THE ROAD FOR YOUNG SINGERS?

For the past several years I have judged a contest for emerging opera singers. As such I receive between 30 to 40 bios and cds from young singers eagerly seeking careers. After reading through their bios I am consistently amazed at how much time, expense and effort have already gone into their development. Many of these young singers list an impressive number of roles and performances, complete with reviews (does anyone ever include a”so-so” review in a bio?) they have to their credit. Many of the applicants are even under management. But the fact of the matter is that although all of the finalists have decent voices and tremendous resolve, very few have the technique or knowledge necessary to begin the arduous path to a major career.

Anyone who has read any of my blogs knows that I am deeply concerned that the art of opera singing, as we have known it, is almost a thing of the past. And my involvement with these young singers, who are after all opera’s future, convinces me even more of this dismal reality.

Several things seem to be a constant in the vast majority of bios I read: many voice teachers, even more “master classes”, and multiple “young artists” programs.

I understand having more than one teacher in the course of a career. And I do strongly believe that singers should continue to work with a teacher throughout their professional careers. Indeed, pro athletes still have coaches watching how they perform and helping them make transitions as they and their muscles age. I would often run into opera singers well in to major careers ( Martina Arroyo, Grace Bombay, Sharon Sweet, Florence Quiver and Diane Soviero, for example ) when I would go to my lessons with my teacher, Marina Gurevich. But the fact that these young singers already list at least three to as many as five or more teachers is shocking. I do not understand how one can get a consistent technique flitting from one teacher to the other. The reality for young singers, unfortunately, is that there are many, many more bad teachers than good ones.
And because of the way muscles remember what they are trained to do, it is far more difficult to correct bad technique than it is to learn it from scratch.

Master classes are fine and can, and should be, very helpful. But for it to be advantageous, a singer should have his or her technique well established, and the person administering the class must have some real insight that they can transmit to the singer. It also helps if the person teaching the class really cares about what he or she is doing, and not just filling time and making some extra cash and/or selling a few cds. On many occasions after sitting through a master class, I would ask one of the young participants what they learned from the class, and they would say “nothing much, my teacher wanted me to do it, but it didn’t make much sense to me”. Even if the person giving the class has great insight, the singer must be able to digest the material and make it work for them. Just listing all the master classes one has been involved in is of little merit on it’s own.

Young artists programs are the most difficult to discuss, and perhaps trouble me the most, because on the surface they are a great concept; a place where a young singer can get a taste for doing real productions in a sheltered and nurturing environment. And even better, they are connected in most cases to major opera companies. Sounds good, right? And in fact, there are young artists programs that are well run and well-worth a singer’s time and effort. But there can be real problems if the singer is not ready for the program or the program is not well run and does not have the young artists needs at the forefront.

I must restate, that I believe opera is about great singing and musicality; not about acting and cute staging. However, most young artists programs do not work on vocal production,(remember, most of the singers have voice teachers back home) but rather about putting on fully staged performances. In most cases the stage directors go out of their way to present novel approaches to established repertoire. The irony here is why should young singers have to learn new avant-garde staging of classic operas, when they have never performed the opera with a standard staging? But more importantly, if they don’t have their vocal technique in order, and their teacher is not overseeing them, then trying to sing opera, (which requires a solid technique just to sing the notes alone) with orchestra and staging can, in fact, be vocally damaging.

Learning good technique for a singer is a more difficult task than one thinks because from the instant of birth babies vocalize. We may have to learn languages and melodies to songs, but usually we don’t have to learn how to speak or sing. The fact that people learn to speak on their own means that their muscles have learned how to react to be able to make each unique sound. But the singer needs to change the way that he or she speaks and sings to sustain an operatic career. Clearly this can be done, but it takes time and one must make the muscles of vocalization not only learn a new technique but forget the old. Unfortunately, muscles have a great memory but are not quick learners. My point here (and I usually have one, although it may take some time to realize it) is that when a young singer has a performance to get through, with stage business and a conductor to keep happy, there can be a lot of tension created in the young performer. With this tension the singer does not have the luxury of thinking vocally and so the good old reliable vocal muscles resume what they know best; what they have done for most of their life. This not only makes for a bad performance but reinforces the old “ non-technique” in the muscles. In fact, the singer is doing a great deal of damage to his prospects for a career, instead of improving them. What makes this worse is the fact that the young singer is usually in a city away from his or her voice teacher. This is probably one of the reasons I see so many teachers listed on young singers bios.

Another problem I see with young artists programs is that the singers are assigned the roles they are to sing. What is the problem with that, you ask? Well, every tenor’s voice is not suited for every tenor role. This is, of course, the same for every voice category. And there are many more categories than the average person may realize.
At the risk of boring you (why should that bother me now) here is a partial list: all voice categories break down into lyric, dramatic and Wagnerian; add to this, coloratura soprano, “pants-role mezzo”, contralto, tenor leggiero, spinto tenor, counter tenor (if we must), bass-baritone, basso profundo; not to mention voices suited only for comprimario / buffo roles. And I am sure I have left a few out. Making this more complicated is the fact that a tenor (I use the tenor voice as a example since I know that voice the best) who will sing spinto roles in the prime of his career should not be singing those roles at the beginning of his career. This would be the same as a beginning body builder trying to lift Olympic weights without the proper training or supervision.

Back to the young artists programs. Singers are expected to do at least 2 productions a year, and in most cases also do minor roles in the main stage production of the opera company they are connected with. The operas chosen for the young artists programs are generally what the director wants to do and not necessarily the best roles for the singers ( I will remind you that the Seattle Opera Young Artist Program last year performed Ariadne auf Naxos, an opera that most major companies in the word cannot stage for lack of the proper voices).

While adjudicating at the earlier mentioned vocal contest one of the other judges (the only singer besides me) mentioned that the baritone had obviously picked an aria that was too heavy for his voice. Another judge stated that he had personally selected that very baritone for his young artist program (never mind the obvious conflict) and that he was scheduled to perform a role more suitable for his voice. Then, unfortunately, he continued by stating that later in the season they may have him do a heavier role, because he felt singers must be challenged. I would remind you (and him) of my “weight-lifter” example.

The fact that these young singers get to sing small parts in the major productions is quite exciting for them, and indeed, they get the day to day experience of being involved in a professional production. The downsides, however, are the afore mentioned vocal tension and the fact that the roles they are singing are comprimario (secondary) roles when they clearly aspire to make their careers singing leads. It is an unfortunate fact that most major opera companies do not hire singers who become branded as comprimario singers for lead roles. There may be some examples to the contrary, but it is certainly a danger, especially since young singers go from one young artist program to another singing small role after small role. Also because camprimario roles are by design short and not musically difficult the amount gained by performing them is at best minimal. The one real benefit, of course, is to the opera companies who are able to cast their comprimario roles on the cheap The same problem exists for young singers who do lead roles in small “neighborhood” companies. It tends to brand them in the minds of professional opera companies as amateurs, and the quality of the performances can have a negative effect on their vocal and artistic development.

