{"id":118946,"date":"2017-12-05T10:00:26","date_gmt":"2017-12-05T15:00:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=118946"},"modified":"2017-12-05T13:25:39","modified_gmt":"2017-12-05T18:25:39","slug":"opera-post-weinstein-world","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2017\/12\/05\/opera-post-weinstein-world\/","title":{"rendered":"Opera in a Post-Weinstein World"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_118947\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/melisande.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-118947\" class=\"size-full wp-image-118947\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/melisande.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"563\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/melisande.jpg 1000w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/melisande-300x169.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/melisande-768x432.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-118947\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">From the Welsh National Opera\u2019s staging of Debussy\u2019s <em> Pell\u00e9as et M\u00e9lisande<\/em>.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>These days, we hear soloists, ensembles, and choruses of women singing out against abusers. But the courage expressed by these female choirs has made me question my enjoyment of another kind of music. I\u2019m talking, of course, about opera. In this modern moment, it\u2019s difficult not to hear opera as the highly aestheticized echo of our deeply sordid reality, a harmonization of voices wrung from women\u2019s suffering. Louder and clearer than ever, I\u2019m hearing opera as critics like Catherine Cl\u00e9ment long have: as <a href=\"https:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Opera:_The_Undoing_of_Women\" target=\"_blank\">the undoing of women by men<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p>From an early age, my daughter (let\u2019s call her O. to protect her privacy until she\u2019s ready to tell her own story in the way she wants to) also recognized that there was something seriously wrong going on between men and women in opera. <em>Carmen<\/em> is her favorite opera. It used to serenade us on our daily commute to her nursery. She especially loved the children\u2019s chorus\u2014\u201cTaratata, taratata!\u201d\u2014as they imitated the marching soldiers bugling and fifing out the old guard for the new. We even watched Francesco Rosi\u2019s cinematic montage of bullfighting and lust in the dust of Seville. Then, one day, she asked me, \u201cIf Don Jose loves Carmen so much, why does he kill her?\u201d<\/p>\n<p><!--more--><\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s tricky to know how to answer that question, especially when it is posed to you by your three-year-old. As a university professor who\u2019s taught and thought about <em>Carmen<\/em> for years, I had on the tip of my tongue many themes with which to improvise an answer. Everything from the rejoinder generic\u2014\u201cIt\u2019s a tragedy. What did you expect?\u201d\u2014to the freewill retort\u2014\u201cDoes <em>he<\/em> kill <em>her<\/em>? Or does she <em>decide<\/em> to die on his blade?\u201d But neither of those nor the many other ripostes that I have previously pondered seemed satisfactory outside the classroom. When I thought about how I wanted my daughter to live and be loved, <em>Carmen<\/em> made for an appalling example.<\/p>\n<p>And it\u2019s not just operatic lovers, either. Operatic fathers have a lot to answer for, too. When O. was nine, we went to her first live opera: Verdi\u2019s <em>Aida<\/em>. Verdi had a thing about fathers and daughters. Perhaps with good reason: his two children died when the composer was in his twenties. In <em>Aida<\/em>, Verdi doubles up with two father\/daughter sets. And then there\u2019s <em>Rigoletto<\/em>, <em>Simon Boccanegra<\/em>, and, in a certain way, <em>La traviata<\/em> and <em>Otello<\/em>, as well. Given Verdi\u2019s inclination toward the tragic, things tend not to go well for his operatic daughters. And, as my own daughter has pointed out to me, it\u2019s mostly their fathers\u2019 fault. The fathers interfere in the love lives of these young women in a way that winds up getting people killed: their daughters, themselves, their daughters\u2019 lovers, and anyone else who gets pulled into their (often) well-intentioned but (always) poorly orchestrated plots.<\/p>\n<p>So I have to ask myself, especially today: How can I justify raising my daughter to love an art form that seems to delight in the pain it causes women while all too often letting their abusers go scot-free? (The question gets even more complicated, because, as a man from the working classes, I saw opera as a liberation from the violent, dead-end options for my own future. Opera comforted me in the world I was born to, opened my eyes and ears to a different one, and inspired me to find that different world beyond.)<\/p>\n<p>Exposing my daughter to opera has been a calculated risk. Together we watch, we listen, we discuss. And I\u2019ve discovered that opera\u2019s self-same abusive and violent themes often give my daughter and me a forum in which to talk about issues she (thankfully) otherwise rarely encounters. She recently summed up Rossini\u2019s <em>Barber of Seville<\/em> as being \u201clike all the movies I\u2019m not allowed to see all rolled up into one.\u201d According to her, in opera, \u201call the rules are broken.\u201d Social and cultural taboos are flaunted in this art form, where hundred-piece orchestras back up singers who emphatically repeat things that in the real world would make them repeat offenders.<\/p>\n<p>But honestly, my concerns are not those Socrates worries about in <em>The\u00a0Republic<\/em>. Namely, that theater is dangerous because it gives impressionable youths bad role models. Crazy gods, weeping heroes, patricides, matricides, infanticides\u2014O. seems to readily grasp the difference between her world and the operatic world. To begin with, the operatic one is bigger. It is what Herbert Lindenberger memorably calls an \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.amazon.co.uk\/Opera-Extravagant-Art-Herbert-Lindenberger\/dp\/0801416981\" target=\"_blank\">extravagant art<\/a>.\u201d Or, in O.\u2019s words, \u201cEverything in opera is ten times greater than in real life.