A fond farewell to Aidan Lang

Aidan Lang photo by Philip Newton

Members of the Seattle Opera staff share funny stories, fond memories, and words of gratitude for a man who's been a truly awesome boss, friend, mentor, listener, fearless leader, and innovative thinker. Tomorrow, June 21, is Lang's last day at Seattle Opera before departing to become the next leader of Welsh National Opera. ( "Some of you know that Welsh National Opera holds a special place in my heart. It is where my career in opera began. I consider WNO to be my artistic home—the only company for which I would even consider departing the Pacific Northwest."). During Aidan's six years here, Seattle Opera increased its audiences, particularly, young people, created a new civic home for opera at Seattle Center, introduced new chamber opera productions in locations around the city, and spurred complex conversations surrounding race, justice, and representation. 

A letter to the Community From Aidan

Aidan Lang; photo by Philip Newton.

To the Seattle Opera community,

I am writing to share some bittersweet news. My time with you in Seattle will come to an end this June 2019, as I have been appointed as General Director of Welsh National Opera. This decision has not come lightly as I love dearly both this community and opera company. Coming to Seattle Opera was one of the greatest honors of my life and I am still absolutely thrilled to have had created opera with you. Seattle Opera is known around the world for its enthusiastic and generous opera community, for its warmth and welcoming atmosphere for artists, and more recently, for our commitment to racial equity.

Some of you know that Welsh National Opera holds a special place in my heart. It is where my career in opera began. I consider WNO to be my artistic home—the only company for which I would even consider departing the Pacific Northwest.

We have accomplished much at Seattle Opera in the past five years, and I’m so very grateful to you. With your help, Seattle Opera has increased its audiences, particularly, young people, created a new civic home for opera at Seattle Center, introduced new chamber opera productions in locations around the city, and spurred complex conversations surrounding race, justice, and representation.

Many people who are new to Seattle or people visiting the area stop me at McCaw Hall to say how well we have done with bringing younger audiences into the opera house. They assure me (and I agree), this is not the case elsewhere in the US, and they worry about the future of opera in their cities. Young people in this city want to see opera and we should be proud of the fact that 40 percent of our ticket buyers are younger than age 50, a huge increase in the last four years. The future of opera in Seattle is bright.

In the meantime, the Seattle Opera Board of Trustees will soon appoint a search committee to identify the next General Director, who will carry out our mission and vision. Following my departure, Seattle Opera will will continue its commitment to being an equity leader in the opera industry, and among arts institutions in the Pacific Northwest and beyond.

I look forward to greeting you at McCaw Hall again soon, and enjoying the next ten months in this great city.

With gratitude,

Aidan

AIDAN LANG INTRODUCES AIDA

Listen to or read this downloadable podcast by General Director Aidan Lang introducing Seattle Opera's upcoming production of Aida. Lang debunks some of the myths attached to Verdi’s masterpiece, explores the complicated genesis and nationality of the opera, and explains how Verdi’s musical representation of patriotism evolved over the course of his lifelong experience of Italian unification. Aida plays at Seattle Opera for nine performances, May 5-19.

Hello, everyone, it’s Aidan Lang here, this time of course I’m talking about our next production, which is Verdi’s Aida.

It is an immensely popular piece. Why is that? I think the scale is number one. The fact that it is a grand opera, in many ways the grandest of grand operas, is very attractive. It’s not often we get to see operas of that scale. That’s a key to the popularity.

AIDAN LANG INTRODUCES BEATRICE & BENEDICT

Listen to or read this downloadable podcast by General Director Aidan Lang. To kick off Seattle Celebrates Shakespeare, we're proud to offer our first-ever opera by Hector Berlioz: Beatrice and Benedict, an operatic amplification of Much Ado About Nothing. Conducted by Seattle Symphony's Ludovic Morlot and directed by ACT Theatre's John Langs, this one-of-a-kind, all-new and all-Seattle production plays for only seven performances, February 24-March 10.

Hello, everyone, it's Aidan Lang here, and this time I'm here to talk about Berlioz's Beatrice and Benedict.