What troubles me the most, however, is that young singers with great potential, but not yet reliable technique, find they can be lulled into thinking they are actually having a career as a professional singer when in reality they are simply going from young artist program to young artist program with a performance in a small regional company or a church oratorio thrown in for good measure.

Clearly the famous singers of the past did not get their training at young artist programs since these programs are a fairly recent creation. In the past, singers simply learned their technique and then auditioned for agents and or opera companies. In many cases their teachers helped them by recommendations and arranging auditions with influential people in the opera world. Are our young singers of today superior to the Martina Arroyos, Richard Tuckers, Robert Merrills, Joan Sutherlands, Franco Corellis, Leontyne Prices, Carlo Berganzis, Leonard Warrens................... of the past? I have stated, ad nauseam, that I believe opera is about music and great singing, but that does not mean that the dramatic element is unimportant. It is indeed, but the drama comes from the music and the emotion created by singers who understand the characters and situations they are portraying and have the technique to convey that to the audience; not by staging and acting learned at workshops.

When I debuted in Germany in 1971, it was the first time I had appeared in a staged performance with orchestra.
After graduating from law school, I went to New York (by way of San Francisco) and worked on vocal technique for two years (most of which was spent undoing bad technique learned in San Francisco). When my teacher felt I was ready, I got an agent who took me, along with a group of aspiring singers, to Germany to audition. Germany, with opera theaters in almost every city was the starting point for most American singers in my day. I was hired by the Pfalztheater in Kaiserslautern and after one year decided to go to Tel Aviv and audition for the Israeli National Opera. I knew that Placido Domingo had started there, so I figured it was a good place for an aspiring spinto tenor. I got the job and spent the next two seasons singing the tenor leads in “Lucia di Lammermoor”, “La Boheme”, “La Traviata”, Casio in “Othello” as well as the operetta, “Eine Nacht in Venedig”.

During those thee years I learned the rigors of having to be at rehearsals during the day and performances in the evening. I learned how to prepare a role and work with conductors and stage directors as well as my fellow colleagues. In other words, I was maturing as a singer and performer and was, indeed, singing in a real established opera company, with an educated audience who bought subscriptions and expected a good caliber production. I also had a wife and two children, who rounded out my life and kept me connected to “the real world”. There was no time to be pampered or play the dilettante

In 1973, while still singing at the Israeli Opera, war with the Arab world erupted. The theater in Tel Aviv closed and we spent the duration of the conflict in New York. While there, my teacher arranged an audition with the New York City Opera and in 1974 I debuted at NYCO singing Pinkerton in ”Madama Butterfly”(my Cio-Cio- San was Patricia Craig who went on to sing at the Met and now teaches at the San Francisco Conservatory after many years at the New England Conservatory). I had never sung Pinkerton before and made my New York City Opera debut in a role I learned a few months before the performance, and, although I had rehearsals in a practice room, I had never sung the role with an orchestra nor set foot on the stage of the New York State Theater before that evening.

I pass this story along not to show what a uniquely gifted person, let alone singer, I am (you my draw your own conclusions) but to illustrate that most of my colleagues have similar stories. They made their careers by diligent, intensive vocal study and taking risks in the “real word” of opera, not by spending years in young artists programs with scholarships from wealthy patrons.

I pride myself in the belief that I have provided my audiences with a well sung, and well thought out character portrayal that did justice to what the composer and librettist had intended.

One of the most satisfying experiences I have had as a singer was being asked by Glynn Ross, founder of Seattle Opera, to open the season as Pinkerton in September 1977.
Melinda Bargreen (who is now a friend, but whom I had not yet met) wrote a review that is one I cherish. Not so much because she praised my voice (Ok!, I liked that a lot, too), but because she wrote about my portrayal of Pinkerton, which was different than most, but is what I strongly believe Puccini had in mind when he wrote what I feel is one of the most emotionally beautiful operas of all time.

Forgive me the indulgence, but I have to quote from her review in The Seattle Times, Friday, September 16th 1977 (I will skip the part where she talks about my “...big, brilliant voice”...) “...Poll’s Pinkerton is youthful and impetuous, downing quantities of whisky and bounding about the stage. It is a believable interpretation, one which can explain Pinkerton’s personality and behavior better than most. In Poll’s performance, Pinkerton is a rash youth rather than a cynical cad.”

I remember the performance well; the other principles were singers I had performed the opera with in New York. The audience was very effusive, and in fact, I still have people stop me today telling me they remember that “Butterfly” performance. I believe it was a memorable performance because we all cared and gave thought to our portrayals and the conductor and stage director believed in the work and let us make the music and plot live, instead of inserting cute stage business to show the audience how clever they were.

Neither I nor any of my colleagues in that performance had been involved in young artists programs. We simply reacted to one another as we assumed our characters would have. A great actor doesn’t act the role; he/she lives it. I think young artists programs spend time on body movement and acting because as directors they ask singers to react with ”stage business” that flies in the face of the plot as the composer envisioned it. One has to “act” if the staging is contrary to how normal people(or even opera singers for that matter) would react; for example, singers bouncing up and down and turning in circles while singing a sextet (Seattle Opera’s “Barber of Seville) or Edgardo reacting to the ghost of Lucia (Seattle Opera’s Lucia) which is not a part of the plot.

In fairness, I must say that there are young artists programs that are well run, and I am all for getting the most training you can to be the best performer you can be. But at the same time the most important commodity an opera singer has is his/her voice, and nothing else should take precedence. A great performer without a good voice is an actor, not an opera singer. Perhaps they are what Seattle Opera called the performers who debuted in “Amelia”; singing actors. But they are not opera singers. I like a good singing actor as much, or more, than the next guy; but they belong in musicals and not on the opera stage.

Today we have hundreds and hundreds of aspiring singers graduating universities, or studying privately with the myriad of teachers, (the majority of whom have never had a career of their own) and unfortunately will never achieve their goal. So what becomes of all these singers when they realize that they are no longer “Young Artists” and have never had a career.?

You have probably guessed the answer by now. Yes, of course, they do the obvious; they teach voice while skipping merrily down the yellow brick road.

Seattle Opera’s “Magic Flute” (It’s about the costumes, stupid!)

With all the hype and great critical press surrounding Seattle Opera’s “Magic Flute”, I attended a performance on Friday May 20th and realized how foolish I was. No, not because I had paid almost $200 to witness a performance that was, at best, the musical quality of a small provincial theater in Germany, but that I had actually expected to be transported by being present at a performance of one of the most uplifting and musically satisfying operas in the standard repertoire. Instead, I felt the same as a contributor to the “Seattle Gay Scene” who wrote, “I didn’t leave McCaw Hall last Sunday with much joy in my heart”. But I now know that if I had paid more attention to my own blog, I would have realized that the days of opera, as I have known it, are a thing of the past. Today it’s about the costumes, stupid.

