One thing I have noticed coming up in this class a lot so far is the discussion about how effective operas we have studied are as televised / movie productions. Willie Stark has proven to be yet another candidate for this debate. If the reviews we read are any indication, it appears that Willie Stark has become one of the most successful candidates for television or the movie theater.
Two reviews were presented to the class, one a review of the stage production at Houston Grand Opera while the other was a review of the televised PBS special. Reading these two reviews is like night and day in the way the critic receives the production. Henahan's April 27, 1981 review of the stage production takes searing shots at Floyd's score, one of the most telling being "Fortunately, Mr. Floyd's music did not often demand a place in the foreground." This sentiment actually falls in line with an opinion that seems fairly widely held among our class: the music itself is not as stirring or memorable as other operas. Many students have said something along the lines of 'I would not go out and a buy the CD.'
I myself agree with Shelley's assertion that the music is just one integrated part of this work. With all the parts presented together, Willie Stark is a compelling and effective production. I believe that the second review, that by John J. O'Connor, reflects this idea. He discusses the Prince staging, the dramatic aspects of the performers, and comes to the conclusion that the show was truly enjoyable and poignant. And it seems that the show found it's balance in this made-for-tv version, as it underwent editing that resulted in nearly 50 minutes of the stage version being cut. Whatever reasons caused the cuts to be made for a TV production, they apparently enhanced the show immeasurably from the perspective of the critics. This would suggest that the show actually works best as a televised production.
This semester, I had an interesting balance of old and new opera by having this course, where we look at some of the latest in opera, as well as Opera Literature 1, which looks at the very start of opera. I have found that videos of the older operas, while entertaining, almost always feel like they are missing something. In contrast, I have found that the more recent operas seem to work much better on film. While I of course prefer live opera, it seems that operas created in our television- / movie-driven society stand up to being presented in this medium more effectively than their predecessors.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Stereotypes: Then and Now
From what I have been reading of everyone else's blogs, it seems that I am not alone to have come from our class on Tuesday thinking a lot about stereotypes. It was an essential element of our discussion on Willie Stark, and like many of my peers, it lead me to further thought on the topic since. I began to consider the idea of stereotypes over the wider span of theatre, musical and otherwise.
By looking at the history of the dramatic arts, it is clear that early in our recorded history man had already realized that stereotypes make things accessible to a large population. From what I have experienced, the first truly masterful use of stereotypes on a wide scale came with the advent of comedia dell'arte. Here you had an entire art form built around stereotypes: the lovers, the bumbling old men, the clever servant, the acrobatic fool. To add to the stereotypical nature of comedia, the characters were even originally designed to represent stereotypes of specific Italian regions or cities (for example, Pantalone was the embodiment of Venice). These characters found their way into grand opera with such characters as Susanna (Columbina), Doctor Bartolo (Il Dottore) and Cherubino / Barbarina (Innamorati) in Le nozze di Figaro.
I believe that the popular use of stereotypes in this manner is, like Rachel suggests, a key element that "makes stories universal and timeless." By creating characters to which everyone can relate, you make the story appeal to a broad audience and make it more likely that this connection will continue into the next generation. I believe that Willie Stark captures this well; if I had any doubts about it before Tuesday's class, they were laid to rest as various students talked about how they recognized someone in their own life that paralleled this character or that.
By looking at the history of the dramatic arts, it is clear that early in our recorded history man had already realized that stereotypes make things accessible to a large population. From what I have experienced, the first truly masterful use of stereotypes on a wide scale came with the advent of comedia dell'arte. Here you had an entire art form built around stereotypes: the lovers, the bumbling old men, the clever servant, the acrobatic fool. To add to the stereotypical nature of comedia, the characters were even originally designed to represent stereotypes of specific Italian regions or cities (for example, Pantalone was the embodiment of Venice). These characters found their way into grand opera with such characters as Susanna (Columbina), Doctor Bartolo (Il Dottore) and Cherubino / Barbarina (Innamorati) in Le nozze di Figaro.
