All the King's Men, 1949/2006

I kind of hate to say it, but the original movie wins. I love looking at Jude Law and Mark Ruffalo (Sean Penn not so much), but the story just wasn’t the same…close, but not quite what I would’ve expected. There would've been no complaints about the chocies for Willy being that neither actor would be what you considered a "pretty boy." Jack on the other hand is a whole different story...both are absolutely eye candy. I have to say that I finished the films thinking of Willy Stark as a model for Francis Ford Coppola’s godfather character. Seeing James Gandolfini as “Duffy” in the newer film definitely helped to make this even more so.

I loved seeing the story evolve in the 1949 version from pre-Willymania to the final moment when he asks "Why?" after being shot, not by Jack, but by Anne's brother! That's right! She has a brother! Lucy and Sadie also each play larger roles in the film version. In the film, the cast is comprised of Willie, Jack, Sadie, Anne, Adam (Anne’s brother), Judge Stanton (uncle to the siblings), Lucy (Willy’s wife), Tom (Willy’s adopted son), Sugar Boy (Wille’s lackey), and Jack’s parents. I think this would’ve been a decent sized cast for Floyd’s opera. I’m not sure why he did away with them. Alongside them would be a huge chorus as Willy’s “hick” following.

The first 45 minutes of the film are dedicated to Willy’s rise to power. He begins by trying to tell the people about the corrupt government, but is quickly arrested and later released (with “apologies”). Jack plays the narrator of the story, sent by his newspaper to have a look at Willy. An idealist, and still green, Willy doesn’t even know it when he’s being used to split the vote in the gubernatorial election. He fails as an orator until he decides to go against Lucy’s wishes and has his first drink. Sadie is sent to him to keep track of his progress and make sure he doesn’t win while at the same time making his bid for governor seem valid. After losing the election Willy says he’s learned how to win. We see Jack and Willy cross paths some time later, and Willy seems to have made some new friends. Willy also uses Jack to get in with society. The second half of the movie follow Willy’s career as governor over an extended period of time, with a few extra details including Willie’s son Tom getting into a drunk driving accident and killing the young girl riding with him. It is Willy’s covering up of this crime that lead to his impeachment proceedings.

One thing I will say was of note between the two screenplays was the soundtrack. The original movie had almost no soundtrack at all besides the music that would be playing on the campaign trail. However, the 2006 version had a fittingly inspiring musical accompaniment provided by James Horner. I can imagine that if Floyd had perhaps decided to expand the opera to include Willy’s entire story, it would’ve left a more lingering impression. I can only imagine what he would’ve done with the drunken speech. I also think it would be interesting to see what he would do with the music itself as Willy fell further and further away from his original intentions.

Made for TV?

After our discussion in class, I went back and re-read the reviews of Willie Stark by both Donald Henahan and John J. O’Connor. It would seem that the two commentators were reviewing completely different performances of the same piece, even though it would seem that they had seen the same production. But did they?

Henahan’s review was based on what he saw sitting in the audience of the Houston Grand Opera while Willie Stark was being performed before his eyes. He had the opportunity to take in the entire production as it was originally presented. O’Connor, on the other hand, reviewed a television broadcast of the production complete with camera panning and close ups that took attention away from the all encompassing “stage-filling flight of steps” and allowed him to focus on the individual performances of the singers and the music.

This would make one question the staging or even perhaps the media for which the opera was produced. An opera created for television would not have been unprecedented, Menotti having already opened the door with Amahl and the Night Visitors for NBC’s Opera Theater. In fact, PBS’s Great Performances series would have been a perfect platform on which to launch the opera.

The discussion also brought to my mind a recent production of Korngold’s Die tote Stadt by New York City Opera. They revived their 1970s production using a scrim in front of the singers on which they projected images. If not for the projections, I don’t think anyone would have really made the connection to the 1970s production (they were VERY dated with hair, makeup, clothes, etc.). Although I can’t be completely certain, I thought the scrim actually impeded some of the sound getting through. That being said, the images projected on the screen revealed characters’ inner thoughts, and even gave the stage itself a bit of a washed out sort of antique look. You didn’t realize exactly how vibrant the costumes were until the scrim came up!

However, I think this style of production might actually have worked very well for Willie Stark. Instead of having the stairs physically on the stage, a projection of them with the doors on the scrim might give them a more metaphorical feel and not feel as imposing to the folks in the audience. I also think it might be an interesting tool to show a character’s inner emotions, or to help bring attention to reactions from other characters to what is being said. There are times when a good close-up on someone listening and reacting to what is going on is wonderfully appropriate in revealing to audience members their opinion on what is going on. With one of the criticisms being the obviousness of Willie Stark’s characters with “villains [who] smoke black cigars,” and “intellectuals [who] wear glasses,” this would be a great change to bring take attention away from the cartoonish nature of it. I can’t help but wonder if Henahan had taken home a CD of the music and listened to it the way some folks did with Antony and Cleopatra, if his opinion might change.