And, indeed, the costumes for Seattle Opera’s Magic Flute were spectacular. So much so that intelligent and sophisticated people mistook a cross between Cirque de Soleil and San Francisco’s Beach Blanket Babylon for “Grand Opera”. Never mind that the singers, with a few exceptions, were not up to their roles. In fact, Sarastro and Papageno were actually wearing head mics (You’ve got to hand it to Seattle Opera for being on the cutting edge). Actually in the case of Sarastro it would have been better if he had not, because the mic made it clear that he did not have the low notes needed to sing the role.

But the costumes WERE spectacular. So spectacular that the animals that appeared, (more times than is usual and not necessarily in the plot) received more applause at the end of the opera than did the leads (perhaps I should give more credit to our Seattle audiences than I have). I might add that they were so amusing that the chuckles from the audience nearly drowned out the singing (I wonder if that was Mozart’s intent?). The previously quoted contributor to the “SGS” wrote at the end of his posting, “Their (Seattle Opera) “Flute” has it’s own charms and delights and is worth experiencing on it’s own merits. I just wish they’d maybe spent a bit less on hiring Zandra Rhodes (costume designer) and used some of that money on a better set and more interesting staging….” I agree, with most of what he states, but what really were the merits of this production?

I tried to figure out what else was meritorious, especially since this production was so widely hailed in the press. Clearly Mozart wrote a wonderful score for this opera (or singspiel if you prefer), but the way Maestro Wedow raced his orchestra along robbed us of all the real charm that should be present in any reading of “Magic Flute”. This was especially true in the case of the Three Spirits who sang the notes without any phrasing or feeling. It also would have helped if they had been on pitch. I know it is not nice to criticize school children, and in fact I don’t blame them, but rather those musically in charge, for not correcting the glaring pitch problems. I assume they are good diligent singers who could follow proper coaching. If they could not sing on pitch, then they should have been replaced and if no one could be found able to sing the roles, perhaps the choice of operas was a mistake (I guess the same could be said for a lot of Seattle Opera’s performances). Have I mentioned that I feel Seattle Opera needs a music director? I think those in charge were more concerned with the Three Spirits’ ability to ride scooters, blow bubbles or just wave and look cute, than to sing on pitch. Oh yes, they wore great, shiny silver “lederhosen”. Stupid me!

How stupid am I? Well for starters, I never realized that “Magic Flute” was a comic opera. I know there is a comic quality to Papageno and Papagena but many operas include a comic character or two without being classified as comic operas (Boheme, Hoffman, Cosi, and Entfuhrung come quickly to mind), but I never realized that it was actually a slap-stick Marx Brothers style comedy.

Although I have seen many “Magic Flute” productions and have participated in a few myself, I was stupid enough to think that “Magic Flute”, more than almost any other opera, had a great moral to teach; the triumph of good over evil (day and night) and the universality of brotherly love (Sarastro’s Order). I was even stupid, or naive enough, to think that Papagano was a foil for Tamino. Tamino a prince and Papageno a simple character, both share a common right to love and dignity. I was clearly mistaken on both counts.

This production makes it clear that Papageno is simply a buffoon and Leigh Melrose played this so successfully that towards the end of the opera, when Papageno threatens to hang himself if Papagena does not appear, which has a bit of humor included (I always felt that it added to the poignancy), the audience got into the act and shouted out eins, zwei, drei randomly. I have never experienced anything like it in any opera house before, and Seattle Opera and Leigh Melrose certainly deserve a great deal of credit for producing this theatrical happening. Maybe they should consider taking out the front few rows of seats and creating a “mosh pit”.

And secondly, my great moral theory doesn’t hold up either. Toward the end of the opera, Tamino and Pamina after going through fire and water (the requirements for entrance into Sarastro’s order) reject Sarastro’s offer of admittance. Incidentally, this is not how the opera usually ends, but rather another improvement to the plot that Seattle Opera has ingeniously come up with (what a shame Mozart is not alive to experience it). One does wonder, however, why Tamino bothers to go through all the trials in the first place (it appears not all princes are rocket scientists), but if he didn’t, it would have been a very short evening. Perhaps a better name for this opera would have been, “What I Did For Love”.

There are several other oddities that I am still in a quandary about. Since “Magic Flute” is a singspiel (meaning there is a lot of spoken dialogue), and the opera is translated via supertitles anyway, why didn’t the characters just simply speak the dialogue in English. I am bright enough to know that it is always better to sing an opera in the language in which it was composed, but spoken dialogue is another matter.

Also, Tamino and Papageno are each given musical objects (usually instruments; I will explain shortly). Tamino receives a magic flute; hence the name of the opera. This would lead one to believe that this is an important prop. Thanks to the wisdom of modern opera directors, we now have supertitles to tell us exactly what is being said/or sung in that strange language on stage. Why then would Tamino have a metal flute when Pamina tells us how her father carved that very same flute from a solid piece of wood. He must have been a “Magic Carver”. Papageno is given a music box (?): the type young girls have, with ballerinas that twirl around when you open them. This, I believe, is simply so the stage director could show a cameo of Papagena twirling around (ballerina in music box) right before she finally appears. However, in every performance I have ever seen, he is given a form of glockenspiel, which is composed of little bells on a pole that tinkle when shaken. The libretto reads “silber glockchen”, which means silver bells(not music box: “Komm, du schönes Glockenspiel, Laß die Glöckchen klingen…”). Why do we need to read the words of the libretto when they don’t match what is happening on stage. I guess they didn’t have music boxes in Mozart’s time(?).



Never mind the singers, plot, artistic style, conductor or composers intentions. THE COSTUMES WERE SPECTACULAR. What more does one really need?

I used to believe that opera was about great music sung beautifully by well trained singers who along with the orchestra and conductor transform a composer’s music and ideas into a magical, thrilling art form. I believed that names such as Bergonzi, Tebaldi, Pinza, Toscanini etc.….created a special musical excitement that enriched the soul and lifted the spirit, and I hoped that in some small way I could help continue that tradition. The critical acclaim and audience response given Seattle Opera’s “Magic Flute” has shown me the depth of my folly.

It’s about the costumes, stupid!

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Opera

It has been a while since I have posted a blog, and it was by design. Although I have received much good response from both new readers and old friends, I have also been told by some that I am too negative and that some of my comments border on pomposity. I could just simply bask in the praise and attribute the con to people who are either uninformed, lacking in appreciation of the arts or simply not able to admit that the Emperor is naked. Although I do not, necessarily, rule that out, I do feel that it is important to step back a bit, and re-evaluate my convictions, especially when they are as strongly felt as mine and so many people rave about performers and performances that I feel to be, at best, average and at worst, disasters.

