The Operetta "Patricia" -- How It All Began

 In 2017, I took a workshop offered by the Seattle Opera on how to write a libretto. That means how to convert a story into words that will be sung and spoken as a means of telling a story that is fundamentally musical. Grand opera, chamber opera, operetta, oratorio, and musical theater, such as Broadway shows, are various options. 

The workshop was taught by Jessica Murphy Moo, who wrote the libretto for "An American Dream," an opera that has been performed in Seattle (where it was commissioned), Chicago and various other venues. Her course materials focused on a three-act contemporary opera, but she told the dozen or so participants they could do any form they wanted. 

Not a fan of contemporary operas, which are typically "sung through" as opposed to having a number of often-memorable stand-alone arias, I opted for a one-act operetta in neo-Baroque, or Baroque-influenced form. Baroque operas and oratorios, and most notably those by G.F. Handel, most definitely put singers first. Great vocalization was what 18th century London audiences most wanted to hear and Handel knew how to deliver it, often at great expense since while having one of the best European choral traditions (which Handel exploited), the Britain of his day was not known for producing opera singers, most of whom then came from Italy. 

Most useful for me were four points that Ms Murphy Moo emphasized: start in medias res, or in the middle of an ongoing story; the main protagonist must want something; there should be a twist in the plot, and cut, cut, cut, cut, cut. 

I used one chapter of a novel I had been trying to write and boiled it down to rhyming lyrics that packed as much meaning into as few words as possible. It was both a challenge and a lot of fun to do so. Unfortunately, the workshop did not involve any significant collaboration with a composer, and what will follow in subsequent posts has to do with that very significant shortcoming.

I will write more about this project, but meanwhile, if you would like to see whether the concept worked, click the link below.

www.youtube.com/@operetta-patricia

The two songs (about 7 minutes in total) are "All my life I've been sensible" and "I'm good at my work."  After playing the first, YouTube may take you off to other stuff that has nothing to do with me and you may have go back, perhaps by starting over.  Be sure to start each song from the very beginning because there are a few spoken words that help to explain why the songs are being sung. There are also explanations of the songs, including the lyrics, just below the pictures of the videos if you are interested. Click on “more” when you see the text.

Comments are encouraged. 

 

Anna Sui, G.F Handel And Girls Who Are Careless of Time

Do you ever read an article and have a phrase jump out and get you thinking about something different?

That happened to me recently when I was reading a profile of fashion designer Anna Sui in a recent edition of "T, the New York Times Style Magazine."

The clothes she makes aren’t totems of some inaccessibly glamorous life but an invitation: to join the party, to be one of those girls, careless of time and most alive in a crowd, in the crush and heave of friends and strangers who by the end of the night will also be friends.

"One of those girls, careless of time" is the phrase that jumped out at me and got me thinking of an outstanding performance of George Fredrick Handel's first oratorio, "The Triumph of Time," which premiered in 1707 in Rome.  The performance was by Seattle-based Pacific Musicworks and you can listen to it by clicking on that link.

The libretto, a cautionary tale, was written by a Catholic Cardinal named Benedetto Pamphili. In essence, beautiful women are warned against devoting themselves to earthly pleasure and urged to instead make them themselves fit for heaven before it is too late. Delay is dangerous because Time will inevitably triumph.

Could an Anna Sui dress be dangerous, making a woman "careless of time" in the vein of Handel's oratorio?  Or perhaps the author had something else in mind when penning that phrase, but what could it be?

Time, of course, does eventually triumph when it comes to mortals and Handel, himself, eventually succumbed.  Interestingly, a revised version of "The Triumph of Time," with the libretto reworked into English by Thomas Morell, was performed in 1757 when Handel was blind. He died in 1759.

A Thought for Easter in the Age of Better Social Justice

 Handel's "Messiah" is usually performed during the Christmas season here in the U.S., but it is arguably more appropriate for Easter, and given increasing calls for better social justice in the era of soaring income inequality, BIPOC awareness and Black Lives Matter, I think it is worth pointing out one air, aria or song very near the beginning of the piece.

"Every Valley," generally sung by a tenor, goes as follows:

Ev'ry valley shall be exhalted,
 and every mountain and hill made low, 
the crooked straight, 
and the rough places plain.

That's it as far as the lyrics are concerned, but the piece actually lasts about three and a half minutes, with theme-and-variation musical repetition giving the singer ample opportunity to display his full range of vocal capabilities.

This, as one commentator put it, is "the change message."  The poor will be elevated and the rich brought down. Those who have not received justice will get it (the crooked made straight) and adequate medical care will be extended to all (the rough places made plain).

In other words, those lyrics, selected for Handel by Charles Jennens from the Biblical book of Isaiah, should be viewed as allegorical. Such is not unusual in Handel's English-language oratorios since it was at the time difficult to deal with prevailing political and social issues directly.

In my humble option, just as "We Shall Overcome" was the anthem of the civil rights movement of the 1960s, "Every Valley" should be the anthem of the present. Not only are the lyrics "spot on," the music is fabulous.

Here's one excellent rendition on YouTube. Listen in.

It's Hard To Cancel Culture When It's The Real Thing

 In the current war by various aggrieved populations against white, Eurocentric culture, one sees in particular a strong desire to "cancel" (as the prevailing idiom goes) anything and everything associated with white males. But it is not so easily done when a particular artifact is, in effect, the real thing.

A case in point is a recent New York Times story entitled "A 'Messiah' for the Multitudes, Freed from History's Bonds." Therein, the Times reports on how a Canadian entity named the Grain Theater in cooperation with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra has put together a version of "Messiah" aimed at celebrating the country's multicultural aspects and in some cases, grievances.

