Stephen Llewellyn has been with Portland Opera for nearly four years. He has also been a barrister in Hong Kong, a professional folk singer and classically-trained tenor. He makes a mean zabaglione, and cries easily and frequently at opera performances.
It's what you - or more particularly, I - don't know that comes as such a delightful though sometimes disturbing surprise to me over and over again. F'rinstance, I know a bit about opera. Perhaps more than just a bit or I suppose someone else would be writing this blog and I would not be able to use the soubriquet Operaman without producing a chorus of sniggers. I am well aware that I am not in any way an opera expert but I am cognizant enough of the general canon that if someone mentions Monteverdi I don't think they are discussing a light and fruity white from the hills surrounding Florence and I can immediately pitch in with a smattering of talk of opera in early 17th century Venice.
Alex Ross, on the other hand, is most definitely an expert on music including opera and I both admire and respect his views. So when I read of him being all a-twitter about a performance that is to take place at Lincoln Center of Die Soldaten by Bernd Alois Zimmerman I asked Mr. Google to give me some information about a work about which I knew nothing, written by a composer of whom I had never heard. I was directed to Wikipedia where I learned that Herr Zimmerman was a West German composer who lived from 1918-1970 and that his opera Die Soldaten "is regarded as one of the most important operas of the 20th century." It is? What, like up there with Lulu and Peter Grimes and Salome and The Rake's Progress? It's not that I doubt the writer of these words (although they do seem a tad hyperbolic to me, but still); it's that I am discovering almost daily that my ignorance runs both broader and deeper than I am comfortable with. So, what to do? Should I spend more time boning up on opera at the expense of trying to keep abreast of cultural matters and world affairs generally? Or is it okay to accept that I am something of an intellectual grazer, happy to chew on the tasty buds of knowledge while leaving the roots to those who are made of sterner academic stuff?
Anyway, back to Die Soldaten. I had a look at a preview which you can find here on the New York Times web site. If any of you decides to get a group together to go to New York to see it, then as Sam Goldwyn said - include me out!
I hope you all had a wonderful July 4th. I am proud of myself. For once I did not keep on saying how we English are so happy to have granted you independence (an annoying habit which was sure to result in me being punched in the nose one day. And well deserved it would be!) and I forebor from pointing out to anyone that the tune to “The Star Spangled Banner” originated as an 18th century English drinking song known as “To Anacreon in Heaven.” I did attend a barbeque at the home of Elizabeth and Holly, drank beer and ate hot-dogs. I think I may finally be becoming culturally assimilated.
In less happy news La Stupenda, Dame Joan Sutherland broke both of her legs a couple of days ago while gardening in Switzerland. I am sure we all wish her a very speedy recovery. I wonder whether she swears as broadly in French as she does in Australian....
If it's July it must be time for the Annual Wagner Orgy otherwise known as the Bayreuth Festival. As I have mentioned here before getting tickets to this event is about as easy as securing seats behind home plate for a World Series game. But this year the festival's organizers, having seen the success with which the Met has brought its opera to the masses, has decided to go one step further and stream its opening performance live over the internet. The main difference is that in this case the masses will be watching on comparatively tiny screens and will be paying the comparatively not-tiny sum of $77 a head for the privilege. That was not a typo, gentle readers...I really did write and mean $77. I hate to be a dog-in-a-manger but I hope it is not a commercial success. If Peter Gelb in his office at the Lincoln Center reads of hundreds of thousands of people being prepared to pay seventy-seven bucks to watch opera on their lap-tops how long do you think the HD transmissions to movie theaters are going to be priced in the twenty dollar range?
Over in the Parterre Box, La Cieca recently held another regie contest in which she posted several photographs of a modern operatic abortion production and invited guesses as to the identity of the opera. The picture at the top of today's post was one of those very photos. As usual there were many guesses and witty responses. My favorite: "If that's a hat the guy is holding it's Fanciulla. If it's a bedpan, it's Bohème!"
Keep enjoying Summer and come back for more here next week! I leave you with this:
Submitted by Bob (not verified) on Mon, 07/14/2008 - 10:56.
I have no way of knowing if Die Soldaten is, in fact, "regarded as one of the most important operas of the 20th century," or if this assessment is perhaps just wishful thinking on someone's part, but it seems to me that any judgment one way or the other would require more than a 3 minute video clip.
Submitted by Stephen Llewellyn (not verified) on Tue, 07/15/2008 - 09:50.
I quite agree Bob. Let me be clear. I wasn't making any judgement on the importance of the opera based on a three minute clip only my decision that I want no part of actually paying money to see it. My decision is bolstered by the reviews I have read of the recent performance at The Armory. Alex Ross was quite enthusiastic but on this topic he and I are just going to have to agree to disagree. Do you know this opera at all, Bob and if so, what do you make of it?
Submitted by Bob (not verified) on Tue, 07/15/2008 - 12:11.
My only exposure to Die Soldaten was through the recording conducted by Michael Gielen, and that was probably 15 years ago. Looking back on it, I'm not sure that was really the best way to approach the opera, especially since so much of its impact seems to come through visually, but there weren't any other options at the time.