AN OPERA AND COMPOSER NEW TO US

We do like to give our audiences in every season one opera they've never seen before. This is the first time not only that Seattle Opera will be performing Beatrice, but also an opera by Berlioz.

AIDAN LANG INTRODUCES COSÌ FAN TUTTE

Listen to or read this downloadable podcast by General Director Aidan Lang. Così fan tutte, the ultimate operatic mash-up of buffa & seria, thought vs. feeling, Mozart's heartfelt music and Da Ponte's cynical words, returns to Seattle this winter (seven performances, January 13-27). Aidan introduces this fascinating opera and the ever-contemporary production which now returns, updated for 2018, to our city.

Hello, everyone, it's Aidan Lang here, and today I'm here to talk about Così fan tutte, our next opera!

Così fan tutte is always classified as a comedy, but as always with comedy, the old adage that it's the most serious art form was never truer than it is with this piece. It's a piece which delves very deeply into our psyche and into human behavior. Built into it are ideas and topics which are very germane to the lives we lead today and the society we have today.

This production is a revival of the production which was mounted here back in 2006 by the acclaimed director, Dr. Jonathan Miller. Jonathan said that "Così fan tutte is not about fidelity. It's about identity, and what happens when you put on a disguise." And I think there's an awful lot of truth in that.

AIDAN LANG and LINDY HUME Introduce THE BARBER OF SEVILLE

In this downloadable podcast stage director and Rossini specialist Lindy Hume discusses Rossini's beloved Barber of Seville with General Director Aidan Lang. Listen to Aidan, who’s British, and Lindy, who’s Australian, share their enthusiasm for this delightful and outrageous comedy, coming to Seattle October 2017 in a colorful new production from Lindy's home company, Opera Brisbane.

Photo of Lindy in rehearsal with Lawrence Brownlee by Genevieve Hathaway.

AIDAN LANG INTRODUCES MADAME BUTTERFLY

Listen to or read this downloadable podcast by General Director Aidan Lang. Puccini’s powerful Madame Butterfly returns to Seattle this August (eight performances, August 5-19). Aidan considers Madame Butterfly Puccini’s greatest tragedy and, in this podcast, explains both its human story and its anti-imperialist indictment of the politics of colonialism.

Hello, everyone! This is Aidan Lang, and here I am again to talk about our summer opera, which is Puccini’s Madame Butterfly.

Madame Butterfly is, according to those lists of ‘most-performed operas,’ always in the top three most-performed operas in any given year around the world. That’s perfectly understandable: it has everything on the surface which an opera needs. It has romance, it has tragedy, it has incredibly beautiful music, and it’s normally depicted in a very attractive, visually appealing fashion.

AIDAN LANG INTRODUCES THE MAGIC FLUTE

Listen to or read this downloadable podcast by General Director Aidan Lang. Mozart's beloved Magic Flute returns to Seattle this May (nine performances through May 21). Aidan explains the powerful appeal of this great masterpiece and the difference between good and great productions of The Magic Flute.

Hi, everyone! It’s Aidan Lang here, and I’m going to speak to you about Mozart’s Magic Flute, Die Zauberflöte.

Magic Flute is always in those lists of “the most popular operas,” which are really lists of the operas most performed. Why is that? I think it’s ‘cause it’s got something for everyone. Part of its appeal is it’s a very large cast, which keeps its interest going; it’s going a strong, if somewhat diverse storyline; I mean, it’s a hard storyline to encapsulate! But you are engaged, always, in terms of what’s going to happen next, and that’s a great appeal for people. The variety of its music is also so important. It traverses a number of different styles, from the simple, almost folk-like tunes given to Papageno, which is very much symptomatic of the sort of music which was performed in a Singspiel; and then music of huge sophistication, in the arias, say, of Tamino and Pamina; the vocal fireworks of both of the Queen of the Nights arias; and the beautiful, somber gravitas of the music for the priests and Sarastro. So there’s massive variety in this work, of style, of tone, which is not just to do with the storyline, it’s baked into this particular form called Singspiel. At the end of the day I think its popularity is based on the fact that it’s got so much going for it. It’s got famous musical highlights, and a number of highlights (it’s not just a one-hit wonder at all). As you sit through it you’ll go, “Oh, my goodness me!” and “Oh, it’s that one,” and “Oh, that;” they keep coming. And I think that’s part of its appeal. It has everything right. It’s got extraordinary music, familiarity of many of the numbers, and also an opera which demands spectacle and it demands visual élan. It’s got it all.

