Wednesday, March 12, 2008

...thy course pursue

Ok, the last time I wrote an entry about my “process” (here) I spoke about gathering information.

This includes:
• Source material
• Musical resources
• Sometimes videos of other productions
• Images

What next? Well, then I soak in this information, reading the books a couple of times if possible. I listen to the CDs in the car (especially on long distance drives)… and I wait for the “muse” to hit. For this show, there were 2 main elements that helped me focus the piece. Today I will speak a bit about a musical element:

Dido’s Lament

In this, the climactic end of the opera, there is a “ground bass” figure that is 5 measures long. There are, I believe, 13 iterations of this figure. Interestingly, the vocal lines are typically about 4 measures long, meaning they don’t “line up”….until the very end of the piece. This give the aria a feeling of constant unfolding… the ground bass gently but relentlessly pushes Dido to her final destiny. Purcell is a genius, what can I say?

I love love love when the action onstage subtly (or not) reinforces a musical element that might not be immediately obvious to the average listener. So I thought, what if we incorporate a gesture that lasts the length of that ground bass figure… that is picked up by one person after another in the chorus (chorus of 12)… and finally, at the very end by Dido... number 13? I think a large, repetitive motion can be so hypnotic onstage. I love the idea that everyone participates in her mourning…it is almost a funeral ritual, even before she dies.

This is the stuff I get excited about when I am trying to fall asleep at night. Then I have to get up and write it all down before I “lose” it.
This particular section might have gone a lot of different ways….
• Maybe everyone leaves the stage or turns their back to her, leaving her alone in her grief.
• Maybe I could have the witches creep in and hand her the knife.
• Maybe I could have her slowly remove her makeup and clothing, preparing for death.
• Maybe we could enact a really realistic funeral procession.
• Maybe she could stab and kill everyone in her court.

Actually just writing that stuff down kind of sparks ideas in mind. The brain is an amazing thing, eh?

Anyway, so I call up my choreographer Dominic Walsh and explain my idea to him and he loves it. And there is the heart of the piece, fairly settled upon. And this is how it works for me… I put together pieces, big and small, and they begin to form a whole.

Coming up: another big piece to the puzzle…

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Anchises' valour mixt with Venus' charms

The story of Dido and Aeneas is based on a short episode in Virgil's Aeneid. The following is a lovely synopsis of the literary source... of course, the opera varies slightly. (ps. I took this synopsis from a nice little site on the Aeneid. You can find it here.)

In the course of Aeneas' wanderings around the Mediterranean before he arrived in Italy, he landed at Carthage on the shores of North Africa. There he fell in love with the Carthaginian queen, Dido. The story of the love affair between Aeneas and Dido is one of the most moving and poignant books in The Aeneid and earned for Virgil the epithet 'the worlds poet of sorrow'.

Dido was by birth a Phoenician from the city of Tyre. Forced to flee her homeland after the murder of her husband, she was completing the building of a new city at Carthage when Aeneas and his men were washed ashore. She received them lavishly, and almost at once fell deeply in love with Aeneas. Encouraged by her sister, Anna, she began to accept her desire for Aeneas and to hope for marriage.

One day when she and Aeneas were on a hunting trip together, a storm blew up, and they found themselves sheltering alone in a cave. While the storm raged they made love. From then on, they lived together as man and wife, and Aeneas behaved almost as if he were king of Carthage.
When the messenger of the Gods came to remind Aeneas of his duty to found a new Troy in Italy, Aeneas decided that he must leave his beloved and continue on his journey. Dido soon discovered what his intentions were, and confronted him with his treachery. Though himself deeply upset, Aeneas could only plead that the gods had compelled him, and begged Dido not to make their parting doubly difficult.

In despair, Dido resolved on death. She built a vast funeral pyre for herself, pretending it was for a magical rite to bring Aeneas back, or at least to cure her love. After a sleepless night she rose to sea Aeneas' ship already at sea. Cursing him and praying for everlasting enmity between Carthage and Aeneas' descendants, she climbed the pyre and , taking her lovers sword, mortally stabbed herself.

The book is dominated by a series of passionate speeches by Dido, of reproach, entreaty, bitterness and curses. Aeneas speaks only once and that to quote his duty. There is nothing else he can say. He leaves Dido but looks shabby as he steals off into the night.

Aeneas did not escape Dido entirely. On his visit to the underworld he met her ghost and attempted once more to justify his conduct. But Dido would not speak with him, and slunk away to be with the ghost of her husband 'who answered her cares and matched her love'. This is the only happy marriage we see in The Aeneid; and it is amongst the dead. Aeneas is left in no doubt that he destroyed Dido.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Your counsel all is urged in vain

Still in tech for Tosca (decidedly different than the Dido!) but have something interesting to offer today: there is a minor maelstrom in blog world regarding "Historically Informed Production"

An interesting article from Yugen of American Opera Theatre entitled "Baroque and Authenticity":
For various reason I think "authenticity" is rather like a phantom. It is something that gets a lot of hype and belief, but it doesn't really exist. That isn't just because there is so little historic truth about performance practice we can know for certain (most of what has become accepted as "baroque performance practice" is actually not so clear cut when one looks at the sources). No, authenticity doesn't exist because the whole notion of authenticity, the primacy of the composer and his epoch's "intentions", is completely a modern concern, one that would not have concerned the 17th or 18th century musician.

Read the entire article here.

Brian Dickie of Chicago Opera Theater
weighs in as well:
So please let us not get so stressed out with the idea of "authenticity". Its all about the music making please...
Full article here

And what is my humble opinion?
I am thrilled to be working in a craft that offers so many opportunities for creative expression. It is exciting to live in Houston where there are so many groups striving to recreate period sounds and "rediscover" old works. And it is wonderful to me that they might be presented in a more traditional way, but that there is room for exploration of uncharted waters, too. I love that my production of Dido will feature modern dance. I would love to do a "traditional" Dido sometime too but I couldn't be happier with the way our version is shaping up. For me it is about uncovering the emotional truth of the piece. If that means a lavish costumes, realistic set and Historically Informed gesture and dance, GREAT, but for me, it is not essential. There is such a strong emotional throughline in Dido (and delivered in such a beautiful musical package), I believe it stands well regardless of the packaging.
I hope you will agree in May!