While in my period of soul-searching, I took my 9 year old granddaughter to “The Barber of Seville” and a funny thing happened on the way to the opera. Walking from the car to McCaw Hall, I asked Sasha if she had read the synopsis I had emailed to her. Her answer took me by surprise, but gave me a new perspective and reinforced my convictions. She answered, “No Papa, that would have spoiled it”.

I realized that it would be a sin of the highest order to divulge the end of a Coen brothers’ movie and no one wants to know how a best seller ends. So what is the difference here? The answer, of course, is simple; opera is about music and singing, not about the plot. The plot is simply a vehicle for the performers. Of course it is important, but not in the way the story is to a movie or a book. You don’t go to an opera to find out if Mimi and Rodolfo live happily ever after, but rather to hear how the singers and conductor shape their roles and music, and hopefully to experience a wonderful emotional high. Opera is, first and foremost, a musical event. The solo instrument is the voice. Staging adds to the experience (or should), but opera rises and/or falls on the quality of the musicians and the soloists.

There is the old joke of a man leaving a theater and saying loudly to the patrons waiting for the next showing “The butler did it”. But would it matter if that same man shouted to a crowd going to a symphony concert, “G major”? We all know how the “Beethoven Ninth” ends (not in G major, by the way) or the “Messiah” but we still go to hear it time after time. I have never been to an opera, the plot of which I didn’t either know beforehand or was not able to read in the theater before the performance. The plots are in the programs because, in America, most opera goers are not conversant enough in the language of the opera to follow the action. Until the advent of Supra-Titles this sufficed, and I feel it is still far superior to Supra-Titles for the enjoyment of opera (but more of that latter). People have been going to and enjoying operas in Italian, French and German for many years; but I don’t know of many non-French speakers who would go to a play in French, even if they knew the plot.

People remember and talk about the time they heard Beverly Sills sing “Lucia” or Artur Rubinstein play Chopin. Even Speight Jenkins, a champion of modern staging, in his articles in the opera programs speaks about the great singers he has heard perform the operas he is about to present. When Richardo Muti, conducts an opera, any opera, it is sold out. The plot is not better when Maestro Muti conducts, nor is the staging. I saw a performance he conducted of Verdi’s “Attila at the Met. (see my May 2, 2010 posting). The staging was minimal and the costumes weird, but the performance was wonderful even though “Attila” is far from one of Verdi’s best. If you are going to an opera for the plot you are wasting your time and money.

As most of you probably know, Maestro Muti recently conducted a concert version of “Othello” at Carnegie Hall with his Chicago Symphony. In an interview with a New York Times reporter, he was asked if the performance would be semi-staged. His reply, “I don’t like semi-staged performances, What does it mean? Opera is either staged or not staged. The drama is in the way the singers sing, the way the orchestra plays, not in stupid movement.”

But if Maestro Muti is correct that, “The drama is in the way the singers sing (and) the way the orchestra plays”, then why do we have all this emphasis today on directors and staging. The answer, I believe, is both simple and complex. We simply do not have enough singers or conductors of the quality needed for consistently great performances. Why we don’t, I believe, is somewhat more complicated.

I will concentrate my comments on the quality of opera performances in America today, since I am not now as conversant with opera in Europe as I once was.

That having been said, we have seen incredible changes in
communications and mobility in the last 20 years. With this technology comes a great excitement and feeling of empowerment. We can, therefore we do! And we do it as fast as is un-humanly possible. In previous generations a singer would spend several years with a teacher developing a sound technique and then start singing with small theaters in Europe until they developed as an artist and hopefully went on to a major career. Today a garage mechanic or a barista can sing one aria on you-tube and a star is born. America’s got talent! Even young singers in universities today expect instant success.

And speaking of universities and conservatories, is it, perhaps, fair to say that we have far too many voice programs for the quality to be good in all of them (or even most of them). When I started singing following law school in 1966, I found that I had to go to New York to find a teacher that could get me to where I was properly prepared to audition for opera companies in Europe. I am not saying that there are not decent teachers in many cities in America today, but I do find it illogical that there could be so many. Teaching voice is an intricate task that requires patience and a great deal of knowledge of how a healthy voice develops. If not done properly a voice can be easily damaged, sometimes irreparably. Think of the time, money and dreams that are wasted.

Where did all these teachers come from? I feel (as do most of the teachers I respect with good track records), that to really prepare a young singer for a career, teachers should have had a career themselves singing in major theaters. A young singer must be able to take what they learn from their teacher and integrate it into their own instrument, so that they develop the skills to deal with the routine and demands of an operatic career. One of the most difficult things for a singer is that like all performers they are nervous (and rightfully so) before every performance. The difference for a singer is that the voice is the instrument and it is also nervous. Pianos don’t have nerves. Also other instruments do not tire as a performance goes on, or have to deal with emotional ups and downs. A teacher who has had a career understands and has conquered this and can impart it to their students. How many of the teachers in universities and conservatories around the country have sung in major opera houses? We are all born with a voice and the capabilities to sing. What sets an opera singer apart is the ability to use that voice in such a skilled manner as to produce beautiful sounds that thrill the listener…not unlike the skills required in figure skating. It is interesting that in the world of figure skating there are only about five instructors in the whole world who one must train with to succeed. How can there be so many good voice teachers?

I recently finished listening to over forty young singers who submitted their bios and CDs for admittance to the finals of the “Sun Valley Opera Vocal Competition”. Almost every bio was impressive, yet I found it very difficult to find four finalists. Not because they were all so good, but because even though many had beautiful instruments, their techniques were flawed. Most of them had studied with a least three teachers and had sung in innumerable master classes and several young artist programs. Proper vocal technique is actually quite straight forward but requires a great deal of time and diligence to master. Too many teachers today teach tricks and shortcuts and physiology, instead of good old fashioned technique.

There are also more opera companies in more cities around the country today than ever before, not to mention the small suburban ones springing up almost daily, that do one or two performances a year. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, but where do the singers for these performances come from? From the bank of students who graduate from voice departments each year, who are told by their teachers how great they are? They are more than eager to sing in a “real” staged opera performance. Most of these singers are not ready for the roles they sing and many are not ready to sing on stage no matter the role. But that doesn’t stop the companies from using them, with the emphasis on “using”. So singers with improper or not firmly established techniques go on to sing in young artist programs that don’t give them proper training (there are a few exceptions) and then sing a role with a small company here and there, and unfortunately that will probably be the extent of their vocal life. This is not only unfair and sad for the singers, but because of our lack of classical music exposure in our schools, and the hype that opera companies make about their performances, the average opera goer comes to believe, or wants to believe, that they are hearing “Grand Opera’. Our standards are so low today that even the critics start to believe bad singing is the norm.