I believe that the popular use of stereotypes in this manner is, like Rachel suggests, a key element that "makes stories universal and timeless." By creating characters to which everyone can relate, you make the story appeal to a broad audience and make it more likely that this connection will continue into the next generation. I believe that Willie Stark captures this well; if I had any doubts about it before Tuesday's class, they were laid to rest as various students talked about how they recognized someone in their own life that paralleled this character or that.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Response to Marian's "Satyagraha Staging"
Not having had the pleasure of discussing the artistic aspects of Glass's Satyagraha in depth yesterday, I found it very interesting to read Marian's post about the class discussion on this topic. Particularly of interest to me was the concept of Satyagraha performed in the style of Disney's "It's a Small World" ride.
The first thoughts that I had about this idea go along with Marian's discussion of having an unlimited budget. The thought of some gigantic theme park-styled creation through with the audience travels during the course of several hours seems appealing if for no other reason than the uniqueness of the experience. With Glass's connection to the film industry, it is not even entirely unreasonable to conceive such feature being found at a park such as Universal Studios in Orlando. Given a limitless budget, I could see each scene as a multi-faceted experience, perhaps each scene housed in its own room. The most visual image I have is of the battlefield, with the audience vehicles weaving in and out of the factions on stage. By creating a set that is actually a multi-dimensional world for the audience to experience, you nearly guarantee that attention is held far more effectively than you might find in a more traditional staging of the opera.
These thoughts of budgetary grandeur aside, I do believe there is a slightly more feasible way to create a similar experience for an audience. If you do a broadcast such as the MET does with their HD broadcasts to movie theaters, that would create the basis for my idea. For anyone who has ever been to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, Virginia, and has gone on the 4D ride in Ireland there, you will understand this concept. The film would involve 3D visual effects that could allow a perceived experience of traveling throughout the set, just as if you were in a vehicle riding among the performers. The added dimension, though, is that the seats are part of a rig that moves with what you are seeing. An example (sticking with the idea of the battlefield set): at one point, the perspective of the audience becomes an aerial one, where you are looking down on the scene unfolding beneath you: the seats actually tip forward, as if the vehicle you were in was pointed down at the set below. This also would allow more intricate perspectives for the audience than could be arranged in an actual vehicle: it would be far more difficult to have a real vehicle, perhaps on a track of some kind, soaring down from above the action. Movies would allow that to work easier.
This idea also seems fitting when considering the kind of imagery used in Koyaanisqasti, particularly the shots soaring over landscapes.
The first thoughts that I had about this idea go along with Marian's discussion of having an unlimited budget. The thought of some gigantic theme park-styled creation through with the audience travels during the course of several hours seems appealing if for no other reason than the uniqueness of the experience. With Glass's connection to the film industry, it is not even entirely unreasonable to conceive such feature being found at a park such as Universal Studios in Orlando. Given a limitless budget, I could see each scene as a multi-faceted experience, perhaps each scene housed in its own room. The most visual image I have is of the battlefield, with the audience vehicles weaving in and out of the factions on stage. By creating a set that is actually a multi-dimensional world for the audience to experience, you nearly guarantee that attention is held far more effectively than you might find in a more traditional staging of the opera.
These thoughts of budgetary grandeur aside, I do believe there is a slightly more feasible way to create a similar experience for an audience. If you do a broadcast such as the MET does with their HD broadcasts to movie theaters, that would create the basis for my idea. For anyone who has ever been to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, Virginia, and has gone on the 4D ride in Ireland there, you will understand this concept. The film would involve 3D visual effects that could allow a perceived experience of traveling throughout the set, just as if you were in a vehicle riding among the performers. The added dimension, though, is that the seats are part of a rig that moves with what you are seeing. An example (sticking with the idea of the battlefield set): at one point, the perspective of the audience becomes an aerial one, where you are looking down on the scene unfolding beneath you: the seats actually tip forward, as if the vehicle you were in was pointed down at the set below. This also would allow more intricate perspectives for the audience than could be arranged in an actual vehicle: it would be far more difficult to have a real vehicle, perhaps on a track of some kind, soaring down from above the action. Movies would allow that to work easier.