But hey, wait a minute. The music is still that written about 280 years ago by a white male, George Friedrich Handel, a German by birth but English by choice and eventually a British citizen. And for good reason: no one has since ever been able to do anything like it.

"Handel understands effect better than any of us -- when he chooses, he strikes like a thunderbolt." That's an English translation of something Mozart said in German. And Handel's genius in that respect is ever-present in 'Messiah,' written as a secular oratorio despite the fact that it tells the story of Christ.

So the Canadian version referenced above features, among other things, a Muslim woman in a head scarf singing "She (as opposed to 'he' [Jesus]) was despised" to reflect her own family situation. And so forth and so on.

Handel, by the way did not write the words to "Messiah."  Rather, they were assembled from the Bible and the Book of Common prayer by a wealthy, but largely forgotten Englishman named Charles Jennens. So changing them does not in anyway strike a blow at the composer. In this case, it doesn't even strike much of a blow at Jennens. Rather, the soprano mentioned above, Rihab Chaieb, alters some Biblical words she doesn't happen to think are important in order to co-opt Handel's achievement for her own purposes.

"My reinterpretation of the 'Messiah' is about feeling despised and rejected as a first-generation immigrant in Montreal." she told the Times. "But by taking Jesus out of the equation and making it more personal, I have reclaimed the 'Messiah' as my own." In other words, "it's all about me" which is pretty much the mantra of the present.

I suppose she could have written or commissioned new, more politically correct or "woke" music, based on the racial, cultural or sexual status of the composer,  for her sentiments rather than relying on some old white male melody, but one suspects the impact would not be quite the same.

More on Susanna's #Me Too Moment: This Time at BAM

Having recently written about perhaps most most poignant #Me Too moment in the Bible -- well, not in every version of the Bible -- I was interested to read the following story in the May 4, 2019 New York Times: "La Susanna Topples the Patriarchy." (Click on that link if you wish to read the review.)

I wrote about Susanna's story after listening to the streamed version of Handel's oratorio of the same name as performed by Trinity Church's outstanding orchestra and chorus.

In contrast, the Times review cited above concerns a performance of the story by Heartbeat Opera and Opera Lafayette at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM).  It's based on a 1681 work by Alessandro Stradella, but apparently significantly re imagined to enhance it's relevance for a contemporary audience.  Unfortunately, I am not currently in New York and won't be able to see it.

The most significant change is that in the BAM version, the young Daniel (who goes on to become an important Biblical prophet) isn't the person who saves Susanna.  After all, he is a male and having a man save a woman just won't do in the prevailing social climate. This version, according to the review, is about "a young feminist's coming into her own."

Interesting.  There is little in the Biblical version that would suggest Susanna is a feminist.

How does the BAM production stack up as "an evening out?"

"This production is meant to be a lecture. It certainly felt like one," said Joshua Barone at the conclusion of his review.

I think I'll listen to the Trinity Church version again.

Susanna's #MeToo Moment, Brought by Trinity Church

Back in the days of the Babylonian exile -- say around 550 bce -- one Jewish family is doing rather well.  Joacim, a wealthy man and his very attractive wife, Susanna, live in a prominent house with a large garden through which a stream flows and in which large trees grow.

A couple of local elders, who, among other things, help sort out disputes in the community, often carry out their duties  at Joacim's place and have become much taken with Susanna's charms.  Joacim. to carry out his business, has to travel and is sometimes away from home.

Susanna likes to bath in the garden's stream and one day sends her servants inside to find some things she needs for her ablutions.  Driven by lust, we are told, the two elders spot an opportunity, enter the garden and demand that Susanna have sex with them.  If she refuses, they will claim to have caught her committing adultery with a younger man, who then escapes, and have her put to death, Susanna is told.

When it comes to #MeToo moments, it doesn't get much worse: toxic masculinity at the top of the patriarchy.

Susanna, an exceptionally virtuous woman who lives by the laws of Moses, refuses their advances, but with no one else around, knows the community will believe the elders and she will die.

Leaving readers in suspense for the moment, I will pause to note that George Fredric Handel put Susanna's story to music in 1749  -- one of his English language oratorios that were sung, but not acted.  This was after Italian opera had fallen out of favor in London.

The very excellent baroque orchestra and choir of Manhattan's Trinity Church just put on a performance of "Susanna" in three parts, which readers can find here. Clicking on the appropriate links will stream the oratorio, part of an ongoing project by Trinity to perform all of Handel's bible-based oratorios, the most famous being "Messiah."

But back to Babylon.

Susanna is brought to public trial in which the respected elders serve as judges, prosecutors and witnesses. No one defends Susanna.  (Joacim is not specifically mentioned in the Bible as being at the trial although Susanna's children and other family members are.  In Handel's oratorio, he is depicted as hurrying home to his wife whom he believes is innocent, having heard news of the events from afar. "Is fair Susanna false? It ne're can be!" Joacim sings, with great conviction.)

But just as Susanna is condemned to death, a young man named Daniel steps forward and demands to question the elders separately as to what they saw in the garden.  When they tell him different stories -- locating the alleged act of adultery under different trees -- the assembled public sees that they are lying and rather than Susanna, they are put to death.  Just like that.

Daniel goes on to become one of the Bible's most important prophets.

The story of Susanna is a somewhat curious one as biblical scholar Jennifer A Glancy explains in her article "Susanna: Apocrypha." Interested readers can click on that link to discover why.

But what about Trinity Church's "Susanna?"  I HIGHLY recommend it!

Handel the Merciful: His Last Oratorio, "Jephtha"

Despite the fact he never married, or perhaps because of it, no one to my knowledge has ever accused the baroque composer George Frideric Handel of being a misogynist. Quite the contrary, he frequently re-wrote parts of The Messiah so that sopranos in particular and other soloists could appear at their best.

Handel was definitely a "singer's composer."