MOZART

What I love about Mozart’s work is, at the end of it all there is forgiveness and humanity and an understanding, not only of human nature, but of human foible.

AIDAN LANG INTRODUCES KATYA KABANOVA

Listen to or read this downloadable podcast by General Director Aidan Lang. Katya Kabanova, the 1921 masterpiece by Leoš Janáček, comes to Seattle for the first time this February (seven performances through March 11). Aidan explains his enthusiasm for the works of this great Czech composer, the themes of Katya Kabanova, and creative process behind our new production.

Hello, everyone, this is Aidan Lang, speaking to you now about Leoš Janáček’s Katya Kabanova.

I’ve often said that Janáček is a wonderful opera composer for first-time opera-goers, and people look at me as if I’m slightly mad on that. The traditional way of thinking is you take a newcomer to Bohème or to Butterfly.

Now, those two are great masterpieces, and are performed all around the world frequently. But for people who are opera-wary, or haven’t experienced an opera, they are likely to come to the theater more informed by the way they digest entertainment through film, through television. And the great advantage of the works of Janáček is they have the sort of directness and the emotional punch that you see today on long-narrative TV and in cinema. A first-timer will find a far more immediate bond with a work like Katya than they would with a more romantically-weighted work like La bohème.

AIDAN LANG INTRODUCES LA TRAVIATA

Listen to or read this downloadable podcast by General Director Aidan Lang. La traviata, Verdi’s immortal song of love and death, comes to Seattle this January as we’ve never seen it before, in a compelling, streamlined production that’s also the US debut of famed German director Peter Konwitschny. Created for the Verdi bicentennial in 2013, Konwitschny’s production has fascinated opera lovers in nine other cities en route to Seattle.

Hello everyone, it’s Aidan Lang here, here to speak to you about La traviata and our forthcoming production which opens on the 14th of January.

AIDAN LANG Introduces HANSEL & GRETEL

Listen to or read this downloadable podcast by General Director Aidan Lang. Hansel & Gretel comes to Seattle this fall in a compelling, whimsical, provocative production which should delight your eyes and ears and stimulate your imagination. French director Laurent Pelly’s contemporary interpretation of this famous German opera premiered at England’s Glyndebourne Festival in 2008, and has been a hit in a number of countries.

Hi, everyone, welcome to the podcast, this is Aidan Lang. Of course Hansel & Gretel is our opera up at the moment, so I’m going to be sharing some thoughts about this piece, a piece which I think has a lot more below than the surface than I think maybe we think from a cursory glance.

AIDAN & LINDY HUME INTRODUCE THE WICKED ADVENTURES OF COUNT ORY

In this downloadable podcast, General Director Aidan Lang discusses The Wicked Adventures of Count Ory—coming to Seattle for the first time this summer, in a brand-new Seattle Opera production—with stage director and Rossini specialist Lindy Hume. Listen to Aidan, who’s British, and Lindy, who’s Australian, share their enthusiasm for this delightful and outrageous comedy—or read this transcription of what they had to say.

Hello, everyone, it’s Aidan Lang here. Normally I do these podcasts on my own, but it’s the first day of rehearsal, there’s a music call going on, so I took Lindy Hume, our wonderful director, out of rehearsal to join me here. Lindy, welcome to Seattle!

Thanks, Aidan! It’s great to be here.

AIDAN LANG Introduces Our FLYING DUTCHMAN

Seattle Opera’s General Director Aidan Lang introduces the opera which first made him a Wagnerite as a small child. Listen to or read this downloadable podcast to learn more about this beloved opera and the grippingly dramatic (and intermissionless!) production which is coming to Seattle.