This idea also seems fitting when considering the kind of imagery used in Koyaanisqasti, particularly the shots soaring over landscapes.
Passive Civil Disobedience: Perhaps Not the American Way?
As we have been talking about the non-violent approach to civil disobedience employed by Ghandi and his followers in India, and expounded upon in Satyagraha, I have thought more about why the American separation from the British Empire was so drastically different. While no sociologist or anthropologist who can identify the cultural reasons and implications of my idea, I nonetheless believe that there is something ingrained in the American psyche that causes us to be more forceful in defending our beliefs than other peoples around the world.
Looking back over our history, when the American people have tried to defend their rights, particularly those pertaining to freedom, we have always done so in a forceful way. Even before the Revolutionary War, we resorted to actions such as the Boston Tea Party; an act of destroying British property / goods. Then we had the Revolutionary War, followed by the War of 1812. After that, our country was firmly established, and our sovereignty secure.
The violence does not stop there, however. When the region now comprising Texas and the other border states with Mexico came into dispute in the mid-nineteenth century, the Mexican War ensued. Here, we had many future leaders of the American Civil War fighting alongside each other. Again, our response to possibly losing this land, this portion of our freedom, was war.
The American Civil War is arguably the greatest example of this trend in American history. No matter which cause of the war you agree with, be it to free the slaves held in the South or to defend a state's right to govern itself, you again have this idea of freedom being challenged. The resulting violent protest lasted four years and ended with over 350,000 wounded and nearly 200,000 dead. This was the ultimate example of the American reaction to threatened freedom, for it was American vs. American, each with their own views of why they were fighting.
Now, this is by no means to say that such events are unique to the history of the United States. It is merely intended as a way of identifying one possible reason why the idea of non-violent civil disobedience, which Kozinn points out is the main theme of Satyagraha, may seem rather foreign to our culture, one that has known violence as the standard reaction to threatened freedom.
Looking back over our history, when the American people have tried to defend their rights, particularly those pertaining to freedom, we have always done so in a forceful way. Even before the Revolutionary War, we resorted to actions such as the Boston Tea Party; an act of destroying British property / goods. Then we had the Revolutionary War, followed by the War of 1812. After that, our country was firmly established, and our sovereignty secure.
The violence does not stop there, however. When the region now comprising Texas and the other border states with Mexico came into dispute in the mid-nineteenth century, the Mexican War ensued. Here, we had many future leaders of the American Civil War fighting alongside each other. Again, our response to possibly losing this land, this portion of our freedom, was war.
The American Civil War is arguably the greatest example of this trend in American history. No matter which cause of the war you agree with, be it to free the slaves held in the South or to defend a state's right to govern itself, you again have this idea of freedom being challenged. The resulting violent protest lasted four years and ended with over 350,000 wounded and nearly 200,000 dead. This was the ultimate example of the American reaction to threatened freedom, for it was American vs. American, each with their own views of why they were fighting.
Now, this is by no means to say that such events are unique to the history of the United States. It is merely intended as a way of identifying one possible reason why the idea of non-violent civil disobedience, which Kozinn points out is the main theme of Satyagraha, may seem rather foreign to our culture, one that has known violence as the standard reaction to threatened freedom.
Monday, February 15, 2010
A response to Claire's Post: "Musicals and TV"
I find this train of thought rather interesting, despite the fact that it does not directly connect to our discussion on Barber. However, I find a valid connection in the distinction between something that is sheer spectacle and something that has dramatic substance. In essence, this could be a way of looking at the difference between Barber's concept and that of Zeffirelli. This also connects to my other post this week.
Barber was inspired by a dramatic work, Shakespeare's play of Antony and Cleopatra. This is a tragedy / history from one of the greatest dramatic minds in the history of the English-speaking world. Any opera inspired by the play itself would have to be driven by a desire to capture the dramatic essence of the play in an operatic medium. To satisfy this desire, the gradiose spectacle of such works as Aida or Wagner's Ring Cycle would not necessarily be appropriate. Remember, many of Shakespeare's plays were performed on a stage with minimal sets and very little in the way of special effects.
