the context of the modern world, as Eastern and Western civilization collide and intermingle.  How do you take the right to dictate another culture's morality?  Is the growing monoculture of our increasingly globalized world a Good thing?  What can or should be done for girls who seek asylum from their own families? (see, I told you to read the Wikipedia link.  Now go back and do it)

All of this will go on in a public forum - along with cast comments, directors' notes, and the whole playbuilding process around this incredibly contentious issue (dammit! Read the friggin' Wikipedia link already!).  The whole project culminates in a podcast/videocast of the production, and a series of interviews with the artists about their experience in the project.  Of ccourse the show is open to the public as well, and UC students get in free.

Can you say "badass"?  Can you say "New Media"?  Finally, you can have an audience that really understands the directoral vision.  Finally, a crowd that knows your character as well as you do!  At last, the audience will know more and have thought more about the theme than they did in the 5 minutes between reading the program notes and the curtain call.  This has the potential to take the thinking in theatre into a virtual discussion - and vice versa.

The down side - this project is limited to participation from UC students only.  Outsiders (we call you guys "normies") can spectate, but not post.  Feel free to write on your own blogs I guess, and submit the link on the contact page.  Your thoughts will likely be included in the discussion. At least post a link in MY comments.

Oh, and the shameless plug - I designed the site!  This is the exciting project I've been doing at work for the last month, and it's finally in production.  My supervisor Ellen Davis and I have worked on the Lucrezia Project tirelessly for weeks, and we really hope this participatory theatre concept takes off.  I did the visual design though. :)

So head on over and take a look!  I don't know if the forums or all of the content is up quite yet, but I'm not waiting any longer.  This time tomorrow I'll be posting from California, and I should have all sorts of other, interesting stuff to write about!

Woohoo! The blog finally proves its worth:

Last week I was contacted by a young director/singer, working for a company in Northern California (Opera Fresca).  He was looking for a Sparafucile for a concert Rigoletto they're doing in October.  Thanks to the website he was able to look me up and listen, and poof! - there was an offer for one of my dream roles!

 I would have posted it here immediately, if I'd been able to answer him that fast.  Thing is, Sparafucile is not an easy role for a young, heavy bass.  I had to be sure, and my teacher gave me a week to work on it, at which point we would decide whether I should sing this or not.  Most of the singing is just fine, but there's one page of sheer masochism in the storm trio.  (my GOD that moves fast!)  Once you get your mouth around the rapid-fire verbiage, you have to move your voice around the difficult vocal part.  A page long run of eighth notes without pause, ascending first to a D, then an E, and then (ulp) an F#!  I called my old teacher Mr. Tozzi for advice on the part, and I worked my butt off to make it singable.  In some ways, that section targets precisely my biggest demons - staying open, relaxed and free on runs, and extreme high notes.

The good news is, after a lot of work, I can do it.  I'm excited to build the role with my teacher, and even more excited to sing it in a month!  It really is one of my dream parts, and I'm totally thrilled for the opportunity to get to sing it. I made sure that my contract includes a provision to allow me to post excerpts - so you'll be the first to hear!

(no, really - you think I have a better way to send recordings to my parents and Bryn than this website?  You'll be the first)