Welcome, everyone. I’m Aidan Lang, the General Director, speaking to you today on The Flying Dutchman, Der fliegende Holländer.

We started the 15/16 season with Verdi’s young piece, Nabucco, and we’re finishing it, bookending it if you like, with Wagner’s Flying Dutchman. Both pieces were works which really provided the breakthrough for their composers. In the case of Wagner and The Flying Dutchman it marked the first work in which we see opera as being something beyond just storytelling. It’s very interesting to look at The Flying Dutchman from the audience’s point of view: what is your role in the overall evening? This is quite a challenging piece, precisely because it works at many layers beyond simply that of its narrative. The audience has a part to play in the way the piece is interpreted, and that probably means that everybody who sees this production will get something very different out of it, depending on how each individual wants to engage with the work. The audience’s response to a Wagner work has to be more than just working at a narrative level, because he imbued his works with numerous ideas which he expected you, as an audience member, to connect with in some way.

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.

Praise for Figaro

Nuccia Focile (Susanna) and Shenyang (Figaro) in Seattle Opera's The Marriage of Figaro. Philip Newton photo 

"Fast-moving, spontaneous, and cheeky, this is a show with comic verve, but it’s also a show that makes you think. Probing these issues and doing justice to the great Mozartean score requires a terrific ensemble cast, and Seattle Opera has put together two of them." - The Seattle Times

"It's a delightfully engaging take on familiar Figaro: crisp, vividly paced, spiced with youthful charm, visually handsome and original – and culminating in a luminously staged ensemble that does justice to Mozart's vision of reconciliation." - Bachtrack 

"The opening-night show on Saturday boasted the dashing, resonant Figaro of Chinese star Shenyang..." - The Seattle Times 

Karin Mushegain (Cherubino). Philip Newton photo

"Karin Mushegain delivered a charming, imaginatively sung Cherubino," - Bachtrack 

"Lang kept the action in constant motion as his singers fearlessly fondled, threw themselves at each other and traded sexual innuendos ... Lang and his cast’s focus on emotional realism meant the characters were refreshingly three-dimensional, landing some wonderfully poignant moments." -  Queen Anne & Magnolia News

"Vocally, no performance surpasses Bernarda Bobro’s captivating 'Dove sono.' The Countess’ Act 3 lament presents a notorious test that even the loftiest divas approach with trepidation. (A few years back, at her Benaroya Hall recital, soprano Renée Fleming solicited audience suggestions for encores; when someone called out 'Dove sono!', she responded, with a wry half-smile, 'You sing it.') Frighteningly difficult in its simplicity, it’s a tune so clear and pure it exposes the slightest imperfection. Of which there were none thanks to Bobro’s soprano, silvery and fluent—think liquid mercury." - Seattle Weekly 

The Seattle Opera Chorus in The Marriage of Figaro. Philip Newton photo

"The outstanding performances of (this) cast came from the aristo couple. Morgan Smith's warm-voiced Almaviva was intensely likeable and obviously still in love with his wife but frustrated by his inability to control the chaos around him... including that caused by his own libido." - Bachtrack 

"[Nuccia] Focile’s Susanna was both spontaneous and polished in every detail." - The Seattle Times

"All the cast looked great in Elizabeth Whiting’s imaginative clothes, which combined frock coats and denim with high-tops." - The Seattle Times

Caitlin Lynch (Countess Almaviva), Laura Tatulescu (Susanna) and Elizabeth Pojanowski (Cherubino). Philip Newton photo 

"Laura Tatulescu’s feisty Susanna and John Moore’s complex Count were standouts, but keeping right up with them were Caitlin Lynch’s warm-voiced Countess, Aubrey Allicock’s mellifluous and funny Figaro, and Elizabeth Pojanowski’s ardent Cherubino." - The Seattle Times 

"Jonathan Dean’s translated captions, wittily updated, added an extra punch to the dialogue. The chorus, whisked on and off the stage for brief vignettes, sang with spirit." - The Seattle Times 