Because the quality of singing is not equal to the task, and we are now bombarded with high-tech glitzy Broadway and instant management- created stars, opera companies have had to look for ways to compete. Enter the “genius” stage director who comes up with “La Boheme” on Mars or as Peter Kazaras did in” Falstaff” in Seattle, have the singers dress and undress on stage (not a pretty sight). The opera attraction has become the staging, not the music and voices, and the stage director gets top billing. To see how far this has come, read Anthony Tommasini’s review in today’s New York Times of the Met’s new production of “Walkure”, which probably should be re-named “ The Stage Set That Ate Brunnhilde”. Seattle Opera, as I have stated before, does not even have a Music Director. Why bother!

Here is where Supra-Titles come in.. The stated idea is for the audience to be able to follow every word of the libretto. Of course this really isn’t possible because it is someone’s translation into American vernacular, which can be quite different from what the librettist really intended. Never mind as long as the stage director likes it. If a tenor and soprano sing a five minute love duet does it really matter what words are actually spoken. The singing should be more than enough to create the mood. In fact, isn’t music really mightier than the spoken word? (sounds like a Geico commercial)

I feel that more than anything else supra-titles take the audience’s attention away from the voice, and the performance turns into reading a novel (a bad one at that) while listening to background music, making it hard for the singer or orchestra to really connect with the audience’s emotions as it should. It also lessens ones realization that the voices are inadequate. One clear example of this was illustrated in Seattle Opera’s performance of “Amelia”(posting May 24, 2010) Many times during the performance the orchestra clearly covered the singers and they were not audible, yet many people swore that they heard every word. How about, read every word.

We who care about opera and the classical music as a whole, must be more vigilant and try to make our politicians (maybe not) and educators realize that the classical arts are an important component in a healthy life and must be included in our education system. There is an emotion and thrill in a live opera performance, well executed, that lifts the spirit in a way that is hard to imitate. There are so many electronic stimuli in our lives that something so intrinsic to our being as the human voice must be allowed continue to inspire and not be minimalized or cheapened.

In a review in the New York Times of the Met’s “Il Trovatore” Friday April 22, 2011, Zachary Wolfe writes “…the convoluted plot of Verdi’s “Trorvatore” can seem like the setup for a joke….“Trovatore” overcomes it’s absurdities, though, with irresistible melodies and tightly driven rhythms. Oh,and it helps if you have four amazing singers.” He goes on to ask, “Where are today’s great Verdi singers?” He later states that the conductor was unable to keep things moving forward properly, and in closing states “without that crispness and tightness “Il Trovatore”, which can be riveting, all too easily slackens into yet an other punch line”.
“Trovatore”, unlike “Attila”, is one of Verdi’s best.

In closing, opera is not about plot or staging; the drama is in the way the singers sing and the orchestra plays. It is about the singers and the conductor and if we don’t produce great singers and demand high standards of our presenting organizations we won’t continue to have opera, at least not as we have known it.

Thank God for “American Idol”.

SEATTLE SYMPHONY “MOZART REQUIEM” (SALVE NOS)

The Seattle Symphony’s performance of Mozart’s “Requiem” on Thursday the 20th of February puts the “wreck” back in requiem. It was hard for me to believe that I was listening to a masterpiece, preformed by a “major” symphony orchestra with its conductor of more than 25 years at the helm. It was a sad night, and one, I am sure Maestro Schwartz, would not like us to remember as his legacy.

Actually, the evening was doomed from the beginning. The soprano soloist, Hahan Alattar who was engaged for the performance, cancelled and was replaced by Christina Siemens, who is better know to Seattle audiences as a “company pianist” for the Pacific Northwest Ballet. But it seems Ms. Alattar was not the only one not in attendance. Most of the Symphony’s key players were also missing in action. The reason given was that they were playing “The Barber Of Seville” at Macaw Hall. One of the many joys of living in Seattle (a city that boasts of being in the cultural main-stream) is that the Symphony members moonlight for the opera. That may all be well and good, but I don’t believe they should be playing for the opera on an evening of a subscription concert.

The first offering of the evening was a world premier commissioned as one of many to be heard throughout the season in honor of Maestro Schwarz’s farewell season as music director of the symphony. If Daniel Brewbaker’s “Be Thou The Voice” for soprano and orchestra is a bellwether of the caliber of the others to follow, it will be a very long farewell season for our departing leader. Many years ago, I bought a game that had various musical phrases from Mozart pieces on separate cards. The idea was to arrange the various cards in such a way as to create your own “Mozart” composition. I think Mr. Brewbaker also bought one and took the instructions to heart. If you were not at the concert, you will just have to trust me, because I’m sure you will never hear this piece again.

Then came a raucous reading of the Mozart Symphony No. 28, a light-weight offering from a young Mozart. I don’t pretend to know the work(I don’t remember ever having heard it before) but the last movement contained some of the ugliest string sounds I have ever heard on a concert stage. I’m not sure who was to blame.

Ending the first half was Mozart’s Horn Concerto No.2 in E-Flat Major. Even the sloppy playing of the orchestra could not detract from the wonderfully phrased playing of John Cerminaro. He did, however, seem somehow out of place.

After intermission came the titular composition of the evening, Mozart’s, incomparable, “Requiem Mass”. I am very familiar with this work and have heard and performed it many times, and it ranks high on my “all-time favorites” list. I found the performance to be most puzzling. As was mentioned, by at least one Seattle reviewer, it was more bombastic than it was solemn and the tempi ranged from fast to faster. The first entrance by the solo quartet was forte or perhaps mezzo-forte, but the score has it marked “soto voce” There was very little contrast in choral sound from one section to the next, and the fact that the chorus is badly in need of some sopranos with solid high notes, did not add to the overall effect. In fact, it seemed to be devoid of any real feeling. Not good for a requiem.

The solo quartet does not have a great volume of music to sing in Mozart’s “Requiem”, but what it does have is very important. Mozart has the soprano soloist sing a phrase near the beginning of the piece and repeating the same musical phrase near the end. This was not written by chance; but on this evening it clearly did not make the impact that the composer intended. Perhaps it is not fair to fault Ms. Siemens, since she was a replacement, but although she has a pleasant voice, she does not have the commanding quality of projection that the music demands. In fact, a good deal of the time she is making beautiful tones (perhaps), but she did not project into the hall. The program notes mentioned that she also sings with the Tudor Choir; I assume her voice is better suited for that than Benaroya Hall.

For me, the piece really “gets going” with the “Tuba Mirum” introduced by the trombone followed by the bass soloist and then each member of the solo quartet joining one by one. This is one of the musical highlights of the “Requiem” and should be both exciting and majestic. The trombone was fine, but it went downhill from there. I found Weston Hurt’s baritone to be much too light, and his sustained low note far too insignificant for the moment. Come to think of it, the score calls for a bass, not a baritone. There IS a difference! I know Mr. Hurt probably does some roles that call for a bass, since he can hit the low notes. Basses are rarer than baritones, and everyone wants to save money….. but there are certain roles that require a basse’s timbre, and this is certainly one. Actually, I heard Mr. Hurt sing Germont in Seattle Opera’s “La Traviata” and felt it was a bit too light then. It is interesting that neither the program nor his management list him as “Bass-Baritone”. I guess that is because he isn’t one. Just being able to reach a note does not define what a singer is. As stated in an earlier blog, even through Placido Domingo sings baritone roles (and don’t we wish he wouldn’t) he is still a tenor and still sounds like a tenor.

