Apr 27, 2008 13:03
So call me silly, but I am still reeling a little from this microphone thingie. I know, I should get over it, no cats were killed in the process. But really, its getting to the point now that we cant really experiment anymore. The art form is too unstable to get too cute with it. Its like introducing a third party in the bedroom when your relationship is in trouble. You can only have a 3some when everything is 100% perfect, otherwise it brings out all the cracks in the armor. We're raising a generation that is not just forgetting, but really not knowing what the artform is all about, and just like when Jean Pierre asked me 5 years ago "Kathleen Battle sang Susannah? I didnt know she sang mezzo roles" (since he saw Bartoli do it...hence it leads to this sort of confusion, and he's well informed as it is.) There's going to be a point when people dont have an understanding of what it an experiment and what the real thing is.
Which again leads to me question whether I myself know what is up. Is our golden age (the 10s, the 50s, the 70s) even come close to the original intension of the works. Milanov is a dead fly onstage next to callas, but callas is stoic next to scotto, and scotto is quite unathletic next to dessay, and dessay will be fat next to Kate Mossserina of the future. And we will all look at the Munich productions as old fashioned. Really, just look at the Chereau Bayreuth ring. Or even the Wieland Wagner production. They were spat at when they premiered, but now, theyre pretty much old school, even boring now. Hindsight is becoming 20/14, and I find myself saying "sure that was crap, but I survived it and I heard 3 notes I liked/Bravo!" and now I am feeling that things are basically sneaking by me. The management reads sad enthusiasm as success and the will of the people, and strange decisions are made to interpret modernity. I basically see Dessay's characterization and ability to adjust to the director's desires very professional, but what is that have to do with acting a part? If the Amelia in Un Ballo is asked by the director to vomit on her breasts and feed it to the Ulrica, and the singer does it, kudos to the singer for being able to accomplish this, but what does it have to do with the piece? So hence, how does that make anyone a great actor/actress if there's no relation to the work at hand? But its accepted and put forth, the dynamics change, and perhaps not for the better. What dish as we dealing with here, and why arent we cooking it correctly.
My biggest question, and really this is a post from me, to me, in self analysis...Why is modernity absurd? Why are we in a big modern oversized kitchen in order to convince today's audience that we're in the witch's lair? How does this make more sense to anyone? Should the art form convert itself to the view of what the powers that be feel we want? Frankly: why is this new/expensive dimension, being attend to an artform? And really, why is opera virtually the only art form suffering from this? I see some things in ballet too that make me raise an eyebrow or two. this lack of faith in the work, this need to change something to update/to bring to life because it surely cant be done today...because we surely could not believe today, understand today, get excited about today. Its a running commentary about who is putting the show/who is running the show/what the show is, and how I should feel about it. If you dont believe in it, and you're staging it, then I automatically cant accept it either.
Finally, the idea here is that opera in its natural state is flawed, and that it should change. So it is, from the get go, defeated. No one likes a weak thing, and so it will die. In its ipod filled splendor, on a HD live feed, I saw a lot die and some still survive. But how the weak thing was exhaulted, so it was encouraged, and accepted as progress. Perhaps it dies a little for me and this strange thing reawakens in some. In the end, I must appreciate the appreciation of beauty by anyone. A pig is a beautiful pig when it notices the greatness of its landscape before it goes back to munching on garbage, even if the landscape is a photo and the pig lives in a small cage. And alas, the new people will get to know this as art, recognize it as no big deal, and continue with life. Until then, its me and my new Roland Hayes CD. which of course its not the real deal because its some piece of plastic of the original pressings, and I am sure much is lost.
But I look at my landscape and rejoice of the little I have. Oh so little.