Chapter 13. The Problem with Opera

 

Before I proceed to the final chapter on contemporary composers. I digress to a discussion of opera, which for composers has been a seductive, often lucrative, but risky activity. Composers who focused primarily in opera, as a whole have not fared as well in our rankings as have composers with a more diverse output. I will explore the reasons for this.

Opera is one of the oldest continuous genres of classical music, and so its history reflects much of what has already been said throughout these essays. Officially born in the year 1597, during the transition from the Renaissance to the Baroque, it arose from earlier combinations of stage play and music that have been with us since antiquity. Opera grew up during the Baroque, was perfected (by Mozart, of course) during the Classical Period, diversified during the Romantic era, and was subjected to great experimentation in the modern era. It was the ultimate entertainment extravaganza for much of its four-century history.

It is the theatrical side of opera, to which the music is subservient, that makes opera different, more difficult, and more of a gamble for a composer. It is much more complicated and costly to produce an opera than to assemble a group of musicians for a symphony. For an opera, there are not only the singers and the orchestra, but also dancers, costumes, sets, lighting, staging, dramatic action, and sometimes even elephants - not to mention financial backers, impresarios, theater owners, boards of directors, season ticket holders, demanding divas, local media critics, government and church censors, and error-prone copyists - all making their own demands on the music. Opera scores frequently had to be altered, cut, and fragmented to satisfy all these demands.

Once written, getting an opera produced was a constant headache even for successful composers, and for an unproven young composer, it was extraordinarily difficult to get a foot in the door. No wonder so many composers did not succeed!  No wonder that Rossini retired from writing opera at the age of 38, and  even Verdi interrupted his work a number of times for long retreats to his country estate. 

Opera is thus an artform in which the music can be heavily compromised. By contrast, symphonies, concertos, string quartets and other "pure" forms of music represent the unadulterated creativity of the composers and generally lead to more respect and higher ranking. Chopin may have had more common sense than any of the great composers, having written no operas and few works for orchestra. All he had to do was show up and play the piano!

Many composers made a living out of opera during their lifetime, but only a few – a very few – are heard regularly in opera houses today, and even fewer score highly in our lists of great composers. Because opera companies have always been limited financially, and because they can produce a relatively small number of operas each year, they face the ever-present dilemma between sticking with the old favorites or risking the introduction of something new or something long forgotten, regardless of how good it is. In terms of immortality, therefore, writing operas was a mostly losing gamble.

The most successful - Mozart, Wagner, Rossini, Donizetti, Verdi, Tchaikovsky, and Puccini, are represented by multiple operas in the repertoire worldwide, and are highly regarded in top composer lists. There were others who were successful in their time, but escaped obscurity with just one or two hits that remain in the repertoire today: Ponchielli (La Gioconda), Humperdinck (Hansel and Gretel), Nicolai (Merry Wives of Windsor), Massenet (Manon, Werther), Offenbach (Tales of Hoffman), Leoncavallo (Il Pagliacci), Mascagni (Cavalleria Rusticana), Flotow (Martha), Delibes (Lakme), Debussy (Pelleas and Melisande) and Gounod (Faust). 

The operas of Hector Berlioz (Benvenuto Cellini, Les Troyens, Béatrice et Bénédict), long overlooked, are only now becoming recognized as works of great genius. Georges Bizet had a unique and tragic story. His Carmen is one of the most popular operas of all time, but he died soon after completing it at the age of 36.

Berlioz - Royal Hunt And Storm from Les Troyens (One of my favorite pieces. Listen all the way through!)

But for every one of these known quantities, there are dozens whose operas are largely forgotten. How many operas have you heard by Paisiello, Spontini, Marschner, or Pfitzner? These guys, like Salieri, were successful in their time. Like the writers of TV sitcoms today, they provided the entertainment of the day, but their works were quickly forgotten.