Caitlin Lunch (Countess Almaviva and John Moore). Photo by Jacob Lucas 

"Philip Kelsey’s fortepiano continuo — just the right instrument, too, a wonderful Anton Walter replica — cleverly knit together the recitatives, arias, and orchestral tuttis into a seamless whole." - The Seattle Times

"Another big plus came from Gary Thor Wedow's alert, vividly shaped conducting. From the Overture he set a tone for sprightly, flexible tempi that were vividly in sync with Lang's stage sensibility. Wedow allowed us to revel in the variety of Mozart's score, from lightning flashes of wit to Sturm und Drang fulminations." - Bachtrack 

"Among the minor roles, Steven Cole as Basilio, an intriguer, makes the biggest impact, bringing him a brilliant character voice, a delicious nasality somewhere between an oboe and Paul Lynde." - Seattle Weekly 

Steven Cole (Don Basilio). Photo by Philip Newton 

Aidan Lang’s Marriage of Figaro Comes to Seattle

Seattle Opera’s General Director Aidan Lang is about to make his Seattle Opera debut as an artist! Lang, who worked as a freelance stage director for many years before becoming an administrator, brings his own New Zealand Opera production of one of his favorite works to Seattle in January. Listen to or read this downloadable podcast to find what Lang thinks about this extraordinary masterpiece and its beloved characters.

For a refresher/overview of The Marriage of Figaro, look at our Seattle Opera Spotlight.

Hello, everyone! So I’m going to be quite busy for about three or four weeks over Christmas, directing The Marriage of Figaro and continuing as General Director of Seattle Opera. But this isn’t the first time I’ve done that; I did it with The Marriage of Figaro in New Zealand when we first did this production in 2010. It’s not something I’m going to replicate in the future. We in the administration get a bit detached from what we’re creating, and so it’s quite salutory, being General Director, to be on the rehearsal floor once again, just to as it were recharge my batteries and to remind us that the art we create is our raison d’être.

How did they like this production of The Marriage of Figaro at its premiere?
I’m glad to say this production went down exceedingly well in New Zealand.

AIDAN LANG On THE PEARL FISHERS

Listen, read, or download our latest podcast, in which Aidan Lang, Seattle Opera's General Director, introduces Bizet's youthful romantic fantasy, The Pearl Fishers. The show opens on October 17, 2015. Lang tells us about the exciting production coming to Seattle and shares his enthusiasm for this work, which has come back into fashion after a century of neglect.

To make great opera, a producer must assign work appropriate to the skills, talents, and interests of the artists. Tell us a little about the team you’ve assembled for this production of The Pearl Fishers.
We had decided to present The Pearl Fishers, and it was a question of choosing which production to bring to Seattle. For me, there was really little debate. There’s a production which dated from 2005, from San Diego, directed by Andrew Sinclair and designed by Zandra Rhodes. What they have brilliantly done between them is find, for want of a better word, a modern take on the ‘exotic’ impact which this piece would have had on its audiences in Paris in 1863. Zandra’s a textile designer. She has translated that not only to wonderful prints and costumes, which give them life and movement, but also taken the same idea of using motifs for the scenery. She’s not the person to go to if you want straightforward realistic scenery. It’s stylized to a certain extent. We’re clearly in Ceylon, and we have trees and everything, but by taking a two-dimensional and very colorful approach, she’s reflecting the sort of scenery which would have been there on Bizet’s stage.

The Pearl Fishers at San Diego Opera
Ken Howard, photo

Color is the key to this production. Loosely speaking, it’s coded; there are blues and green-blues for the pearl-fishing folk, while the priestesses and priests of Brahma are in reds, oranges, yellows. So it’s easy to identify who belongs to what camp. Rhodes’ vibrant use of color creates a visual impact akin to the spectacle which would be a part of The Pearl Fishers for Bizet’s audience.