Zeffirelli's concept would have fallen into this idea of the spectacle superseding the drama. In musical theater terms, Zeffirelli's idea would have been a Disney production like Tarzan was on Broadway. Lots of flying bugs and monkeys on bungee chords all over the stage, but not an instant theatrical classic.
Barber was inspired by a dramatic work, Shakespeare's play of Antony and Cleopatra. This is a tragedy / history from one of the greatest dramatic minds in the history of the English-speaking world. Any opera inspired by the play itself would have to be driven by a desire to capture the dramatic essence of the play in an operatic medium. To satisfy this desire, the gradiose spectacle of such works as Aida or Wagner's Ring Cycle would not necessarily be appropriate. Remember, many of Shakespeare's plays were performed on a stage with minimal sets and very little in the way of special effects.
Zeffirelli's concept would have fallen into this idea of the spectacle superseding the drama. In musical theater terms, Zeffirelli's idea would have been a Disney production like Tarzan was on Broadway. Lots of flying bugs and monkeys on bungee chords all over the stage, but not an instant theatrical classic.
Shakespeare on the operatic stage: Why won't it work?
One idea briefly mentioned in the article has caused me a lot of thought: Why was it that only one Shakespearean adaptation that used the Bard's language was successful? I admit that I am not particularly familiar with Britten's A Midsummer Night's Dream, but I do know the play. I believe that the best explanation I can surmise lies in that very source: the play itself.
In the article we read, Heyman states that not only was Midsummer the only successful adaptation of word-for-word text from the Bard, but that all of the Roman tragedies had proven infertile ground for opera libretti. I believe this is the result of a fundamental aspect of opera: opera is larger than life.
When I think of Egypt on the operatic stage, of course my first thought is of Aida, and specifically of a set for it which I saw on the stage of the Arena Theater in Verona, Italy. We were touring the Arena during the day while the stagehands were assembling the stage for Aida that night, and I was awed by the sheer magnitude of the golden sphinx and other statues that adorned the stage. While this seems to fit perfectly into the ideas that Zeffirelli had about Barber's Antony and Cleopatra, it doesn't mesh with the Shakespearean play that was the inspiration for Barber.
Shakepeare was deeply interested in the human aspects of his characters in the Roman tragedies / histories. Thus we see development between these great men and not only Cleopatra, but their own wives, too. You see this in both Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra. The characters are more real, more life-like, than might easily be adaptable to the operatic stage. In contrast, A Midsummer Night's Dream deals with fairies, magic, transformation of a human into a donkey...in other words, wonderful fodder for operatic development.
In the article we read, Heyman states that not only was Midsummer the only successful adaptation of word-for-word text from the Bard, but that all of the Roman tragedies had proven infertile ground for opera libretti. I believe this is the result of a fundamental aspect of opera: opera is larger than life.
When I think of Egypt on the operatic stage, of course my first thought is of Aida, and specifically of a set for it which I saw on the stage of the Arena Theater in Verona, Italy. We were touring the Arena during the day while the stagehands were assembling the stage for Aida that night, and I was awed by the sheer magnitude of the golden sphinx and other statues that adorned the stage. While this seems to fit perfectly into the ideas that Zeffirelli had about Barber's Antony and Cleopatra, it doesn't mesh with the Shakespearean play that was the inspiration for Barber.
Shakepeare was deeply interested in the human aspects of his characters in the Roman tragedies / histories. Thus we see development between these great men and not only Cleopatra, but their own wives, too. You see this in both Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra. The characters are more real, more life-like, than might easily be adaptable to the operatic stage. In contrast, A Midsummer Night's Dream deals with fairies, magic, transformation of a human into a donkey...in other words, wonderful fodder for operatic development.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Optimism and the Loss Thereof in Bernstein's Candide
Friday's discussion of optimism, particularly in the Chenoweth / Groves version of Bernstein's Candide, lead to further thought on my part after our class discussion ended. I wanted to expound a bit more upon my ideas on the topic.