Speaking of tenors, Ross Hauck the tenor soloist had all the notes (I think) but I feel his voice is too lyric and borders at times on a comprimario sound. I felt that many times in the quartet ensemble the tenor line got lost. I find it interesting that singers hired for performances are not nearly of the caliber or experience of the instrumental soloists hired. Perhaps this is because usually more than one singer is needed and it is too expensive. But I feel the main reason is that very few conductors know what constitutes good singing, and for that matter neither do most of the audiences today. I don’t blame the audiences because they have not grown up hearing good vocalism. Until we teach “real” music in our schools and find a way to expose people to great voices, we will never hear masterpieces, such as Mozart’s “Requiem” as they were intended and should be experienced. What a loss for us all. If you have never had a really well made Cabernet Sauvignon you don’t realize how bad “two buck Chuck” is.

Of course the evening ended with a standing ovation. Interestingly, it was what I call a “rolling” standing ovation; sort of like the “wave” also introduced in Seattle. It seems to me, that if something moves you so much that you want to spring to you feet you do it immediately. You should not have to wait a few moments until one or two people start and gradually join with the rest as they decide that they really liked the performance.

Actually one of the most satisfying moments of the evening was the conclusion (no, not just because it was finally over) because there was finally a moment of beautiful music-making. But unfortunately it came from a piece of music added on to the Requiem that was not intended by Mozart.

The “Requiem”, like any mass has several sections.
Here is a copy of the program listing.

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART Requiem, K. 626
Introitus
Kyrie
Sequenz
Offertorium
Sanctus
Benedictus
Agnus Dei
Communio
Ave verum corpus, K.618

The Requiem has and ending. “Ave verum corpus” is in fact very moving, but it is not and was not intended to be a part of Mozart’s “Requiem”. You can tell by the “K” numbers that it was written before the “Requiem”, so if Mozart had intended it to be included he would have included it himself and not waited for some conductor to do it for him years later. I wonder what we could add as an ending for the Verdi “Requiem” or Beethoven’s “Ninth”? I feel this is musically dishonest. It would be one thing to, perhaps, play it afterwards as an encore, but to go right into it, signaling the audience not to applaud at what they perceived (rightfully) to be the end of the piece, is very troubling. It is as though Maestro Schwarz did not feel the “Requiem” was strong enough on it’s own merits. Actually, this evening he was right about that. Not only was the “Requiem” “light weight” (not Mozart’s fault) at best, but the final note from the chorus was pushed flat, making for a very unfortunate ending.
In contrast, the” Ave verum corpus” was handled beautifully. Historians state that Mozart wrote the piece for his good friend, Anton Stoll, who was chorus master at the Parish church in Baden. He was aware not only of the Imperial ban on elaborate music in church, but also the limitations of Stoll's choir. For whatever reason, his setting is remarkable for its compact simplicity. This clearly worked to Maestro Schwarz’s and the chorus’s advantage.

My point here is not to trash the Seattle Symphony or for that matter Maestro Schwarz, but to plead with those of you out there who know, appreciate and care about classical music, to realize that unless we demand more from our musical institutions and critics, we are in danger of loosing this wonderful art form as we know it. Perhaps we already have. Who knows, maybe in a few seasons we will have a television series devoted to amateur music-making. How about “America’s Got Orchestras”. All you would need is a good PR person, a few critics looking for work and a couple of nouveau billionaires who want to appear cultured.
Have I gone too far? I certainly hope so, but just think about it for a moment.

Seattle Opera’s “Lucia di Lammermoor”

Seattle Opera’s performance of “Lucia di Lammermoor” is a good example of a great opera adequately done. It left the average listener satisfied and happy. In fact, I felt it was the best evening I have experienced at Seattle Opera in recent memory. This gives us a great chance to look at the evening in more detail and see what separates a nice evening at the theater from a really exceptional performance.

I imagine some of you saying, “why nit-pick” what was ostensibly a good, enjoyable performance. This goes to the essence of why I blog. As I have stated before (maybe too many times), I believe that we have lowered our standards for classical musicians to such an extent that just getting through a performance without any major flaws deserves a standing ovation. I feel very strongly that we have to change our mind-set and expect more from our major arts presenters. When it comes to singers, we have to train our ears to appreciate good singing and good technique and not mere sound. We need to demand that our conductors do more than just direct traffic and that our stage directors support composers’ ideas and not just showcase their own novel stagings and costumes. But most importantly, we, as an audience, must view a production with open eyes and ears and not decide something must be good because it was produced by a major company.

The other day someone (anonymous by name) wrote a comment to my blog of “Amelia” complaining about another commenter who said, “the singers were not up to the task”. Anonymous said, “they must be good because Speight Jenkins chose them”. I do not wish to comment on my views of Mr. Jenkins’ expertise, but for someone to say that a singer must be good because they were hired by an established director or conductor is too ludicrous to waste too much print on. If you follow the logic (or lack thereof) then it would be impossible to have a bad, or even just “so-so” performance, as long as the singers were chosen by Mr. Jenkins or one of his colleagues. That would surely put music critics out of work. Actually, that might not make too much difference, since it seems that the majority of critics today are afraid to appear too negative and simply stick to a vague recounting of the performance. Or perhaps, in some cases, they haven’t the expertise to delve too deeply into detail.

What we badly need are more Martin Bernheimers. If you are not familiar with the name (and you should be), he was for many years the very powerful music critic for the L.A. Times, received a Pulitzer Prize and since his move to New York, continues to be one of the most respected voices in the classical music world today as a reviewer for the Financial Times and Opera News. He, of course, reviewed Beverly Sills on many occasions and would often raise questions as to how she handled one of the many Donizetti “queens” she was so famous for. It seems to me that if Ms. Sills could have her performances scrutinized at the height of her career, then, Aleksandra Kurzak, singing her first “Lucia” ever, should have had and, in fact, deserved to have had her performances discussed in more depth than “Wow’, “Oh Boy”, and “What a surprise”.