\u201d Passion in that world is not like love in ours. \u201cIn opera, everyone is willing to kill for what they want,\u201d she tells me. \u201cIn real life, only a few people are.\u201d<\/p>\n<div id=\"attachment_118948\" style=\"width: 2372px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/180e2325b2ad38ec5730e956d5bd826f.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-118948\" class=\"wp-image-118948 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/180e2325b2ad38ec5730e956d5bd826f.jpg\" width=\"2362\" height=\"1569\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/180e2325b2ad38ec5730e956d5bd826f.jpg 2362w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/180e2325b2ad38ec5730e956d5bd826f-300x199.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/180e2325b2ad38ec5730e956d5bd826f-768x510.jpg 768w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/180e2325b2ad38ec5730e956d5bd826f-1024x680.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-118948\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Deborah Warner\u2019s staging of Purcell\u2019s <em> Dido and Aeneas<\/em>.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>In contexts like the university classroom, I am generally uncomfortable hunting the takeaway in art. There I am constantly vigilant against students who reduce Hamlet to hubris, boil down Austen to her titles, or see little more in <em>Oedipus Rex<\/em> than the moral of \u201cpride goeth \u2026 etcetera.\u201d But there are cases where I cannot resist questioning the moral dimension of certain art forms and certain artists, especially ones that are so seductive, so destructive. Does enjoyment of the <em>Ring<\/em> cycle insidiously <a href=\"https:\/\/www.amazon.co.uk\/Wagners-Cycle-Greeks-Cambridge-Studies\/dp\/0521517397\/ref=sr_1_sc_1?s=books&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1511960048&amp;sr=1-1-spell&amp;keywords=wagers+ring+cycle+and+the+greeks\" target=\"_blank\">lead us toward intolerance<\/a>? Does Stephen Foster\u2019s \u201cOh! Susanna\u201d tempt us to <a href=\"http:\/\/www.whatitmeanstobeamerican.org\/identities\/how-alpine-yodeling-mutated-into-american-blackface-minstrelry\/\" target=\"_blank\">sentimentalize out of existence the horrors of slavery<\/a>?<\/p>\n<p>In our discussions of these issues, O. sometimes comes up with some rather interesting morals for her favorite operas. For <em>Aida<\/em>, it\u2019s:\u00a0\u201cDon\u2019t make enemies that are high up.\u201d For <em>Carmen<\/em>, it used to be: \u201cDon\u2019t fall in love with random people.\u201d But, now ten years old, and with a keen interest in other games of power, she recently likened the killing of Carmen to chess: \u201cYou sometimes have to sacrifice something to get something you want more.\u201d In a painfully prescient definition of abuse, Don Jose, she explains, kills his queen for total control.<\/p>\n<p>Critics like Cl\u00e9ment have long seen operatic music as a way to sugarcoat the very bitter pill of plots designed to abuse and kill women. In its most brutally brief definition, opera is posh snuff porn where women die at the height of climax. And yet, as scholars like <a href=\"https:\/\/press.princeton.edu\/titles\/4804.html\" target=\"_blank\">Carolyn Abbate<\/a> and <a href=\"http:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/books\/99\/10\/03\/nnp\/clement-undoing.html\" target=\"_blank\">Paul Robinson<\/a> have pointed out, we tend to remember not how divas expire but how they express themselves. True, operatic music may be read as the seductive siren song of the patriarchy. But it can also be read as an aural revolt against men. The female voice can breach, overcome, and triumph over male voices, and over the orchestra, the libretto, the plot\u2014over everything. The music itself sides with women, with their voices, and encourages their passion even in the face of difficulty and defeat.<\/p>\n<p>As she dies, Dido sings one of the most poignant lines in all of opera: \u201cRemember me, but forget my fate.\u201d And so we do. We remember her aria, not the little man who wronged her and left her to die. We forget the bonfire of the vanities that engulfs her body in the end, and retain her incandescent voice shining down the years. And that is what I hope will inspire my daughter: to see that she, too, can make herself heard above the noise of petty plots designed to silence her.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>Daniel H. Foster teaches music, theater, and literature at the\u00a0University of East Anglia\u00a0and is the author of\u00a0<\/em>Wagner\u2019s\u00a0Ring\u00a0Cycle and the Greeks<em>. His work has appeared in the <\/em>Huffington Post<em>, <\/em>Smithsonian<em>\u2019s What it Means to Be American series, and <\/em>Z\u00f3calo Public Square<em>.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; These days, we hear soloists, ensembles, and choruses of women singing out against abusers. But the courage expressed by these female choirs has made me question my enjoyment of another kind of music. I\u2019m talking, of course, about opera. In this modern moment, it\u2019s difficult not to hear opera as the highly aestheticized echo [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1330,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[419],"tags":[3695,32018,31167,32013,32014,32020,7123,32017,32015,32019,32016,3693],"class_list":["post-118946","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-arts-culture","tag-aida","tag-barber-of-seville","tag-carmen","tag-catherine-clement","tag-francesco-rosi","tag-herbert-lindenberger","tag-la-traviata","tag-otello","tag-rigoletto","tag-rossini","tag-simon-boccanegra","tag-verdi"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.4 (Yoast SEO v25.4) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Opera in a Post-Weinstein World<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"How do you answer when your three-year-old daughter asks, \u201cIf Don Jose loves Carmen so much, why does he kill her?\u201d\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2017\/12\/05\/opera-post-weinstein-world\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Opera in a Post-Weinstein World by Daniel Foster\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"December 5, 2017 \u2013 &nbsp; These days, we hear soloists, ensembles, and choruses of women singing out against abusers. 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