My mad dream
No, not my ultimate mad dream, of course. No extra-planetary utopias in the works just yet, this is more of a run of the mill everyday dream, but somewhat mad just the same. It starts with a description of how and why I came to love opera.
A dozen years ago opera, to me, was a staid, unapproachable cultural experience, known to be dreadfully boring and attended only by pompous, mostly ancient fat cat republicans. I'd dipped my toe in the sophisto cultural arena, having actually "performed" in the ballet Giselle as a supernumerary- or spear carrier as they're called in the show. An extra, a non-dancing part in which I carried a fake stag with another super in the return of the hunting party scene. It was only the somewhat provincial Sacramento ballet, but it felt magnificent. I should have known I'd get pulled in again to the excitement of dramatic musical theater. It was a few years later when I saw a billboard on the side of a San Francisco bus "opera- the original multimedia" that something of that ballet experience must have tickled my unconscious and I thought for the first time, maybe it's true. I should see one. I had a perfect opportunity before my first trip to Russia when the SF Opera put on Ruslan and Ludmilla, an old Russian fable and I was sorely tempted. Still, my old bias, coupled with the need to save dough for the trip, was enough to prevent me. In Russia itself, in the magical month of my courtship I finally broke through. Sophia had Aida on her program, staged in the magnificent Marinski Theater.
Aida was a good one to start with, because it's an awesome assault on the senses with visual pageantry, including a classic grand march through a dazzling Egyptian sphinx-lined avenue featuring hundreds of supers, incredible costumes and a splendid stage set. Aida had one thing Giselle had lacked- singing. I didn't fully grok it at first but I realized there was something definitely there. It wasn't just a rich man's empty diversion. It wasn't until years later that Sophia and I attended our first opera in SF, The Tsar's Bride by Rimsky-Korsakov. The music moved me and the story engaged me to a high degree, but the singing just knocked me out. The main soprano who played Marfa- the doomed bride of Ivan the Terrible- was a relative newcomer to the scene, Anna Netrebko She was a striking Russian brunette with an incredible range and a fluidity to her singing that produced a powerful emotional effect- particularly in the aria she wailed as she succumbed to the poison. A supporting role, played by the veteran Olga Borodino, also Russian, was just as magnificent. I was hooked.
Since then I've seen dozens of operas, both live and on video or DVD. I discovered Verdi early on, with his classic masterpieces like Rigoletto, La Traviata, Falstaff, and the aforementioned Aida. Verdi's music was always rich in beauty and power, his heroes and heroines noble in death and tragedy, his villains notorious. So many wonderful tragic works- I didn't care much for the happier, light-hearted fare. I dived into Puccini with Tosca, Turandot, La Boheme, and Madama Butterfly. Puccini reached right into my soul and wrang out my heart with the despairing beauty of his tortured female protagonists, always with a powerful swan song. There were other joys to come; Janacek with three Czech masterpieces- Jenufa, Katia Kabanova, and the hallucinogenic Cunning Little Vixen, Mozart with his perfect works of art combining his gorgeous music with 2, 3 and 4 part masterpiece chorales. I grew to love these. The best was yet to come. I discovered Richard Wagner via a video performance of der Meistersinger. The sucker was long- three acts of close to a couple of hours each. The first and the second were something I felt I must endure rather than truly enjoy, but early in the third something clicked. A quintet began an aria out of ethereal calm. It mounted slowly and finally hit me hard with it's perfect majesty. Wagner was God. I loved everything Wagner did after that, seeing Lohengrin, The Flying Dutchman, Tristan and Isolde, and Parsifal. The Ring Cycle, a series of four incredibly long Wagnerian masterworks are high on my to be seen list.
So now that I've set the stage, what is this mad dream of the moment? Well, on an entirely different track I'm still a rock'n'roller at heart. One of my all time faves is Pink Floyd, creators of the most incredible romantic drug music next to Jupiter Sheep. The mastermind of the Floyd, Roger Waters, launched my brief musical career with a performance in 1980 in McNichols Arena in Denver. I bought my bass the next day and was playing with the Brickbats within months, then on to the Sheep.