There are great composers who might have similarly been forgotten if they had only written operas. How many operas have you heard by Vivaldi, Handel, Haydn, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Schumann, or Liszt? They all wrote operas that collected dust for many years, but they had the good sense to write other kinds of music as well, great music indeed, for which they achieved high rankings in the consensus list. Beethoven, for better or worse, never got around to writing another opera after his one and only, Fidelio.  If he had been further seduced by the theater we might have ended up with a string of great operas from him, but likely would have missed out on some of the greatest symphonies, piano concertos, and string quartets ever written. The same could be said about Debussy’s Pelleas and Melisande – not high on the list of popularity, but a revolutionary work filled with music of great genius. Those who didn’t bother to even try to write operas, like Brahms or Mahler, were probably better off for the decision. 

        Felix Mendelssohn - Die Hochzeit des Camacho (1825) - his long neglected opera (see the article by Colin Eatock (D20)

Of all the great composers, only Mozart and Tchaikovsky left a legacy of durable operas as well as an extensive catalogue of symphonies, concertos, and heaps of other great music. In this light, the achievements of Mozart are most remarkable. He truly did everything well. At least three of his many operas are cited among the best ever written: Don Giovanni, the Marriage of Figaro, and the Magic Flute. They are the oldest permanent members of the standard repertoire. 200 years after being written, they are as popular as ever. Tchaikovsky was equally versatile, though his operas, outside of eastern Europe at least, are not as popular as Mozart’s.

 Opera is a genre close to my own heart, though in a way that some will find odd or even absurd. As a youth, I heard opera on the radio or on records, with little idea of what the story was about, and even less of what was being said, usually in a foreign language, at any moment. I rarely had the opportunity to see a live performance, and few operas had been filmed at that time. I listened to opera as music, without the distraction of the story, words, or stage action.  That gave me a unique, if warped, lens with which to appreciate the grandest of classical spectacles. Human voices were just more musical instruments. It is no wonder then that I was initially attracted to Wagner, in which the orchestra dominates.

 It is likely also that it was his orchestral writing that granted Wagner a spot in the upper 10 of our consensus list, more than his words, story, or stage action. His high ranking is not likely coming mainly from his dedicated fans who are willing to spend 4-6 hours in an opera house (there are many to be sure), but from the popularity of the many overtures, preludes, and other extracts from his operas in concerts and on the radio.  I have counted at least 18 orchestral excerpts, spanning the full spectrum of his work, that have held their own as concert and radio fare, including most famously a depiction of lady warriors riding horses through the sky (the Ride of the Valkyries) - for the average music consumer the latter works better in concert than on the stage!

Richard Wagner - the Ride of the Valkyries

Tchaikovsky had a great respect for Wagner’s ability as a composer, if not for his operas per se, and articulated the love/hate sentiment about Wagner that existed in the 19th Century and to some extent still today:

 "But according to my deep and unalterable conviction, he was a genius who followed a wrong path. Wagner was a great symphonist, but not a composer of opera. Instead of devoting his life to the musical illustration of German mythological characters in the form of opera, had this extraordinary man written symphonies, we should, perhaps, possess masterpieces of that order, worthy rivals to the immortal ones of Beethoven." (from an essay written in 1891.)

It didn't help, I suppose, that Wagner was  "an anti-Semitic, egomaniacal jerk," in the words of  music critic Anthony Tomassini (B4), who ranked Verdi above him for this sole reason. Many great geniuses had unpleasant personalities, and some listeners and critics have difficulties overlooking such things when evaluating their art. To this day, even to suggest playing Wagner in Israel stirs up emotional controversy. 

Verdi’s operas are arguably more popular (and endurable) than Wagner's, but they contain fewer extractable orchestral bits, and he finishes in the second-10 of our consensus list. That, however, may be a greater achievement than Wagner's, for he is appreciated for the appeal of his operas as whole entities. The high regard for his music is for his ability to perfectly capture the essence of human personality, drama, and relationships. In Verdi, the music is continuous (no half-sung or spoken recitative), though still retaining conventional arias, duets, and ensembles, but the latter are enthralling musically. So as an operatic specialist, his relatively high position among general rankers is exceptional.