Let’s take a “critical” look at the performance, and we might as well start with Lucia herself. Basically, I found Miss Kurzak’s voice enjoyable. She sang very musically and has a good command of coloratura. I found her (and perhaps the stage director’s) interpretation of the role very interesting and engaging, with the exception of her mounting her brother during the mad scene, which I found out of character and just downright vulgar. What troubles me is that her voice is a bit smaller than the Lucias to which we are accustomed and perhaps smaller than the role demands. This caused her to widen and push in her middle range in order to fill a hall the size of McCaw. I mentioned to my wife, after the first act, that I thought she was placing her voice a bit too far in her throat, trying to make it seem larger than it naturally is, and that this could fare badly for her high notes as the opera progressed. Sure enough, as the opera continued, her high notes suffered, and indeed, the night we attended, near the end of the run, her final high E flat was really not there at all. I know there were people and reviewers who said, after opening night, that she “nailed” her E-flats, and I must believe them. But the weight of the role, and the way she was singing took a toll on her voice as the performances wore on. As I stated, I think she has a good instrument and is a fine performer, but it will be interesting to follow her career in the next few years. I would bet that she will either re-think her approach to her middle voice, or perhaps drop “Lucia" from her repertoire.

William Burden, the Edgardo, was also a lighter more “lyric” voice than is usual in that role. Edgardo is a difficult tenor role since the tessitura, especially in the first act is very difficult for the more spinto voice, but the second act needs a spinto’s dramatic chest quality. It should be noted that pitch in the period when Donizetti composed was quite a bit lower than it is today, thus making the tessitura that much harder. Although I prefer a more dramatic and less lyric tenor in the role, I feel Mr. Burden is to be applauded for the way he championed his resources to turn in a fine performance. I especially liked his final arioso, “ Tu che a Dio spiegasti l’ali”, and found it the emotional high point of the opera (which I guess, it should be).

Although I enjoyed the full, rich sound of Arthur Wooley
both times I have heard him with Seattle Opera, I found myself very troubled by his (or perhaps the stage director’s) presentation of Raimondo. (I am still trying to figure out what he was wearing and why.) Raimondo is a cleric and tutor / confidant of Lucia. He is after all, her only real ally within her brother’s castle. But I found his demeanor to be very aggressive both physically and vocally and could not understand how the frail Lucia could relate to, or more to the point, trust his counsel.

The stage director, Tomer Zyulun, has a way of making beautiful pictures on stage. This on it own sounds very admirable. But when the director, along with those beautiful scenes, changes the composers intent or indeed adds elements that were not in the score or libretto, I think , while it may be interesting and very clever, it isn’t to my thinking an honest service to the work. For example, my grand daughter saw this production ( her first live opera) and was very taken by it. It was, obviously, her first Lucia and it made quite an impression on her. I am thrilled that she is so into opera now, and we have discussed Lucia, together, many times, but I haven’t the heart to tell her that there is not a ghost in the original plot line. And, although, some people found it an interesting addition, I believe it convolutes the emotion that Donizetti had in mind.
Donizetti took the plot from Walter Scott’s novel, “The Bride of Lammermoor”; perhaps this production would have been more aptly named the “The Ghost of Lammermoor”

The opera according to Mr. Zyulun is updated and appears no longer to be in Scotland. This is no big deal except it seems the only reason for this change is so the mourners in the last scene could come in dressed all in black, wearing top hats and carrying black umbrellas (They must all shop at the same store). Oh, by the way, they are carrying umbrellas because it is snowing. Edgardo must not have listened to the morning weather forecast because he came to the tombs in his shirtsleeves. Perhaps, since he was determined to die at the hands of Enrico, he figured if by chance Enrico didn’t show up, he could just remain and freeze to death. At any rate it was a beautiful moment with the stage all in black and white, but it was more Zyulun than Donizetti or Scott.

Also his idea (perhaps dictated by the up-dated period change) to have the protagonists point pistols at one another right at the beginning of the sextet (one of the most famous in all of opera) elicited laughter from the audience. I wonder if that is what Donizetti had in mind. I’m still not sure if one carries a pistol and a sword or…..

I must once again state that I believe that an overture to an opera serves as an introduction and a setting of mood for the audience and is not intended to be staged. Any stage business during the overture is purely the director showing his own cleverness since it was clearly not intended by either composer or librettist.

Where this opera performance was the weakest, however, was in the pit, where it should be the strongest. As I have stated before, I am convinced that the most important element in an opera performance is the conductor. Opera, be it drama, comedy, folk tale or whatever, is basically music. A good conductor with adequate singers can equal an exciting performance, but a poor conductor can turn an evening with wonderful singers into a very dull event. Good singing alone does not a great opera performance make. It may be good singing, but it’s not a good performance. And in fact, it is very hard for a singer to achieve his or her best performance if the conductor does not phrase the music and breathe with the singer. The Metropolitan Opera’s performance of Verdi’s Attila, that I reviewed earlier is a good example of a conductor turning a very average cast and a second rate opera into a great musical evening.

Maestro Cinquegrani (can that really be his name) seemed to have no real grasp of Donizetti. His lethargic conducting made the first act duet (“Verrano a te sull’aure”) seem longer and more repetitive than I have ever heard it. The orchestra instead of connecting the phases, simply plodded along making one of opera’s most moving duets seem mundane. In the second act when Edgardo confronts Lucia and asks if she has, indeed, signed the marriage contract, he has one of the musical and emotional highlights of the opera; in fact it would be hard to find many, more powerful “ariosi” in the entire tenor repertoire (“Maledetto,maledetto sia l’istante”).
Here, Maestro Cinquegrani took a tempo that would make a grand prix driver envious but an opera fan cry.
It clearly made no musical or emotional sense. What the maestro needs to learn is: it’s not fast or slow that’s important, it’s rubato. But I guess if he doesn’t know that by now, he probably never will

In an earlier posting I pointed out what I feel to be a shocking fact and one that should bother many more people than just me; SEATTLE OPERA DOES NOT HAVE A MUSICAL DIRECTOR.

Seattle Opera has a:

General Director
Executive Director
Chief Financial Officer
Director of Human Resources
Director of Public Programs and Media
Director of Education
Director of Production
Interim Director of Development
Director of Marketing and Communications
Director of Artistic Operations and Season Planning
Technical and Facilities Director

?????????? WHAT SEEMS TO BE MISSING ?????????????


There is more I could say, but I will leave you to your own conclusions. I only ask that you read this with an open mind and give it some thought.

If you’re happy, and you know it, clap your hands!

A Glimmer Of Hope For Opera In America

A few weeks ago, having just returned home from a trip, I received a phone call from my nine year old granddaughter. I am always ecstatic to get a call from her and was assuming it was a welcome home call (perhaps suggested by her parents). Much to my surprise, she very excitedly began, “Papa, my class is going to see “Lucia di Lammermoor”, and we have been listening to singers and know all about the story. I can hardly wait.”

I told her how happy I was that she would see “Lucia” and that I had sung Edgardo with Beverly Sills and Patricia Brooks at New York City Opera. She did not know Patricia Brooks (not surprisingly) but was impressed with Beverly Sills because her’s was one of the “mad scenes” that they had listened to in class. She added that Miss Sills was her favorite (but that could have been to please me). I thought to myself, “There is a God”. But in the next few days I realized that there may or may not be a God, but “thank God”, there is a Neill Warfield.