Two months ago, looking for gifts to take to the relations in Russia I walked into Amoeba Records in the Haight and started to browse. I found myself glancing at favorite bands and artists for what they might have that I hadn't seen. In the Waters bin I found something that simply stunned me. An opera. No, it wasn't misfiled (well, maybe it was come to think). It wasn't a rock opera, it was a full blown symphonic opera by Roger Waters by the name of Ca Ira (there is hope), based on a libretto describing the events of the French Revolution. The packaging was gorgeous, the blurb on the cover promised something big. Without the tiniest reservation I bought it immediately. Still I didn't listen right away. I was seriously afraid of disappointment. Roger had always been into the grand concepts and was a known perfectionist, but perhaps he'd overreached. Could it be a colossal embarrassment? I waited weeks for the right opportunity, then couldn't wait anymore and just started listening on my way to and from work. After the first time through it I still wasn't sure. Great works sink in slowly- and it is a great work. Soon I couldn't tear myself away from it- listening at every opportunity, reading the synopsis, then the libretto as it played. The libretto alone was a powerful work. I reviewed the revolution on Wikipedia, I read of it in history books, and I read the libretto word by word while the music played. I honestly don't think I have ever immersed myself in any opera as deeply as this one.
And the music. What can I say? Is it reminiscent of the Floyd? At times very slightly, and in other ways constantly, but on a whole different plain. There is no rock in this, no drums no bass, no synthesizer, and for all practical purposes no Roger. The voices are top notch opera performers; baritone Bryn Terfel, soprano Ying Huang and tenor Paul Groves all carry sterling reputations, and all give everything as I'm sure Roger demanded. What the music shares with the Floyd is the epic scope, the powerful themes, the haunting melodies. In operatic form these characteristics are driven to a higher magnitude. As I said it's not rock opera, but this opera truly rocks. Waters uses many of his favorite devices, sound effects of horses galloping, birds singing, cannons booming, whips cracking. The best effect has a crucial role in the drama and occurs repeatedly, but I won't spoil it for you- you'll have to listen for yourself.
So at last, the dream. Upon reading that the opera has yet to be staged- tentative plans set the debut in St. Petersburg, Russia or Rome- I decided, why not here? Today I sent an email to the new director of the San Francisco Opera, asking if he would grant me the time to introduce him to an operatic masterpiece he simply must hear and San Francisco must have the privilege of witnessing in all it's glory. My impossible dream is that he will say yes, give it a listen, fall for it as have I, and make arrangements for it to be added to the calendar in a future season. Icing on the dream would be for me to get a private box to watch it with Roger (though if he wishes to conduct the orchestra I'll pass on the icing). I wanted to post this account today while the dream is real, before I get a form email back or a firm rejection ("I've heard it- it's garbage!"). Tonight I can hope to have it all.
I hope you've made it this far. If so, I'll reward you with an excerpt from the first scene from Act III, when a dispirited and panicked King Louis attempts to disguise himself and escape with the queen to a foreign protector. They fail, as a loyal friend of the King recognizes him and foolishly offers his repects…
(note: the following links all open in different windows. I suggest opening the link to the mp3 first, then while it loads open the three libretto pages and position them so you can follow along. The lyrics for the excerpt begin halfway through page 1.)
But The Marquis Of Boulli Has A Trump Card Up His Sleeve (5.1Mb mp3)
Bravo! Ambitious, sir. Hope it works out for you.
COndorcet’s an interesting figure. I’ve been re-reading Aspects of the French Revolution and enjoying it, and I would agree with your suggestion that it is an important theme. I still feel Robespierre was not the complete villain he’s usually made out to be. The CUlt of Reason quite interesting (imagine a new, secular calendar: still sort of plausible).
Musically I am not biggest opera buff, but do have the Ring on video. Sehr Gut. I also listen to some of Mussorgsky’s opera music tho I don’t know the libretto. The Italians, well, er, there is a minor key theme maybe of Verdi I have heard I enjoy once in while. The opera staging of Les Mis is sort of cool: Daltrey performed in it.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 8:50 am
I don’t care to interfere with your opera mojo (delete this if you want to), but I on occasion question the specifically musical aspects of opera, even Wagner. (I need to get Rigoletto and La Boheme to listen to, as well as some other Wagner).
As with Debussy, who initially took some interest in Wagner but then rejected his “school”, I find W’s operatic motifs so wildly bombastic as to be nearly irrational (and W. was of course Der Fuhrer’s favorite Komposer). There are a few very cool sections (IM thinking of those strange minor and chromatic sections of Parsifal, or Tannhauser, which I dig), but there are also all these sort of mad sounds and decorations, not so melodic and with more than a hint of the Oom Pah pah germanic sound that horrified not only later listeners such as Debussy or Satie but probably Brahms as well (and Nietzsche, who also an amateur composer).
