Thursday, February 25, 2016

Women of Influence: Then and Now


By Kelly Tweeddale

Like many, I have a longstanding fascination with Mary, Queen of Scots. It began with a compulsory junior high school essay on the Scottish Queen, and led to my visit, in 2000, to Edinburgh Castle—which houses many interesting artifacts of Mary and was the birthplace of her son, who eventually became King James I of England.

The Mary I have come to know is of course more nuanced than her dramatic counterpart. In Seattle Opera's production, you will see a Mary characterized both as a scheming, plotting, and treasonous cousin to Elizabeth I and as a displaced monarch trying to reclaim her birthright after moving from one dysfunctional relationship to another. But you won’t see the woman who, during her 19-year imprisonment, championed her ladies-in-waiting and took up knitting, creating worsted undergarments, pious head coverings, and stockings (which reportedly she knit for her own beheading).

Donizetti rightly knew which Mary would make for good theater. What could be better than two dueling queens singing bel canto opera for revenge, power, and love?

Joyce El-Khoury as Mary Stuart. Jacob Lucas photo
Still, we can’t help but look at Mary and Elizabeth through a modern lens. Today, the Puget Sound Business Journal gives “Women of Influence” awards to honorees who have used their positions of power to make a difference in their organizations and their communities, while mentoring colleagues to do the same. Were Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots the “women of influence” of their time?

By modern standards, neither monarch was allowed to make independent decisions informed by her own accomplishments, education, or experience. Stature was endowed by bloodline and birthright, and both women were surrounded and often muted or manipulated by male consorts, advisors, emissaries, and strategists. Power was often lost or gained through marital alliances, the ability to bear an heir, and the public’s attitude toward a monarch’s chosen religion. Rather than mentor her fellow monarch (and cousin), Elizabeth considered Mary’s existence a threat, a potential obstacle to Elizabeth’s reign. Elizabeth’s refusal to recognize Mary as her successor built enough political muscle for Elizabeth to rally armies and wage war.

In their dramatic face-off—something of a catfight over the same men and crown—they express emotions historically attributed to women such as piety, compassion, empathy, jealousy and envy. As represented in the opera, both Mary and Elizabeth are still icons of a male-dominated power system
Mary Elizabeth Williams (Elizabeth I) and Joyce El-Khoury (Mary Stuart). Philip Newton photo

Does either woman rise above being a political puppet? The men are the strategists and ultimately the catalysts that propel the action forward. Historians still debate whether Elizabeth was presented with valid evidence before her final decision, but in the opera, pressure from the male characters compels Elizabeth to sign the execution order. Mary’s execution is carried out and Elizabeth emerges as a historical monarch much admired for her “masculine” intelligence.

Is the trajectory for women of influence today markedly improved? As a woman who has built a career to the top leadership position, I’d like to give an adamant “yes,” but I can’t do so without reservation or reflection. Yes, in North America and Europe, women have progressed to a level where they can use their intellect, experience, leadership, and skill to compete successfully at any level. Yet women are still often evaluated, compensated, and measured on a primarily male archetypal scale. Even today, in our current countdown to the next U.S. presidential election, the female candidates are often referred to by their first names (i.e., Hillary or Carly) while the male candidates are referred to by surnames (i.e., Sanders or Trump), a linguistic practice that lends more prestige and importance to the males than the females. It is still common to find coverage that focuses on what women leaders are wearing, whether they have changed their hairstyle, and what their physical demeanor is while men are described in terms of their decisions, outcomes, and performance. Countless studies have shown that men are perceived to be more successful on the merits of their actions alone regardless of likability, while women must first appear likable before the merits of the same actions are perceived as equally successful.

Joyce El-Khoury as Mary Stuart. Jacob Lucas photo. 
Even playing field? Not yet, but the tide may be changing. I have experienced a camaraderie among women leaders that is both empowering and transformative. Their influence, by creating an open forum for questions and debate, is unparalleled in history and quite different from the influence of their male counterparts. I’d like to think that perhaps Elizabeth kept Mary’s execution at bay for so long because deep down she saw something of herself in Mary’s situation. Perhaps in a different world, Elizabeth would have had an inner cabinet of both men and women giving her input, giving credence to intuitive skill as well as the political freedom to make a different and less predictable decision. Perhaps Mary would have used her influence to forge alliances that were less about regaining power and more about keeping the peace. And in a perfect world, having suitors or heirs or neither would have no bearing on a woman’s power, every religion would have a place, each person would succeed on his/her own merits, and capital punishment would be a relic of the past.

But if you’re an opera-lover, these changes would leave a big void in the repertoire. So, for now, let’s praise the different influence at work in Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda: that of fiction that puts two historical figures (who never really met) in the same place at the same time, allowing a modern audience to re-imagine history and breathe new life into these fascinating women, as they compete with a musical line that transcends reality. This reinterpretation not only makes for a good story, but a provocative night in the theater.
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Kelly Tweeddale worked for Seattle Opera for 15 years and was executive director of Seattle Opera from 2003 to 2016. In 2011, she was selected by the Puget Sound Business Journal as a Woman of Influence. She is now President of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.




Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Aidan Lang introduces Donizetti's Tudor Queens

Seattle Opera’s General Director Aidan Lang introduces an intensely powerful operatic tragedy which is new to our company this season. Listen to or read this downloadable podcast to learn more about this intriguing opera, the fascinating real-world inspirations for its characters, and the artists who will be bringing it to life in Seattle.


I’m Aidan Lang, General Director of Seattle Opera. Following on from The Marriage of Figaro we have Maria Stuarda or Mary Stuart as we are calling it here, by Donizetti.

Operas get planned some time in advance; but by one of those quirks of happy fortune, all matters Tudor seem to be all the vogue at the moment on television with The Tudors and Reign and Wolf Hall. So we seem to be quite current in programming Mary Stuart at this time. Why are they popular today? There’s always been a vogue for historical drama; but Tudor history was, to put it mildly, complicated. With all the nefarious goings-on, the murders, the assassinations, the executions, there is a delicious bloodthirstiness. They feed to our sense of delight in all things horrific, but it’s codified in some way by being within a historical context. But politics doesn’t really change. Yes, our politicians don’t assassinate their rivals; but a lot of our drama today is premised on those extremes—stories of extreme passion and extreme motivation.

So this is an opera whose genesis is history—real historical characters onstage—filtered through a play by Schiller, where the climactic scene is something which we know historically did not happen. Despite Mary’s requests, Elizabeth never granted an interview with her. So the two characters never met. And then, filtered through an Italian composer, which inevitably brings in a level of emotion which conditions our response.

Does it matter that this piece is ultimately historically inaccurate and yet it is a historical opera? I don’t think it does. The historical details don’t matter because we are not doing history. History is complex and doesn’t make cogent drama. The history is fascinating; but if we tried to tell it, it would leave the complexity of Figaro far behind. So we get important historical details, like the Babington plot (in which Mary was compromised, the plot to assassinate Elizabeth). It’s just thrown away almost in a one liner. It’s not that Donizetti’s audience knew their Tudor history; but the intensity of: “Ah, remember the Babington plot!” is enough to spur them to understand that something happened.

You don’t go to the theater for a history lesson; you have a sense of the murkiness of Tudor politics, an intuitive feeling for the importance of the events without the need to know the historical detail. The combination of truth, of strong drama serving up a political debate, filtered by introducing an emotional level, which opera inevitably does, gives us a beautiful fusion.