We also brought up the topic during Tuesday’s class of whether or not Willie Stark would work without the music as a straight drama. I'm currently downloading both the original and remake versions of the movie "All the King's Men" (1949 may have been a version Floyd had seen prior to writing his opera). Will discuss on similarities/differences after watching. Yay snow day!

A little tidbit on the tellie...

So, I was watching the news in order to guage the seriousness of impending doom on its way this week.

I was putting on my shoes whilst the advertisements were making their way across my screen. The sound of "Don't wanna be an American idiot...." It would seem that Green Day has made it onto the Great White Way.

Just thought I'd put that out there...

Glass...Father of Trance...

I have to say I wasn't really sure what to expect when I saw Phillip Glass on our syllabus. I had listened to some of his instrumental works during my undergrad 20th Century class, but let's be honest: that class was once a week from 630-930pm and it was hard enough to stay awake already! I could only hear Reich's "It's Gonna Rain" for so long before I completely started to zone out. I'm sorry to say, that it was the same result with Glass.

I don’t know if I have ADD, or if it’s just me being a musical idiot, but I can’t sit still long enough for this stuff to really get to me. I kept catching myself wanting to do other things. I thought, “I can just put this up on the big screen and keep the music playing while I do the dishes…or vacuum…or do laundry…or homework…” it was just too difficult to keep my mind from wandering. Now I will also admit – and I know some of you might want to kill me for this – I fell asleep during a production of Rosenkavalier. Yes, I really did. And…I know. But in my defense, I fell asleep after the presentation and woke up right before the most amazing trio ever. The action was just too slow.

However, that being said…I disagree with a lot of the Glass detractors. I don’t think this is on par with the pet rock. Just because Glass doesn’t do it for me, doesn’t mean someone else won’t be completely floored by his work. I’m just not that person. The music was beautiful, but I think I’m too impatient to want to find those minimal changes that happen now and again. I think that my opinion might change about the work if I were more intimately familiar with it. I’ve performed a lot of music that took time in order to learn to love it for what it was. This seems like it might be one of those pieces.

Porgy & Bess: Affirmative Action for Opera?

So after our chat on Monday, I went over to Grove and Wikipedia and did a little reading on the subject.

The original version of Porgy and Bess was intended as a "folk opera." Gershwin planned it to be his life's work in order to acknowledge the influence of African American music on his own writing style. It was first performed on Broadway with major cuts in order to help the singers make it through the nightly runs. It wasn't until 1976 that the full score would be performed by the Houston Grand Opera. Until then, Porgy and Bess had a really rough road.

First off, both the novel and the “folk opera” were written by white men who were trying to depict the lives of a specific set of people in South Carolina. They were criticized by both Virgil Thomson and Duke Ellington who stated, “the times are here to debunk Gershwin’s lampblack Negroisms.” Many of the cast members had concerns with the characters they were to portray. The Civil Rights and Black Power movements also worked to keep Porgy and Bess off the stages. Actors would refuse to play the parts in film as well.

Ira Gershwin stipulated that only blacks play the lead roles and prevented several all-white productions of the opera from taking place in South Africa. However, in 2009 Cape Town Opera set the story in 1970’s Soweto with a “mostly” black South African cast and toured Britain. Many of the actors in this production actually identified with the characters they portrayed. In an article found here an interview with Xolela Sixaba (Porgy), he states “What is happening here on stage is what really happened in South Africa.” Lisa Daltrius, and American singer who played Bess in the same production says, “I think we’ve got a little jaded in the US with Porgy and Bess. A lot of people just think that this is a show that is lovely to listen to and happened way back when. They’re not thinking that you can still find places where this is real. And if we’re not careful we could be right back there.”

So…I’m thinking after all this reading, “If it’s a folk opera depicting the lives of people who were being oppressed at the time it was written, why can’t it be used as a social message for other groups as well?” If Cape Town Opera can find a way to make it relevant to apartheid era South Africa, why couldn’t anyone else find a way to make it relevant in other places? With other people? I keep thinking, “Ira wanted an all black cast. He insisted upon it. But does that mean he couldn’t be persuaded in changing in his mind if the social message is the same?” The jazz idiom prized so highly by George Gershwin has come a long way and crossed over into so many different people’s lives. We consider it now the only truly “American” music because of its origins. I think a production even with a mixed cast that is brought together because of their social and economical hardships could be just as moving as an all African American cast, if not more so because of the bond that would cross racial boundaries. I think both Gershwins would’ve been surprised had they lived long enough to see Spike Lee’s “Jungle Fever” in 1991, when I remember interracial relationships were still a very hot topic. I think Porgy and Bess has the right to evolve alongside those of Mozart and Puccini that are still staged today because of their timeless stories.

I went through the videos of Antony and Cleopatra that I could find staged on YouTube. Most were of Malfitano and Cowan. I was disappointed not only in the singing, but in the staging and acting. The chemistry between the two of them was nonexistent. It was awkward, and made me feel uncomfortable in a bad way. Danielle put up a brilliant post regarding their acting. I couldn’t agree more. I would’ve expected the scene to look a lot more like this…

I did think Chicago Lyric did a really great job with the staging and scenery. I think it was much closer to the production Sam Barber would have had in mind originally. There were no elephants, or camels, or even horses…and I didn’t miss a single one of them!