I mean, yes, Wagner’s profoundly Romantic and in cyberpunk-speak, way dread, but in some sense I would question the Parsifal theme itself: Do we want Wagner’s Holy Grail or Python’s? Not sure. really, Claude’s La Mer a more moving and mysterious piece of music than about anything a German ever did.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 9:13 am
“Do we want Wagner’s Holy Grail or Python’s?”
I want both. I believe that the sacred and the profane are essential elements of the human condition- there’s no need to choose between them.
Regarding criticism of Wagner, I can’t articulate my defense of his music. It just does something for me that I want to thank him for with all my heart. He might have been a completely evil man in some ways, but he has accomplished great good in ways I understand intimately. Call be an oom-pah-ist.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 10:15 am
Not so sure about that, sir. Of course he is a genius, but more of a diabolical genius. That Wagnerian, Parsivalic “good” is, I would assert, a hyper-individualistic Heroic ideal, not unlike Nietzschean Uebermensch (or even say Heinleinian engineer-heroes).
Heroism does appeal to some degree, but is fundamentally militaristic and anti-intellecual. Those grand Wagnerian themes (Kill Da Wabbit!) are closer to marches than to melodies.
As Satie said (btw did you have any luck with the 1st Gymnopedie?), music after Wagner is, or should be “sans Sauerkraut.” I do enjoy some sections (Tannhauser reminds me of the beautiful German forests), but there is plenty of nearly Laurence Welk type heroic schmaltz. La Mer or Claude’s piano images have little schmaltz; the best of Igor S. has no schmaltz (le histoire de soldat an interesting theatrical piece) ; even Brecht and Weill–or Osiris forbid, Zappa– are not too schmaltzy.
But, De gustibus non disputum, etc.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 10:27 am
You think too much.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 10:36 am
Perhaps. But I wager Karl Rove or the Cheneys don’t mind attending a NY Met production of the Ring. THere’s so much f-n major tonality as well. I almost like the real chromatic sections of RW (tho somewhat odd): sort of Stan Kenton-like, but the boy was not one for subtlety, except for that sort of Teutonic “hunting lodge” minor theme: ya know C ..Eb.. G .. Eb.. to C . Rarely even hear a Bb or Dionysius forbid, an F. Nice if you’re in a Stuka I guess.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 10:48 am
Claude, on the other hand, puts the Bb and F in with the C, Eb and G chord (tho having the taste to keep the roots and fifths out of the bass) and voila: jass du par-ee. Then modulate that, toss in some altered dominant 7ths here and there, and have some junkie play chromatic sheete on top of it.
Most hollywood music and jazz does little in terms of advancing music beyond Deb. and Ravel (like the Dead’s eyes of the world–the french freaks like Deb. and Satie played those maj.min 7th chords when they were 16 probably); nor did even Stravinsky, except for the atonality (but Deb. has lots of chromatics and atonal aspects as well).
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 10:56 am
And tho the libretto looks somewhat interesting, is it True? The librettist faces the same problem of authenticity that the playwright or poet does: is he trying to prove something? Or just evoke some pleasant images. A historical work– Aspects of the French Rev.–proves something which we can debate; a libretto evokes/conjures and doesn’t really prove. However splendid, opera and theatre are generally Ancien regime.
The music conjures up things too, but we don’t need to associate it with any historical facts or narrative. Rites of Spring exists regardless of the “truth” of any libretto or narrative. That sort of absolute, immediate quality of great music to me transcends the narrative or operatic qualities.
We don’t know if Macbeth has any relation to reality; but Rites of Spring doesn’t really need such a connection or relation; more like a series of equations than narrative.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 11:19 am
sowwy for extra musical speculation. Delete it if you want to.
Gut Gluck with the opera opportunities man, and par-tayin’ with Rog, a man of great moral vision.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 11:28 am
I was playing the excerpt loudly in my office — blaze walks by –
‘What’s this — The Wall?’
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 4:13 pm
Dewd, The Wall! Like, what a metaphor for like the alienation of us from Truth, yeah.
Rog. and his musico hired guns are doing it at Sho-line; not SF Opera.
His web site with the tits and medals are cool. I wonder if there will be like one flatted fifth or 16th note cadence in the entire program. One can hope (maybe if he like hired Vai or Keith Jarret to play on top of it–yes).
