Insights on Opera in Film and Television
By Priya Radhakrishnan
As we begin a new year in lockdown contemplating what the months ahead look like, my time spent attending live opera seems like a distant memory. Personally, this has been a time for me to engage with music and drama in ways I had never done before. Surprisingly, I have experienced the emotional recollections, connection, spontaneity and turmoil opera has to offer from the comfort of my studio flat through my various streaming subscriptions. Opera in film and TV struck a chord with me long before I ever had my first music lesson and continues to do so.
The marriage of opera and film seems blatantly obvious considering the historical roots of film as a genre and the emotional affordance they offer but what particularly piques my interest is when my favourite arias appear in the most unexpected places. I distinctly remember, while watching my first staged opera at 16 years old, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tom and Jerry which I hadn’t watched for years. Then it hit me! Watching Barber of Seville at the Metropolitan Opera in New York took me back in time to an episode of the cartoon which is underscored by themes from the opera where each character portrays a different interpretation of Figaro’s cleverness and ingenuity. In this one show about a mischievous cat and crafty mouse were countless references to the classical and operatic canon which stayed in my memory.
Modern cinema is once again embracing operatic soundtracks to heighten the dramatic experience of the viewer, this time using well known classical themes to evoke timeless emotional responses to contemporary visual material. There is something nostalgic about opera that distances us from reality so when we watch a movie or TV show for the first time, we are overcome with a feeling of familiarity that keeps us coming back for more. For instance, the final instalment of the Godfather trilogy, Godfather III, is subtly underscored by an the equally melodramatic Sicilian vendetta opera, Cavlleria Rusticana. The opera itself briefly features during a scene set in the Teatro de Palermo and the music perfectly underscores Michael Corleone’s memories throughout the trilogy with his scream in the finale being magnificently muted by Mascagni’s “Intermezzo”.
Upon reflection, my cinematic experience is amplified by my love for opera but looking beyond my own backyard, perhaps this is the way the generations to come will keep opera and classical music alive and loved. The notion that opera is a dying art form is untrue in many ways, but the popularity of the genre in mainstream entertainment makes a poignant argument that opera will continue to excite and delight, even in the most unexpected scenarios. While I wait for opera houses to reopen safely, I will continue to enjoy the heart wrenching sounds of La Traviatta in Pretty Woman, and the delightful spectacle of Homer Simpson emulating Placido Domingo in La Boheme, all from the comfort of my home thanks to the genius of filmmakers who have picked up the baton passed on by the greatest opera composers known to us.
Hamilton - a milestone in operatic history?
By Priya Radhakrishnan
What is it about the bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scottsman that turned the world upside down? Hamilton has made its way into theatres, homes and even classrooms as an educational and indeed, political tool. I would venture the idea that Hamilton is truly modern opera because of its political nature and elements like the use of rap and hip hop which were and still are revolutionary cultural symbols. Social factors aside, looking at narrative elements in the story, there is a line that can be drawn through centuries of opera history that generates a very broad formula for telling stories about a historical past. Samuel Berner identified some major themes in absolutist literature which had direct bearing on the political interpretation of another opera that made history, albeit some 400 years ago - Monteverdi’s Orfeo. I believe there are philosophical parallels that can be drawn with Berner’s theories and Miranda’s Hamilton despite being so far removed in chronology and geography.
Firstly, Berner observed the proliferation of honorific titles and the antiquity of the ruling dynasty as expressed by the prologue lauding the Gonzaga and links to assertions of heroism and virtue of the ruling family. The opening song of Hamilton is a summary of Alexander Hamilton’s childhood struggle and his vision to revolutionise America. Berner’s second postulate is to do with the distancing of his prince from his subjects depicting the Bildung or the education through experience of a beloved, accessible, admired prince who later is dominated by his own emotions and experience and must sever intimate ties with his subjects to achieve his political ambition. In a fundamentally similar manner to Orfeo, Hamilton also experiences this journey from accolades and admiration to turmoil due to his choices and actions. In the second act, upon facing threats from Jefferson accusing him of speculation of government funds and threatening to expose his extramarital affair. Hamilton decides to go public with his illicit relations with Maria Reynolds so that him and his party can save face (sound familiar?), causing the republicans to taunt him with cries of “he’s never gonna be President now!”. In Orfeo and Hamilton this is the peak moment of anxiety, and more compelling a moment where the fourth wall is broken, blurring the distinction between performer and audience, and between political leader and his subjects.