 Wagner, who ultimately took complete control over all aspects of his productions, was indeed long-winded, and one has to have considerable fortitude to sit through Tristan or Parsifal. His Ring of the Nibelung, divided into four parts, is more than 16 hours long! In order that the audience does not forget any of the important points of the story, each episode includes recapitulations of previous episodes, back stories, philosophical and moral debates and sermons, and panel discussions throughout. It is indeed exhausting, but for me well worth the effort. I’ve heard it quipped that Wagner could have used a good editor. Though at times in the middle of one of his marathons, I might have been inclined to agree, I would not presume to suggest any cuts. I would say that even for the longest segment of the Ring, Götterdammerung. One might be tempted to cut out the warm-up scene of the three Norns, but the music is too good even in that static symposium. Once into the main drama, there is nary a dull moment. As the fictitious Mozart might have said, “there are just as many notes, Majesty, as are required. Neither more, nor less.” Mozart supposedly made that remark when the Emperor Joseph II of Austria complained that there were too many notes in his Abduction from the Seraglio.

While Wagner took his role as creative artist very seriously, Gioachino Rossini falls at the other end of the spectrum. For him opera was a commercial commodity and he was a businessman. He was willing to bend with the demands of the opera industry and was quite successful. The famous “Code Rossini” refers to the fill-in-the-blank nature of his composition technique, which enabled him to grind out one opera after another with great speed. The overtures themselves had little to do with the content of the opera and were essentially interchangeable. The overture to the Barber of Seville, was in fact recycled intact from an earlier unsuccessful opera. Did he ever think much about his legacy as an artist? Certainly not as much as Wagner!

But Rossini was a brilliant composer, nevertheless. It almost seems, that he deliberately set out to “out-note” Mozart. Has anyone ever counted the notes in his Barber of Seville? I have not, but just listen to Figaro’s famous aria, Largo al factotum, particularly the last minute, and see if you can count the notes. It’s a tongue-twisting, break-neck, aria with a patter song-like finale, and arguably the greatest aria for baritone ever written. Gilbert and Sullivan, incidentally, capitalized on this patter technique in their operettas well after it was passé in grand opera. Their greatest hit of this sort was probably the  Modern Major General song from the Pirates of Penzance.

Rossini - Largo al factotum

Gilbert and Sullivan - Modern Major General

 Vocal gymnastics, like those of Figaro, or like those in arias for coloratura (highly ornamented) soprano (like Una voce poco fa), and the marvelous, frenetic ensembles, like the one in the Finale of L'Italiana in Algeri, are still crowd pleasers and great fun, even for those of us weaned on Wagner or Verdi. The overtures, like the one from L'italiana in Algeri, are marvelous, entertaining bits (with lots of notes!) that stand alone in concerts. In my opinion, Rossini's William Tell Overture, overplayed as it is, is a musical masterpiece.

        Rossini - Una voce poco fa

        Finale of L'Italiana in Algeri

        L'italiana in Algeri overture

Unlike Wagner, the music in a Rossini opera, or in one by Mozart, for that matter, is constantly interrupted by tedious little sections of dialogue called recitative. For those who insist on following the story, the recitative is where the storyline progresses, and so is essential. Arias, ensembles, choruses, etc. tend to bring the action to a temporary halt, but musically are the highlights of the event. So when listening to an opera like that, I admit to skipping through the recitative in search of musical gems.  And so, ignoring the story, one can piece together nice assemblages of music. (My apologies to genuine opera connoisseurs.) Paradoxically, I enjoy Rossini almost as much as Wagner or Verdi. There is no right or wrong in music. Genius can be expressed in very different styles.

For many opera-goers, perhaps most, the story does indeed matter. For that reason,

Bizet’s Carmen might be described as the operatic “perfect storm,” combining a fresh, catchy musical style with the kind of plot that opera lovers love: A stupid tenor abandons a virtuous soprano to fall in love with a slutty mezzosoprano; the stupid tenor ruins his life for the slutty mezzosoprano, but loses her anyway; stupid tenor goes beserk and kills slutty mezzosoprano. 

