La Monnaie Parsifal | Mail Call

An email exchange I am honored to share, from a recent attendee of this Parsifal in Brussels…

Dear Andrew,
You don’t know me but after reading your blog “Dear Mr. Richards” sounds a bit silly. I went to see Parsifal. It was an overwhelming experience. I’ve been a Wagner fan for so many years but Parsifal is the one I couldn’t get into. Now, in between the moments of intense emotions, sometimes of tears, I also had lucid moments in which I knew: “Now I get it. I finally get it.” (cont…)

I started reading your Parsifal blog many weeks ago, and never before I’ve lived up so much to the big moment, never before I felt so personally involved. I was getting worried after a while so I tried to downsize my expectations but then you came with another post… 

Your singing was … subtle and human and we all felt how much you (all of you) lived it. I was worried when reading that Romeo Castellucci encouraged you not to act (seen too many terrible productions with directors who only care about the scenery and leave their singers hanging around), but of course this was not “not acting”, this was great acting, only in a very subtle, personal, true way. 

The crazy thing is that this very daring, almost provocative production brings out all that is essential to this work. It feels like it’s impossible to delve any deeper. And because this is Wagner, what you find is nothing less than essential things about life and being human. I knew that about the Ring and Tristan, I know it now about Parsifal. 

Every couple of years (only), there’s an opera production that is not only the superb realisation of the work, that doesn’t only prove that opera is alive and well, but also proves that opera is necessary, that opera can say things no other medium can. The original Doctor Atomic did that for me, as did the Carsen Ring. This is such a production and you guided me through it. 

Thanks again,
Clem Robyns

Dear Clem. You can't believe how gratifying it is to read this. I pour my soul into the (sometimes silly) blog and to know that it has been instrumental is a great pleasure. As you can see I've chosen to take a different tact with it…I just see that people really want to get a clearer look behind the scenes, both on stage and mentally. The word transparency is bandied about a lot these days, and well, I guess I believe in it. Its a simple extension of what I like and work toward in music making. Its certainly a challenge, but the challenge is worth it. 

The other challenge is Mystery. How does one pique peoples' interests and not say so much that all the proverbial presents are unwrapped under the tree? I guess you've answered that. The answer is the piece itself. A great production can never be destroyed or robbed of its power if we go to it willingly and informed. And most importantly no amount of description can undermine Wagner's genius. …

Question to you, would you be willing to allow me to share your letter … on my blog…the perfect kind of testimonial I think would be important for people to think over. Not to pat myself on the back, but more directed toward Artistic Administrations who worry (as Monnaie did) about a blogger sharing the sanctum sanctorum behind the curtain. 

Please let me know what you would allow. Thank you so much.

Andrew

Hi Andrew,
Of course you’re more than welcome to do anything with my mail you like … When you see an opera production for the first time, it’s massively “there”, all at once. If you take it seriously, you risk to lose yourself completely in frantically trying to understand what seems like dozens of separate elements. Why the dog? Why do the Mädchen have guns? Why are some people in the third act lifted on the shoulders of others? Of course, this is not the most interesting way to watch a production. But you do this dissecting because understanding the whole right away when you see it for the first time is impossible. And program books don’t help. They’re either trivial or…hopelessly intellectualistic. 

What you do, is “dissecting” the production over time by showing how it became this massive final result. You give us loose elements, little teasers, but you integrate them into a narrative. And the narrative is one of struggle and seeking and often of having fun. So when I go to the theater, I have a general feeling of what is going to happen. The program book (should I ever read it before seeing the show) gives me abstract analysis, you give me a very tangible feeling. But since your narrative is not the narrative of the opera or the production, you can’t possibly reveal anything that should be kept as a surprise. You tell me there will be a snake, and 200 extra’s, but you don’t reveal how exactly they fit into (this) parsifal. So you don’t reveal, you tease and you create an emotional bond. And it works. You shouldn’t have to convince Artistic Administrations…

I think we share a fundamental conviction … We both find opera, and meaningful opera production, incredibly important. We both think that they’re not just a good show, but that they can “do” something to you. If that’s the case, then you good people behind the production owe it to your audience to give them every possible insight, every possible hook to have this experience as completely as possible. And of course you should do that before. Almost nobody sees a production twice, we need to be prepared for this experience before, not after…
… 

Cheers,
Clem

Pardon me while I have a bit of a girly moment and wipe the tear from my eye. I don't know which is more gratifying; receiving letters like this, or taking a curtain call. Pardon me if I extend tonight's curtain call a little longer for having shared this:

Thank you all for your supportive comments, emails and wonderful gestures. Brussels is an extraordinary place.