Zandra Rhodes in Seattle with her Magic Flute costumes
Alan Alabastro, photo

Zandra Rhodes is a figure who absolutely has been at the center of fashion in London for as long as I can remember. In fact, a little story: I had to do a costume element to my university drama degree. I was inept at sewing, and I failed lamentably to create a female costume for a Jacobean tragedy. So I was moved sideways to a student play called PUNK: Would You Let Your Daughter Marry One?” And of course Zandra Rhodes was dubbed “the Princess of Punk” in those late ‘70s, her use of safety pins, so in evolving these costumes for a student play, I was of course echoing Zandra’s work in a bizarre way! In terms of opera, The Magic Flute, which was in San Diego and then here, was her first opera, Pearl Fishers was her second. She likes an opera with an element of fantasy in it. She’s not going to design a piece set in a slum somewhere. She wants something vibrant, that plays to the vibrancy of her designs.

Andrew Sinclair at rehearsal for The Pearl Fishers
Elise Bakketun, photo

Andrew Sinclair and I go back a very long way, because my very earliest job was working on the Ring cycle at Covent Garden in the beginning of the ‘80s, and Andrew was one of my colleagues there. I remember talking with him at great length about Wagner. Andrew is actually Australian, although he’s been at the Garden for many, many, many years, and lives in London. And of course Andrew got to Seattle before I did; he did Marriage of Figaro back in 1989. And of course I’m doing the next Figaro, in a few months’ time, so there’s a nice bridge there as well.

Assistant Choreographer Michael Mizerany rehearses dancers Kyle Bernbach and Eric Esteb, who play stilt fishermen in The Pearl Fishers
Elise Bakketun, photo

Dance is obviously a feature of nineteenth-century French opera. It was essentially mandatory to have a dance element, certainly at the Paris Opéra. And what Andrew has done is encourage dance, maybe more than we’re used to, to suggest the slightly primitive, tribal nature of this community, to add an element of excitement, an extra layer to some of the scenes which might otherwise appear somewhat static. So as I say this one was really the obvious production to bring. It’s been hugely successful, it’s played twelve times throughout the States since it was new. A couple of houses have done it twice, it’s been so popular. I think it really captures the essence of the piece, makes it appropriate to us today, and at the same time completely respects the background to the work and pays homage to its genesis in France in the middle of the nineteenth century.

Emmanuel Joel-Hornak coaching soprano Elizabeth Zharoff at a Pearl Fishers rehearsal
Elise Bakketun, photo

Our conductor, Emmanuel Joel-Hornak, again I’ve known a very, very long time. I gave him what I believe was his debut outside France when he was young—a production at Opera Zuid in Holland of Chabrier’s L’Étoile (a fantastic piece). It was directed by Christopher Alden, who’s coming to Seattle for The Flying Dutchman at the end of the season, and Emmanuel conducted. He’s really an expert in the score of The Pearl Fishers, he’s done it many times. And has an innate understanding of French music. Yes, he’s French, so you feel that should be the case; but it’s not always. Emmanuel really works beautifully with singers, he works beautifully with the orchestra, and this music is in his blood. I know everyone already in rehearsal has loved working with him. So we’ve got a very happy team, putting this show together!

The Pearl Fishers may be set in Ceylon; but this opera is as French as can be. Can you explain what’s so French about it?
Yes, this is a quintessentially French opera. There’s a wonderful saying by Noël Coward about Carmen; he said, “The Carmen of Bizet Is about as Spanish as the Champs-Élysée.” [Say it with a British accent and it rhymes!] And what he meant by that was that Carmen is essentially a French work, not a Spanish work, and the same applies to this, albeit not about Spain. This is not about Ceylon, or Sri Lanka, as we call it today.

French society in the middle of the nineteenth-century was quite straitlaced. But of course we all know, from Traviata, that men had mistresses on the side, courtesans, etc. There was this duality between proper married family status and, expressed in art, repressed emotions and desires and longings and sensuality. So in the second half of the nineteenth century there arose a school which we saw in art, in music, called orientalism. It’s allied with travellers going east, especially to Asia, to Japan and China, but also coupled with what I would term a patronizing attitude to the east. In other words it was deemed fascinating to put the east onstage, or in art; but there was an underlying assumption that western culture, western society, was inherently more ordered and moral. Now, in the mix of the hypocrisy I mentioned, this school of thought provided license, to a very proper society, to put sensuality onstage: it was okay because it wasn’t here, in Paris. It was somewhere else. Sensuality, inherent in the work and the music, is given license by its setting.