To me, the most poignant aspect of Candide is the cynicism inherent in the protagonist's loss of innocence and naivete. It is a love story not of the mold. Yes, the story contains familiar romantic elements such as Boy loves Girl, Boy loses Girl, and Boy gets Girl in the end. However, the details surrounding these familiar situations are not what we expect to find in a romantic comedy. The most drastic break from the expected outcome of a more optimistic love story comes with the final element, Boy and Girl marrying and being together. Unlike in most modern love stories, where the differences that caused an initial separation are resolved and everyone ends up happy, Candide and Cunegonde do not merely resolved all their problems. Instead, the story is about accepting things as they are. The idealized lives they each had envisioned in the beginning of the opera are finally realized to be nothing more than unattainable dreams. Instead, the couple accepts their lot in this world and endeavor to make the most of it.
To me, this determination and acceptance of reality is very admirable in the characters, but is not exactly the optimistic resolution one might hope for. However, despite this end being perhaps more earthy and grounded than one might wish, I find it more powerful. This loss of some of the initial optimism of the characters creates a stirring, realistic message to the audience that I believe is very applicable to the world we live in today. Our world is far from ideal; far from Utopian. However, the only hand we can play is that which we are dealt. If we venture forth with a determination to "make our garden grow", we can make the most of the imperfect world we live in, and perhaps one day make things truly better.
I believe that the power of this conclusion is lost in the Chenoweth / Groves production, because I believe they overshadow the more serious, less optimistic elements with their glitz and glamour.
To me, the most poignant aspect of Candide is the cynicism inherent in the protagonist's loss of innocence and naivete. It is a love story not of the mold. Yes, the story contains familiar romantic elements such as Boy loves Girl, Boy loses Girl, and Boy gets Girl in the end. However, the details surrounding these familiar situations are not what we expect to find in a romantic comedy. The most drastic break from the expected outcome of a more optimistic love story comes with the final element, Boy and Girl marrying and being together. Unlike in most modern love stories, where the differences that caused an initial separation are resolved and everyone ends up happy, Candide and Cunegonde do not merely resolved all their problems. Instead, the story is about accepting things as they are. The idealized lives they each had envisioned in the beginning of the opera are finally realized to be nothing more than unattainable dreams. Instead, the couple accepts their lot in this world and endeavor to make the most of it.
To me, this determination and acceptance of reality is very admirable in the characters, but is not exactly the optimistic resolution one might hope for. However, despite this end being perhaps more earthy and grounded than one might wish, I find it more powerful. This loss of some of the initial optimism of the characters creates a stirring, realistic message to the audience that I believe is very applicable to the world we live in today. Our world is far from ideal; far from Utopian. However, the only hand we can play is that which we are dealt. If we venture forth with a determination to "make our garden grow", we can make the most of the imperfect world we live in, and perhaps one day make things truly better.
I believe that the power of this conclusion is lost in the Chenoweth / Groves production, because I believe they overshadow the more serious, less optimistic elements with their glitz and glamour.
My Introduction to Opera
This past week, a conversation began in class about how we all were introduced to opera. I found it interesting, though certainly not unexpected, how many different paths have lead us all to where we are today. I followed just one more, different path.
I began an interest in musical theatre early on, appearing in my first musical, Oliver, at the age of 10. I was hooked years before this, though, by a recording my parents had of The Phantom of the Opera. They purchased the recording in 1993, when they went to the National Tour performance in Detroit, Michigan. I started listening to the two audio cassettes soon after, and was hooked. I think that this lead me to an early appreciation of the classically trained voice.
The next big hook for me came one morning when I was around 13 years old. The television show Good Morning, America, was holding a wedding in Times Square, and for a special song had brought in British tenor Russell Watson. He sang the song "Caruso", and I was amazed at his ability to switch between a lighter, almost pop-ish sound, to the full-voiced classical singing of the refrain. I began to purchase his CDs, and then took a chance on a compilation CD of various tenors. Of the 18 tracks on this CD, Watson sang one, Andrea Bocelli sang one, and Giuseppe di Stefando sang one. The remaining 15 were evenly divided between Carreras, Domingo, and Pavarotti. This was my first big exposure to The Three Tenors, and I instantly became a Pavarotti admirer. This was the final hook I needed to become a true opera fan.
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