The music wasn’t quite what I expected, but from the reviews the revised version received, I had pretty high expectations.

So I tried giving Barber another shot.

I decided instead to look around on YouTube to see if there were any other clips I could find of Leontyne singing the role that was tailor made for her. To my delight I did find a clip with her singing “Give me my robe…” from the opera recorded LIVE. I have to say that after listening to this recording, I might actually give Antony and Cleopatra a try. She was just amazing. However, I think I’ll be hard pressed to find another voice like hers any time soon.

Clash of the TITANS!

So Antony and Cleopatra...a brilliant mismatch of composer and librettist if I ever saw one. Barber by nature, as described by Menotti, was "a very intimate and introverted composer." How then could anyone expect a successful union with the grandiose and bombastic Franco Zeffirelli?
From the beginning, it seemed that Barber would be fighting an uphill battle. First with the choices of subject matter, to then trying to find a librettist while avoiding using Menotti, and finally trying to write his music in such a way that it would stretch to meet Zefferelli's grand scenes.
It's interesting to note Barber’s rejection of the Metropolitan’s subject choices seemed to also reflect his preference for a more intimate, refined story. Antony and Cleopatra, while recalling lavish landscapes and scenery, is still centered upon the relationship between two people who happen to live in the lap of luxury in Rome and Egypt.
As we can see in both the original version versus the revisions, it is when we are pulled away from this powerful story that the opera truly suffers. Zeffirelli wanted to give people a show that would rival one of Louis XIV’s parties at Versailles using all the tricks the new stage would put at his disposal. It seemed that management at the Metropolitan backed his view. They wanted to show the world that they were the premiere opera house by giving the most lavish and grandiose party they could. Instead of going out and commissioning a composer like Barber, whose music would be better suited to a more minimal style of production, they could’ve gone and done what was recently done for Renée Fleming: create a gala event with lavish scenes and costumes from all the operas Leontyne Price had been featured. Barber’s opera should have been moved later into the season and done the way he wanted it done. This way, they could pick some of the most popular titles from the repertory, have a fabulous party, everyone could show off their jewels, and they would all live happily ever after.

2nd post...

so my second post is actually a reply to Olivia's on the fate of musical theater and opera...found here

Candide...revisions...revisions....and more revisions...

So this is my first post for the semester…

I decided to take this class because I really know very little about American opera. I’ve seen a lot of Broadway shows, and focused on a lot of foreign opera, so this seemed like a really good way to bridge the gap.

After all the discussion in the class with different versions and such, I did some research on Candide, and this is what I came up with.

Candide has undergone many transformations since its original edition was presented as a musical comedy in 1956, then became operetta, was performed many times in concert form, and finally is finding a place in opera houses.

The libretto is adapted from Voltaire’s novel of the same name by Lillian Hellman. Rumor had it that she was interested in drawing a parallel between Candide’s blind faith and the rampant paranoia of McCarthyism at the time. Candide, a Westphalian youth who believes fervently in the teaching of his tutor, Pangloss, that everything that happens must be for the best, plunges into travel and experiences an endless series of disasters, including the apparent death of the woman he loves, Cunegonde, and the execution of Pangloss in the Spanish Inquisition. Candide’s travels take him to the New World in the company of an Old Lady and the miraculously saved Cunegonde, to the fabled land of Eldorado, back to Europe surviving a shipwreck and eventually back to Westphalia. Here, Candide finally repudiates Pangloss’s philosophy and resolves to try and build a good, honest life for himself and his companions.

This general description applies to all versions of Candide, although the details vary enormously in the several revisions that were undertaken. Most notable of these is the version staged by Harold Prince in 1973, to a new libretto by Hugh Wheeler (Hellman having withdrawn permission to use her words). Wheeler provided a new selection of scenes, some from Voltaire and others newly invented. Martin, a pessimistic counterpart to Pangloss played by the same actor, disappeared in this version, but in compensation the Pangloss also played Voltaire as narrator, as well as the Latin American Governor. The maid Paquette and Cunegonde’s brother Maximilian, minor parts in the first version, became moderately important in the new one. The zany vaudeville atmosphere and irreverent tone of this production proved far more acceptable to audiences than the statelier format of the original; unfortunately, the score itself suffered severely, with five songs omitted and the rest rescored for a tiny ensemble (some new songs were added as well). A version made for the New York City Opera (and recorded in slightly fuller form in 1986) attempted to restore the missing music from 1956 within Wheeler’s framework. A 1988 Scottish Opera production (supervised, like the previous two editions, by John Mauceri) made in consultation with the composer returned for the most part to Hellman’s sequence of scenes while retaining some of Wheeler’s additions, with revisions in libretto and lyrics by John Wells. A 1989 concert performance conducted by Bernstein in London (and the recording made at that time) used this edition as the ‘final revised version’, the last form of the work to which he gave his approval. To the 1956 score, it adds material from the 1973 edition, music discarded before the initial production, and numbers written for revivals in 1958 and 1971.