Maureen McKay (Leïla) and John Tessier (Nadir) rehearse a scene from The Pearl Fishers
Elise Bakketun, photo

Now, The Pearl Fishers I think doesn’t fit into that school of orientalism, because this piece is not about Ceylon. Bizet wasn’t writing a piece about the conflict between east and west, which you see in Lakmé, for example, set in imperial India. Probably the best parallel to today would be the way we put sci-fi onstage, or modern fantasy. To get that sense of something different, something otherworldly. And what our production does is capture that element of the fantastic by not putting realistic scenery or costumes onstage, but instead giving us a stylized version.

An example of how French it is, for me, comes with the hymn to Brahma at the end of Acts 1 and 2, where in fact, Bizet rehashed music from a Te Deum. For Seattle Opera's 2009 The Pearl Fishers, Gerard Schwarz conducted the chorus and orchestra of Seattle Opera.
It’s is about as Eastern as the music you’d hear in Nôtre Dame cathedral. There’s no pretense at making Ceylonese music in any way, shape, or form. This is French music, expressing that quintessentially French fusion of religion with desire: a chaste priestess, being longed after by two men. I don’t think we take it seriously. It would be more shocking if she were a nun in a Catholic church. Bizet didn’t want to go there; that would be dangerous. This way, it’s safe, and yet provides a frisson of this little battle between desire and propriety.

Bizet never had much success while he was alive, and because of his early death we have no idea what else he might have accomplished. How would you describe his legacy?
The Pearl Fishers is an early piece which actually was very successful with its audiences but not with its critics, with the glorious exception of Berlioz, who saw its virtues, especially orchestrally. And Carmen of course wasn’t a success, because it was daring and original and it was put in the wrong theater. And then Bizet died. In a way he was ahead of his time. For a young man, he writes music not only of incredible beauty but also fluidity and harmonic daring. When I listen to The Pearl Fishers I find little harmonic twists which flick me to moments in Carmen. Sometimes critics are unforgiving of young people when they write a clearly impressive piece. Bizet was only 24 when he wrote this. He wasn’t around long enough to create a huge volume of works. His originality may have held him back. And of course he was criticized for being under the influence of Wagner, which I think was unfair. He was misunderstood. And yet he was his own voice, and one of the great composers of opera, albeit with a small output. I think his early death is a tragedy for the art form, because he would have gone on to great things.

Melody is a really, really important part of The Pearl Fishers. ‘Beauty’ is the key word for this score; there’s a lyricism, an unending use of melody, which makes the evening just fly past, in musical terms. There’s a gorgeous tenor aria for Nadir; “Comme autrefois,” the beautiful aria for Leïla; even Zurga’s monologue in Act Three has great tenderness.

It puzzles me, how the piece got written off as being rather second-rate for many years. Yes, its plot is slightly formulaic. But the characterization is very interesting. It doesn’t have a big cast list—essentially it’s about three people, who must sustain the entire drama. And yet there’s real nuance to the idea of friendship and the betrayal of friendship; the longing, bordering on obsession, for this unattainable vision of beauty these guys have shared and have then rejected, resolved not to compromise their friendship. Psychologically, it’s actually a very sophisticated setup. Andrew Sinclair was telling me in rehearsals he’s been really delighted the singers are bringing nuance and complexity to their characters. Think about that whole situation: it’s more than black and white, it exists in a shade of grey. It’s a much more subtle piece than it was given credit for. And of course we have two casts, and Andrew was saying already there are differences between those two casts.