Neill teaches at Spruce Street School in downtown Seattle and is a very dynamic, engaging teacher who is also a confirmed “opera buff”. In fact, he wears an “opera rocks” tee shirt ala “AC/DC”. How cool is that to a 4th or 5th grader? For the last several years he has been taking his classes to opera dress rehearsals at McCaw Hall. They even have a few alumni of these opera excursions joining them. At my grand daughter’s urging, he invited me to talk to the students about opera and opera singing. I was very taken by how knowledgeable and interested they were. I had a chance to talk with Neill about opera, and although we have differing views on super-titles and contemporary staging etc., we both share a love of the art form and hope to pass this opportunity on to others. He also started me re-thinking some of my views and although it may not be “my cup of tea”, I realize there’s room for many old and new drinkers. Most importantly, we both realize that young people are great audiences and need not have their art “sugar coated”.

My aim here is not to praise Spruce Street School or to deify Neill Warfield, but to point out that here is proof that given the proper exposure and environment young people can get into opera and be enriched by it even in the era of “High School Rock” and “Hanna Montana”

I talked to my granddaughter the day after the performance and asked her how it was. Her reply was, “awesome, I even cried”.

Everyone gives “lip- service” to the importance of classical music in our society. It is time to put some action behind those words and insist that our schools, be they public or private, introduce our youth to classical music. There is a plethora of hard evidence pointing out that students that have classical music in their lives achieve more and mature into better, more caring and grounded adults. Opera, I feel, is especially relevant, since it, more than symphonic music, adds the dimension of staged drama that takes the audience, especially young ones, to a deeper emotional plane.

Look around at the age of the average opera audience these days. If opera is to continue, we need more Neill Warfields and environments in which they can inspire our youth.

A New Year!

This is the time when people of the Jewish faith welcome in a new religious year. But in a broader spectrum, it is, for all people who appreciate classical music, the beginning of the musical scene throughout the world. It’s a time for eager anticipation of the year (season) to come, but also a time to reflect on the past.

Although I have not blogged for the last several months, I have attended several memorable performances. I have been told, by some, that most of my writing has been of a negative nature (don’t shoot the messenger), and so I am pleased to report that for the most part these recent performances have met or exceeded my expectations. After having experienced more mediocre performances, by some of our major arts organizations, than one should expect, it was indeed great to leave a performance with a smile on my face and a feeling of emotional satisfaction. I was especially relieved because I was beginning to think that, perhaps, I had, indeed, become jaded or had lost my sense of objectivity. Or, could it be, that my expectations or standards were unrealistic? But, alas, I have come away with renewed belief that we must not allow ourselves to lower our standards just because many of our arts organizations have lowered their's (for whatever reason) and that an uneducated or uninvolved audience goes along with the mediocrity. It has renewed my belief that art is, in fact, “art” because it is something special and not just another “day at the office.” And that in the right hands it is a magical thing. Here then, briefly, is my “Summer of Contentment”

When my wife mentioned that the 5th Avenue Theater was presenting “Candide” and wanted to buy tickets, I was quite skeptical. I knew that Seattle was having a ”Bernstein Festival” and therefore could understand the 5th’s desire to stage “Candide”, but I also realized how challenging a piece it is to mount.
We had, many, years earlier, experienced a performance in New York that was incredible, and I did not want to diminish my memories of this unique, theatrical work. However, after 46 years of marriage, I realized that if my wife really wanted to see another “Candide” we should see another “Candide”. My wife was right. (why is this not surprising?) The production was very professionally produced and did full justice to Bernstein and Voltaire’s genius. Even the very challenging musical score, albeit with scaled down orchestra, was effective. Kudos to the 5th Avenue Theater and condolences to those that did not see it. What a pleasure to leave the theater feeling you had experienced something special.

Shortly thereafter we took our two granddaughters to PNB’s performance of “Coppellia” which again was well done and a very enjoyable evening. I was late acquiring ticket (seems to be a theme going here) and the matinees were sold out, so we went to an evening performance. This is relevant because our granddaughters were 4 and 8, and sat focused on the stage throughout the entire ballet which was not finished till after 10:00pm. I will admit that the 8 year old did say she felt that toward the end there were several dances that, she felt, did not fit in; an observation I totally agreed with, but as with many ballets there usually seem to be the an extra pas-de-deux (or trois). Her comment made me even more impressed with the quality of the performance since it showed that my granddaughter (as with most children) was a discerning observer. If more audiences could be as involved and objective as children are, the arts would be better served.

A month later our 8 year old turned 9 (she announced that she was now a tween), and as a birthday present (more for us than for her) we took her to Los Angeles for a few days. Along with the usual LA "shtick”, we took her to the Hollywood Bowl to hear the LA Philharmonic conducted by Gustavo Dudamel. First of all, the Hollywood Bowl is a magical place, and there is something very special about an outdoor concert on a summer evening (I’m not sure why more cities don’t work harder to develop suitable outdoor venues). In Seattle we had one on Green Lake, but it was torn down to make room for a rowing facility! The LA Philharmonic is a great symphony orchestra (yes Virginia, there is a difference) and Gustavo Dudamel, whom we saw for the first time, really lives up to the hype. The program was predominantly Latino with the addition of Ravel’s “Bolero”. I could quibble a bit about his somewhat understated reading of the Ravel, but on the whole it made for a wonderful musical experience. Also on the program were songs by Manuel de Falla that were beautifully performed by mezzo-soprano Isabel Leonard, whose vocal production is one of the healthiest and most satisfying I have encountered in a long time. It was a real pleasure. Again my (now tween) granddaughter was charmed by the evening, and we exchanged comments on various parts of the concert as we made our way back to our hotel in the LA traffic.

I’ve mentioned my granddaughters quite a bit, and I do so not to dote or to try to show how smart and gifted they are (after all, they are my grandchildren), but because they are “children” and most people do not believe children can sit through an evening of “classical music”. Not only is this not the fact, but children can be some of the best audiences, because they are able to approach and enjoy the music (or whatever) for what it is and not what critics or the snobbish “musical elite” say it is.
Children are not afraid to tell you what they think. (How novel is that?) We simply don’t give them enough chances to experience the classical arts in this great country of ours.

There actually were two other evenings: one when my grandchildren sat through an evening of German lieder, and another when my “tween” accompanied me when I judged a vocal competition. The point of all this is that I am now more energized than ever and feel very strongly that we must not lower our standards. Good art does inspire and enrich the soul.

Just as Jews all over the world spend the next few days examining their values and strive to live more meaningful lives, may we, who care about the classical arts, not accept mediocrity either because it is too hard and unpopular to fight “the establishment”, or because we are swayed by media hype. Perhaps we should not let the program notes or our vast "musical knowledge" get in the way of our pure emotional reaction to what we hear and experience. Maybe Isaiah had it right: “a little child shall lead them”.