The conclusion to Orfeo is often considered problematic and to be glorifying absolutism, which is Berner’s third theory emphasising on the prince and ministers as key to government operations. But this ending perhaps is essential because it invites us as an audience to criticise the world around us, through the force of spectacle. In Hamilton, the spectacle directly confronts the audience when they see a racially diverse cast dressed in Victorian garb rapping and break-dancing. This visual display is complemented by moments of subtlety which are overwhelmingly striking. One of my personal favourites is Christopher Jackson’s (George Washington) bowing his head ever so slightly when Philippa Soo belts “I raised funds in D.C for the Washington monument” to signify the shameful legacy Washington still commands as he owned slaves and never fought for their liberation. Miranda revolutionised the story of the founding of America in such a way that led to the memorialising of political leaders and their actions in a post-modernist sense as people who had complex lives, ambitions and reasons for what they did. He attempts to reclaim American history from the white men who created it on behalf of a multicultural generation whom he seeks to represent.
Hamilton is not an anomaly due to its mainstream success, but a milestone in contemporary operatic history. Love it or hate it, it can’t be denied that this hip hopera has struck up a dozen dialogues about art, history, race, politics and how we tell our stories. Contemporary opera gives us a unique way of looking at the world around us and questioning - “why?”
News - September 2020
It’s only September and yet enough has happened in 2020 to fill the history books. For the performing arts, everything has suddenly changed for so many people with virtual events becoming more and more normalised. Here at Oxford Contemporary Opera we have had a long, hard think about what we can do to contribute something positive to the current situation, which is why we are holding a series of talks across October - December with many inspirational people from the opera industry.
In other news we are also recruiting for a new team to join us and pave the way for our projects for 2020/21. If you are interested in joining us please fill out this Google Form.
We, like so many others, are determined to keep the arts alive one way or another whilst remaining safe, sensible and sensitive to our surroundings.
Welcome to the Chorus
By Priya Radhakrishnan
In this time of self-isolation and quarantine, what better than to start an opera blog with a snippet on opera choruses! A chorus differs from a choir because their role extends beyond just singing the music to dramatic responsibilities - they are part of the story and the scenery. A great advantage of opera over spoken theatre is that the chorus brings “the people” on stage - the drama of Enlightenment liberalism demanded unified and organised voices to create a transformational effect.
In the 19th century, opera became a mainstream feature of commercial theatre, but freedom was not unconditional. Authorities feared a large chorus on stage representing the ‘voice of the people’ if it looked too much like a mob, potentially sparking political tension. Following the French Revolution, that’s exactly what opera did, with political struggle becoming the central theme of many operas; growing choruses were used to heighten the excitement. Modernist directors used the chorus not just to set the scene and further the protagonist’s narrative but to represent their inner thoughts, turmoils and apprehensions. Using a chorus that behaves in weird, twisted or immoral ways only highlights the virtuous morality of the hero. A happy chorus may also be the sign of a tragedy looming around the corner.
Watch The Bell Chorus from Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci. The chorus plays a troupe of actors who have just arrived in Calabria and are waiting for the vespers to begin while inviting the romance of the evening. Their joyful demeanour sets the scene of carefree town life and vocalising the bells makes them part of the story and not mere storytellers.
If you fancy revelling in more opera grandeur check out our Spotify playlist of famous opera choruses!