Zimmermann's music makes considerable demands on the listener, and it may be that for some, the end result simply isn't worth all the additional work. I'd suggest, though, that "The Art of the Fugue," Beethoven's "Hammerklavier" Sonata, or Shostakovich's Fourteenth String Quartet are also, in their own way, just as demanding, and they all require us to exert a certain amount of effort in order to meet them more or less on their own terms. One of the great things about culture is that we're free to choose whether or not we wish to initiate that experience in the first place.
Submitted by Stephen Llewellyn (not verified) on Thu, 07/17/2008 - 01:13.
Here's where I stand on the issue of making an effort to understand, Bob. I am very happy to put in the time and effort to develop a more informed and closer relationship with a piece of art whether it be a piece of music or a painting or perhaps a work of literature. But I leave it to the artist to 'kick-start' my efforts in the sense that I need to feel some sense of reassurance before I begin that my effort will result in some pay-back. For instance, I may attend an opera of which I am not at first blush particularly fond a number of times because I just somehow know or intuit that if I can only come to grips with the piece I am going to 'get it'. It may not necessarily result in an "AHA!" moment but at least I can feel that I have a better understanding of the work and begin to appreciate parts that were initially hidden from me - even if in plain view. That is very much how I feel about Wagner's operas. John Cage's works fell into that category for me. In making myself listen to pieces which seemed very strange at first I began to discover the elements of whimsy, irony and fun which I now find inherent in so much of what he 'wrote'. In contrast, when I heard Birtwhistle's Punch and Judy it just struck me as an infernal racket and nothing about it said to me "Just give this a chance; you're missing something here". I didn't feel that the composer could care less whether his audience came to an understanding of the work or not. To which my reaction is: if he doesn't care then why should I?
It's what you - or more particularly, I - don't know that comes as such a delightful though sometimes disturbing surprise to me over and over again. F'rinstance, I know a bit about opera. Perhaps more than just a bit or I suppose someone else would be writing this blog and I would not be able to use the soubriquet Operaman without producing a chorus of sniggers. I am well aware that I am not in any way an opera expert but I am cognizant enough of the general canon that if someone mentions Monteverdi I don't think they are discussing a light and fruity white from the hills surrounding Florence and I can immediately pitch in with a smattering of talk of opera in early 17th century Venice.
I have no way of knowing if
I have no way of knowing if Die Soldaten is, in fact, "regarded as one of the most important operas of the 20th century," or if this assessment is perhaps just wishful thinking on someone's part, but it seems to me that any judgment one way or the other would require more than a 3 minute video clip.
I quite agree Bob. Let me
I quite agree Bob. Let me be clear. I wasn't making any judgement on the importance of the opera based on a three minute clip only my decision that I want no part of actually paying money to see it. My decision is bolstered by the reviews I have read of the recent performance at The Armory. Alex Ross was quite enthusiastic but on this topic he and I are just going to have to agree to disagree. Do you know this opera at all, Bob and if so, what do you make of it?
My only exposure to Die
My only exposure to Die Soldaten was through the recording conducted by Michael Gielen, and that was probably 15 years ago. Looking back on it, I'm not sure that was really the best way to approach the opera, especially since so much of its impact seems to come through visually, but there weren't any other options at the time.
Zimmermann's music makes considerable demands on the listener, and it may be that for some, the end result simply isn't worth all the additional work. I'd suggest, though, that "The Art of the Fugue," Beethoven's "Hammerklavier" Sonata, or Shostakovich's Fourteenth String Quartet are also, in their own way, just as demanding, and they all require us to exert a certain amount of effort in order to meet them more or less on their own terms. One of the great things about culture is that we're free to choose whether or not we wish to initiate that experience in the first place.
Here's where I stand on the
Here's where I stand on the issue of making an effort to understand, Bob. I am very happy to put in the time and effort to develop a more informed and closer relationship with a piece of art whether it be a piece of music or a painting or perhaps a work of literature. But I leave it to the artist to 'kick-start' my efforts in the sense that I need to feel some sense of reassurance before I begin that my effort will result in some pay-back. For instance, I may attend an opera of which I am not at first blush particularly fond a number of times because I just somehow know or intuit that if I can only come to grips with the piece I am going to 'get it'. It may not necessarily result in an "AHA!" moment but at least I can feel that I have a better understanding of the work and begin to appreciate parts that were initially hidden from me - even if in plain view. That is very much how I feel about Wagner's operas. John Cage's works fell into that category for me. In making myself listen to pieces which seemed very strange at first I began to discover the elements of whimsy, irony and fun which I now find inherent in so much of what he 'wrote'. In contrast, when I heard Birtwhistle's Punch and Judy it just struck me as an infernal racket and nothing about it said to me "Just give this a chance; you're missing something here". I didn't feel that the composer could care less whether his audience came to an understanding of the work or not. To which my reaction is: if he doesn't care then why should I?