Conflict

As always happens, a little rain falls in an otherwise pleasant day. I had one of those this week, catching a bit of flak for "playing it safe." We are all now very comfortable around each other, learning each other's styles and work habits. It's interesting for us to monitor our efforts and not get ourselves in a hole we can't get out of. Normal stuff. I'd say Stephen, Christiane and myself have each lost a few kilos just from sweating so much.


In regie like this, which is extremely active and energetic, there is the constant conflict with ourselves in what we are trying to accomplish. We have Bieito's vision and the specific acting style he seeks, and then as classical singers do what we can to incorporate all of that into the musical language of Wagner. 


Think about it a moment: The drama of Wagner's music happens in slow motion quite often. Not only is the conversation slower than real time (the opposite of recitative), his own style is based on stretching time to the maximum degree, which is what make the payoff so incredible. Out loud, say "I don't know" over the span of 7 seconds. Now say it cavalierly over the same time frame. Or say it non-chalantly. Now place it to intense music which demands it be sung with a different intent, say, energetically, but still over the same timeframe. So now you have conflict. A re-imagining of a specific line: The musical subtext being one thing. The dramatic direction being another. Conflict.


Often in staging rehearsals over the past few years I've heard a specific stage direction that  introduces an unsual way of doing a scene: "Go against the music." 


Watch this:



Now watch it again and imagine Callas being given the following stage directions:
1. Play Tosca as an atheist. God is dead to her.
2. Tosca is self-loathing. She enjoys being mistreated. She hates herself so much that she enjoys this situation. All of this is joy to her. 


Imagine Callas' conflict of playing that scene that way. That is a very common conflict today given a singer. Your body and musical instinct wants to respond to the music, and the stage direction contrasts it. When was the last time you actually heard the overture to Rossini's William Tell and didn't imagine yourself wearing a mask on a horse or at least feel a smile come over your face for how joyful the "Long Ranger Theme" is? That's what I mean when I say of bodily response. The feelings the music provides seem inevitable.


(Which reminds me as a young artist I sang Spoletta in a presentation done by Jonathan Miller who decided in this same scene demonstration he would make Scarpia a foot fetishist. He loved Tosca's feet so much that THAT made his do all his heinous misdeeds. I thought it stank... I secretly wonder when it will occur to those who tell singers to "go against the music" that that is to say "Be anti musical." Ergo, be unmusical. Last time I checked I was actually a musician.)


Cannibalism aside, I think Calixto is onto something in how he is seeking these conflicts. There is a brutality to the regie that I find somehow exciting in Act One. Milling is masterful in keeping his musical lines flowing all the while beating someone to death. Not an easy thing to accomplish, brutality juxtaposed with musical serenity. We haven't staged the latter portion of Act 2 yet, but I'll be interested to see how we stage the "Amfortas, die Wunde" music...its my biggest sing so I'll still be careful for a while in doing only what I know I can accomplish. Since so much is still unknown, this rep being so new to me, I predict there is more conflict a-comin' as we wrestle with that particular question.


It's a huge challenge physically to sustain a legato over running across a stage, for sure. But it's an even greater challenge to care for yourself under such intensity. If there was one word I'd use to describe the style of theater its "Intense." 


Unfortunately, its the latter part of the word "Intense" that bothers me. Definitely a challenge to sing healthfully and not allow tension to slowly creep in and create problems. Thus I take it easy vocally during rehearsals, marking a lot until my feet know where to go, how my body will feel moving from point A to point B, how my breath is affected by this or that layered on emotion. Then I begin to sew it all together until hopefully I get to a point where all the parts work together in a balanced way. Without balance ballet dancers don't go on point. So it is with opera singers, without balance the extreme ends of the voice don't function, at least for very long. 


I think of it this way: You don't play rock n roll with a Stradivarius very long if you want it to retain its value. Pure and simple, a singers' livelihood is based on his or her ability to withstand from week to week the rigors of all the different parts of what it is we do. I suppose if I didn't need to worry about the quality of my voice, if singing opera were as simple as speaking, then I wouldn't be so cautious. But since my family's livelihood is based on me bringing home the bacon this month and 5 months from now, I'll continue to protect what I've worked on so hard. I trust the methodical work I've done, and methodical it will remain. But you can bet yer boots it won't be boring and un-energetic on opening night! 


On a positive note, I have finished coaching all three acts now with Maestro Honeck. Tip of the iceberg. This is a role that presents a lifetime of challenge musically. But what an incredible beginning to the role. I am blessed to be surrounded by ALL these people who demand so much of me. We had our first rehearsal onstage yesterday and I couldn't mark. I had to sing in that house. It's a fantastic acoustic and it felt like I could loosen the reins a bit and let it rip. Ol' Wagner and me look like we might be friends....