That’s what we call a tragic opera. In a comic opera, the stupid tenor would have come back to the virtuous soprano in the end and lived happily ever after. (Stupid tenors, it seems, are stock elements in most operas. Singing all those high notes evidently is not good for the brain!)

Many successful later operas, particularly of the verismo period, including those of Puccini, have variations on the Carmen  plot. There is no slutty mezzosoprano in La Boheme or Madame Butterfly (Pinkerton's wife never sings), but still a stupid tenor. One way or another, the lead soprano must endure considerable suffering. In Turandot (1926), Puccini’s last opera, the stupid tenor gives up the virtuous girl from his hometown to pursue the icy and cruel Chinese princess. But instead of ruining his life and killing the princess, he ends up marrying her because he was able to solve her three riddles. I don't know if this is a tragedy or a comedy! Either way, a virtuous soprano suffers. Nevertheless, Turandot is one of my favorite operas for its superb, rich, innovative, music that has a 5-tone Chinese touch to it. BTW, one of the arias, Nessun Dorma, is often found on albums of tenor’s favorites, and may be the only music known by many listeners from this great opera.

Incidentally, the most popular of Wagner's operas is Die Walkure, part 2 of the Ring cycle. What does the stupid tenor do here? Oh my!  Siegmund falls in love with his twin sister, Sieglinde, impregnates her, and is killed by her husband with the help of Wotan, who is forced to do so at the insistence of his wife, Fricka, who disapproves of the whole situation. Wotan’s daughter, Brunnhilde (herself born from Wotan's fling with a different goddess), then defies her father, first trying to save Siegmund, and then by rescuing the pregnant Sieglinde, for which Wotan banishes her to a rock surrounded by fire. In the next two operas of the ring series, Brunnhilde is rescued by the incestuous pair’s love child, Siegfried, becomes his lover and jumps into his funeral pyre after he is killed. Oh, and did I mention that  Siegmund and Sieglinde were also fathered by Wotan? Fricka was totally pissed off by the whole thing, A little twisted perhaps, but pretty high on the Carmen scale.

That might be a clue to the lesser popularity of Beethoven’s single opera, Fidelio. The plot goes like this:  virtuous soprano breaks her husband out of jail and they go home. That’s it? That’s not opera! We listen to Fidelio, not for the heart-grabbing drama, but for the music of Beethoven, which never disappoints. In fact, with so little to do, the opera is a bit short  so opera productions often insert one of his alternate “Leonora” overtures before the final scene. That gives me a wild idea:  if it’s still too short, why not put a piano in Florestan’s jail cell and have him perform a sonata or two before his wife gets there! All kidding aside, Carmen has been performed over 1000 times at the Met. Fidelio has been performed only 237 times. The story matters.

I have already described the unfortunate career of Ruggero Leoncavallo in Chapter 10, particularly concerning his ill-timed opera, La Boheme, and the overshadowing of his legacy by Puccini. His opera Il Pagliacci was the first of eleven operas, and ironically the only one to be performed frequently today. And is it performed! It has been performed 738 time at NewYork's Metropolitan Opera. more times than  any by Wagner or Mozart. The story is Carmenesque with a tenor who ends up killing his wife. The signature aria, Vesti la Giubba, is possibly the most famous tenor aria ever written.  It has been recorded by virtually every great tenor since recording began.

 Several other opera composers known for one or two great hits are Gounod (Faust), Mascagni (Cavallaria Rusticana),  and Jacques Offenbach (Tales of Hoffmann). Some are known for a single aria. On the same album that each great tenor sings Vesti la Giubba, for example, you’ll likely also find  the aria M'Appari’ from the seldom performed opera Martha by Friedrich von Flotow. In the case of Ponchielli, it is a single ballet sequence. There are a number of such composers in the second 100 and beyond.

        Flowtow - M'Appari’ 

So opera as classical music is often artistically compromised and economically limited in performance  opportunity. The story sometimes matters more than the music. Opera composers who succeeded, not only in their own time, but also in terms of repertoire permanence, are worshipped. Those who did not, unless they had a good symphony or two up their sleeve, have been forgotten.

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