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 4:29 pm
I’d say the closest Floyd comparison is The Wall- especially the excerpt I chose. There is one blatantly recycled theme in the opera, however, from Pros and Cons. Still the overall effect is Wall-like. I could dig the Wall as an opera. Truthfully, at this point I don’t care if Roger never does rock again. I want more operas. How bout Red/Green/Blue Mars?
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 5:13 pm
Do you think the RW band could do like a competent treatment of “Autumn Leaves”, not to say SD’s Bodhisattva–or even St. Stephen? Ich weiss nicht.
Maybe I’ll purchase the CD. The libretto/narrative looks interesting, but muzak, er, well.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 5:20 pm
Opera is so much more than the music alone, or even the libretto plus the music. It’s the whole gestalt. That’s why I so desperately want to see this one staged. It has the potential to be a great opera because I imagine a staging that would arrouse a crowd the way I’ve seen done with some of the best combinations of music, libretto, acting, vocal performance and staging. When everything clicks people just spontaneously leap to their feat shouting bravo! I’ve seen mild mannered looking folks who are probably accountants or insurance execs or something turn to me, a total stranger, with shining eyes saying - “this is a GREAT opera!” just because everything clicked for that show on that night. I want Ca Ira to have that chance. If it flops it flops and maybe I was wrong. Only way to tell is to stage it and hope for the best.
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 5:26 pm
It’s the whole gestalt
Das stimmt! Well-stated, and I agree to some degree, and I’m not one to play censor (I leave that to like KOS or DU regs), but if the music doesn’t fly or stimulate, then personally I don’t care so much for the Drah-mah. Like Verdi’s Othello (Otelo?): perhaps a powerful story about deceit, manipulation, etc. (and opera fans do love their tragedies) but the music seemed simple and sort of lame. so I was not into it. Wagner ambles on for long periods of time and then builds to some somewhat interesting crescendo, but I tend to with Mark Twain that “Wagner’s music is better than it sounds.”
And the “cultural politics” of opera are not simply to be dismissed. It is definitely a sport for the well-to-do; LA opera or Ho-wood Bowl is when the Stahhs and millionaires and USC peeps come out, and it is quite similar in SF: perhaps even a bit higher on the chi chi scale.
I would like to see one of Mussorgsky’s little weird operas. Or Brecht and Weill’s rockin’ 3 Penny (sort of anti-Opera).
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 5:37 pm
It appears I’m too late. The opera HAS been staged… in Rome. This site, has reviews of the event translated from Italian newspapers. They’re not so great, but I expected worse. Considering how seriously the Italians consider opera, I fully expected “the long knives” as Roger expressed it. I hope he is encouraged to continue and further refine his new craft.
Also, I cross-posted this at Daily Kos and got some nice responses (including the tip re: the debut).
Comment on September 6, 2006 @ 10:30 pm
The debut was in Poland, according to Roger Wagners, er, Waters’ site.
I for one am all for more readings of the Revolution. And what might “Ca Ira” mean, N- Dub readers? (It will go/happen). Those french subjunctives : ils ne sont pas amusement. So RW in favor of, horrors, Les Jacobins? y le mort du Condorcet? C’est un scandale!
Comment on September 7, 2006 @ 10:31 am
It is Ça ira, btw. Oooo those stinkin’ froggie diacritics.
Note: Not sure where diacritics are on the wondrous realm of Mac Cobra OS/ X or whatever, but on Windoze, hold down alt and use the numeric keypad for most european marks, and other stuff.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Ç is alt + 128
ñ as in español alt + 164
Comment on September 7, 2006 @ 10:59 am
My dream clings to life! The new director of the SF Opera answered my email. He wishes to hear Ça Ira. I will be delivering it to his office personally tomorrow. Just when I was beginning to think it might be less stellar than I originally thought.
As for what ça ira means, a Francophile on Daily Kos translated it as the kind of phrase you would use when starting a recalcitrant jalopy… “it’ll go, it’ll go”
…and thanks for the diacritical tip ‘zos. It’s option+c on the Mac.
Comment on September 11, 2006 @ 8:53 pm
An outstanding review of Ça Ira is here from someone who realizes its brilliance to the same degree as do I, without reservation.
Comment on September 14, 2006 @ 6:49 am
I just read a great Roger Waters personal experience diary at DailyKos. Check it out.
Comment on October 4, 2006 @ 6:49 am
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