If there is one quote from Weep, Shudder, Die: A Guide to Loving Opera that sums up Robert Levine’s case for opera as popular entertainment it’s this:
Opera is all around us — hundreds of hours’ worth on YouTube alone — and there is no excuse not to take part in it. Much like the dozen or so theaters in eighteenth-centure Venice (and then all over Europe), opera has again become familiar, popular entertainment, and it has unleashed its weird power. It still requires some commitment to knowledge and it rarely has a beat, but there’s just so much of Lady Gaga a human being can enjoy/tolerate without needing to be touched in a slightly deeper place.
The aim of this book is to get people to try opera by pointing out how available it is today (with the Met’s HD broadcasts, Opera in Cinema, DVD/Blu-Rays in the hundreds) and by demonstrating opera’s similarities as well as differences to more widely accessible genres. This comes with a little mythbusting in the bit where he anticipates and shoots down some common “Philistine” objections like the unnatural sound produced by operatic technique. Nobody objects to Gospel singers taking their voices as high as they’ll go because we recognize religious ecstasy as a justification for all that intensity. Stipulate that opera functions on a similar level of heightened discourse and its “inauthenticity” stops being a distraction. It becomes the entire point. Levine wants people to fall in love with the trained, unamplified human voice.
Another goal is to make it easier to get into opera. In chapters devoted to the top national traditions in opera, Levine covers the greatest hits with brief composer bios and historical/stylistic background, then homes in on selected facts the newbie might find most helpful and entertaining. The tone is quite chatty and there’s a liberal helping backstage gossip. Excellent beach reading.
Captured in seven different countries, "DUDAMEL: Let the Children Play" is a glimpse into the world of orchestras, conducting, and the importance of music as a hopeful path to face the educational crisis worldwide. Gustavo Dudamel, the amazingly gifted LA Philharmonic conductor inspired by the Venezuelan musical and educational program "El Sistema," which immerses children in the world of music, art, teamwork, discipline, creativity, and high values, leads this journey through the stories of some of the young people who are experiencing the joy of music in the most diverse and contrasting corners of the world. "DUDAMEL: Let the Children Play" is a story of hope for the future unfolding right now. As educational institutions underestimate the arts, a movement emerges with the hopes of thousands of children who tell us that music is a universal right.
This course will explore the hallmark of Bach’s achievement: the unique marriage of consummate craftsmanship and intense spirituality. We will examine the depth and complexity of the preludes, fugues, and suites for keyboard, the Brandenburg concerti, and his sacred masterpieces, the Mass in B Minor and the St. Matthew Passion. We will discuss his phenomenal virtuosity, the sometimes surprising duties of a Kapellmeister, and his often contentious relationship with his contemporaries among the nobility and clergy. Finally, we will consider the impact of his tremendous legacy on subsequent composers in the classical and Romantic eras.
The Romantic Piano Concerto: The Intimate and the Grandoise
6/9/2011 - 7/28/2011 Thursday 10:00 AM - 12:30 PM
This course examines the world of virtuoso piano music. During the Romantic era, the modern piano as we now know it came into being, and with it came a flurry of exceptionally vivid acoustical experimentation, coupled with the intensely personal expression that defined the Romantic era. We will examine the results, from the heady celebration of individual performing virtuosity to the “new” genres we now take for granted, such as Schumann’s intimate music-as-poetry. A survey of the role of nationalism will cover Chopin’s nocturnes and Polish national dances, the evocative works of Dvorak and Janacek, and the cult of Liszt.
When the Baroque movement took a musical turn, the result was an astonishing expansion of forms and techniques for composers, and a new range of virtuoso possibilities for performers. We will study Baroque instrumental styles and genres (sonatas, concertos, and virtuoso keyboard works), the sacred choral repertoire (cantatas and oratorios), and the birth of opera. We will study composers such as Monteverdi, Gluck, Bach, Scarlatti, Handel, Vivaldi, and Purcell. Modern performance practice topics such as the rebirth of the countertenor and the question of historical authenticity will also be discussed.
Frederic Chopin was the soul of the piano. His work is a magical amalgam of the passionate Slavic sensibilities of his Polish heritage and the elegant Gallic style inherited from the French tradition. Despite his self-imposed limitation of writing almost exclusively for piano, Chopin achieved his object of “creating his own personal kingdom.” His scintillating harmonic style and his penchant for creating new forms mark him as the most radical innovator of the Romantic generation. Unique among the great composers, virtually every piece Chopin composed remains in the current concert repertory.
Hope to welcome many regular “Gleacher Creatures” and some newcomers!
An 8-year-old piano student takes on Anthony Tommasini's Top 10 Composers. His wonderful letter (with hand-drawn portaits intended to be Schumann and Tchaikovsky) lists the kid's "greatest" list, plus the ten he likes best. He's sorry if his departures from Tommasini's pick's hurt the critic's feelings.
Last week, the Boston Lyric Opera Annex presented Viktor Ullmann's opera The Emperor of Atlantis (Der Kaiser von Atlantis). Like its better-known counterpart Brundibar, this opera was composed and rehearsed in Theriesienstadt (the Nazi's "model camp" near Prague) and everyone involved in the opera was soon on a train to Auschwitz. Kaiser is a barely-disguised study on Hitler, war and totalitarianism (libretto by Pietr Kien) that may have hastened Ullmann's gassing. Consequently, a professional production inevitably lots of press coverage and reviews.
Decca is launching a new classical label designed to be "more relevant." Meanwhile, the topic of discussion on social media has been Alex Ross's "Why do we hate modern classical music?" from back in November and Michael Fedo's recent follow-up "Why does contemporary classical music spurn melody?" By no means is the classical twitterverse conceding that modern classical music even does spurn melody, while others are defending the place in the world for "ugly" music and debating ways to help people acquire the taste. We hope to find the time to join in the debate. Normally I'd say we missed the window, but if Fedo can respond to a November post in February...
The Queen of Spades for VALENTINE’S DAY? The Met thought it was a nice program in 2004, as I discovered during a recent rebroadcast on their Sirius channel. But what kind of romantic evening is that? This question inspired the list of bad valentine’s day operas below.
In a way, this category is too easy. Almost by definition, operas feature love stories gone tragically wrong. I’m looking for a higher level of Valentine’s Day incompatibility. Ordinary excess like Manon (Lescaut) and garden variety tragic death (sorry, Rodolfo and Mimi) won’t cut it. Also not welcome on this list is any couple who dies together for love. Individual partners who do so will be treated with great skepticism. That goes for thwarted would-be lovers, too (Ahem, baritones). And because there are so many angry spouses (rightly or wrongly) who kill each other, they don’t make the cut unless there’s something especially creepy, intense or ironic about it.
Cheating
Così fan tutte Mozart. This is just awkward. These two guys put on disguises and work an elaborate sting to see if they can seduce each other’s girlfriends. It works, and then… everyone’s kinda OK with it or seething with resentment at the altar, depending on the director.
Eine florentinische Tragödie Zemlinsky. Wife of working class husband cheats with fancy aristocrat, husband kills aristocrat with his bare hands, and wife is REALLY turned on. We hear this as much as we see it. Violence rekindling romance.
Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District Shostakovich. It’s not just that Katerina conspires with Sergei kill her husband so they can be together, only to get dumped on her way to the gulag and drown herself in a river. As with Florentine Tragedy, it’s how frankly erotic the music is. The desperation and claustrophobia is a brilliant achievement by Shostakovich, but (to steal from a Twitter game/Pravda editorial) this is a muddle instead of a marriage.
Infanticide
Médée Cherubini. Jason dumps Medea, Medea kills the kids.
Jenůfa Janacek. Jenůfagets pregnant with Števa’s baby, then a jealous Laca slashes her face. Now Števa won’t marry her because she’s disfigured, and Laca won’t marry her because of Števa’s baby. Jenůfa’s stepmother drowns the baby in the river, and Jenůfa gets blamed. Once it’s all sorted out, the stepmother is forgiven on her way to jail and Jenůfa and Laca… get married? It’s really much more upsetting than I’m making it sound.
Codependency
Rigoletto Verdi. After being deflowered under false pretenses, Gilda “takes a bullet” for her guilty lover, dying for him as he jauntily sings how fickle women are.
The Queen of Spades. Tchaikovsky. Hermann loves Liza and his obsession with winning at cards is totally only about getting the money to marry her. Liza is sufficiently obsessed with Hermann, even after he kills her Grandma and won’t give up the cards, to eventually drown herself in the river.
(At this point, drowning in the river constitutes a pattern.)
Stranger Danger
Carmen Bizet. John Gibbons thought this one up. The dangerous stranger he has in mind is not named Carmen.
Duke Bluebeard’s Castle Bartok. Judith marries a guy she knows nothing about, then starts starts snooping around in his storage. The more threatening her discoveries get, the more she just has to keep opening those stupid doors. Judy, don’t just DTMFA. Run!
In A Class By Themselves
Lucia di Lammermoor Donizetti. Lucia is forced to marry the wrong man, so she kills him in the bridal bed and then loses her mind. Fortunately, her coloratura technique is undamaged. Out she comes to sing her famous mad scene in a blood-soaked gown in front of all her wedding guests. The guy she really loves then has to stab himself, unless his scene gets cut so that the mad scene can be the ending of the opera.
What makes Lucia sound even more crazy is the use of a glass harmonica in the mad scene. This rarely-heard instrument raises the goosebumps because it blends with the soprano and clashes with all the other instruments. For business reasons, Donizetti was forced to replace the glass harmonica with a flute in the original production, but this Met production was able to make the original instrumentation happen.
Salome Richard Strauss. Salome to severed, blood-dripping head of John the Baptist: “Ah! I have kissed your mouth, Jochanaan. Ah! I have kissed your mouth! It was a bitter taste on your lips, was it blood?” All this and more, over a suggestive orchestral swell. Enough said.
Lulu Berg. This one owns the Codependency category but it’s so much more than that! Husband #1 drops dead. Husband #2 knifes himself. Husband #3 shot by Lulu. (Son of Husband #3 gets really turned on when Lulu announces “I killed your father on this sofa.”) Girlfriend willingly acquires typhus to help Lulu escape jail, agrees to have sex with a man (she’s a lesbian so that’s even more of a sacrifice) to help Lulu evade jail AGAIN, and finally gets murdered by Jack the Ripper. So does Lulu, but that hardly makes up for the carnage in her wake. This is much better than I’m making it sound, but it’s not for a special date – unless you’re looking for a litmus test. (It’s probably like taking a date to see “Antichrist.” The movie version of this story, BTW is “Pandora’s Box” starring Louise Brooks.)
Here is a fairly literal rendition of the final scene. Sorry for the lack of subtitles. Lulu is now a prostitute, so reduced that she ends up paying her last client, who is Jack the Ripper. Her lover Countess Geschwitz begins to talk of making a new life for herself, studying law and working for women’s rights. She then overhears Lulu’s murder and is stabbed on Jack the Ripper’s way out. Her final words are “Lulu, I am always with you.”
And if you have a strong stomach, here is a far more lurid production. Film is an integral part of this opera, and in this version, the musical interlude before the final scene features a film of human dissection. After that, an interpretation of the final scene that makes several departures from the text.
Bonnie Gibbons