The Pearl Fishers’ ‘Friendship’ duet is only one of many such duets in French opera. Why is this piece so popular?
With the famous duet—known around the world as “The Pearl Fishers duet”—we have one of the great hit tunes of the entire repertoire. William Burden and Brett Polegato sang The Pearl Fishers' Duet at Seattle Opera in 2014, with Carlo Montanaro conducting the chorus and orchestra of Seattle Opera.
But what interests me about its use in the opera is how the melody comes back as what the French call an idée fixe, an obsession. So when the thought of the friendship or the pact emerges, you’ll hear that tune, or just a small part of it, in the orchestra, often just in the flute. It’s a Wagnerian technique, which may have been a source of its criticism. It’s a subtle technique which reminds us of the dramatic idea without requiring the singers to sing the melody again, as might have been done in lesser hands: you know, “Here’s the big tune, let’s milk it for all it’s worth!” Bizet’s is a more delicate approach. The tune is so strong, I’m sure Bizet’s audiences went wild when they heard it.

The opera hinges on this male friendship, rather than hinging on a relationship between a man and a woman, normally the tenor and the soprano. Of course the soprano is in the mix there, but it’s an interesting re-alignment; male friendship is valued as highly, if not given a more elevated status, than the conventional male-female love relationship. That’s certainly not the model of standard Italian opera, and it gives this opera its particular tone. Pearl fishing is actually a very dangerous act: people die. That’s why they need continual votive prayers going on for their safety. So underpinning this piece, which as I said is very delicate, there’s this macho element: the men are out there getting the pearls, doing their job to provide for their community. And Nadir is a hunter, you know, going out to bring the food back to the village. Italian operas aren’t built on this kind of male bonding; they are built on hetereosexual attraction. Again, maybe this is why The Pearl Fishers lost popularity for a while. It is unconventional in that respect.

Tell us a little about the two casts you’ve assembled for this production.
We have a number of debutants in this production. Maureen McKay, who’s singing Leïla, and Elizabeth Zharoff, who’s our alternate cast Leïla, are both making Seattle Opera debuts, although both have local connections: Maureen was a Young Artist here, from 2004 through 2006, and Elizabeth was born in Wenatchee, so two nice little homecomings in our two Leïlas. Our two Nadirs are John Tessier, last with us in the Zandra Rhodes Magic Flute and in Fidelio; and Anthony Kalil, making his debut. We have two baritones singing Zurga: Brett Polegato is no stranger to our stage, and Keith Phares was one of the Marcellos in Bohème a few years ago. And our two Nourabads, Jonathan Lemalu and Joo Won Kang, are both making debuts. Jonathan of course I know, not only from New Zealand, but actually I’ve known him for many years indeed when he was just starting out, when he did a wonderful recital for me when I ran the Buxton Festival in 2000. He’s an artist I’ve really enjoyed seeing develop over the years, so it’s very nice to feature him in this production. So it’s a small cast, but we’ve really got two super groups of singers lined up for you, regardless of which night you choose to attend.

AIDAN LANG ON NABUCCO

Listen by clicking 'Play' above, download this podcast HERE, or read a transcript, below.

Aidan Lang is beginning his first full season as solo General Director of Seattle Opera—and he’s out of the gate with an exciting experiment, a bold new production of an opera Seattle has never before heard: Verdi’s early monumental epic Nabucco. The production, currently in rehearsal, will be something of a cross between a Shakespeare play and a rock concert, aimed at presenting this overwhelmingly powerful Bible story to its best advantage. Lang told us a bit about the opera and the rationale behind the production, which he hopes will create the sizzling connection between stage and audience so vital in Verdi’s theater.

Nabucco is new to Seattle Opera. What’s it about?
It’s a Biblical story, a setting of the story of Nebuchadnezzar. The opera tells of an invading king of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar, who sacks Jerusalem and then has a conversion to the Hebrew faith, and the opera ends with a positive outcome.

Unusually for a Verdi opera, Nabucco has a happy ending (from a Judeo-Christian perspective). What’s the moral of the story here?
Nabucco is saved from his madness by a realization of the price he’s paying—that his daughter will be executed along with the Hebrew people. He returns from his madness and converts to the Hebrew God. Is that the point of the opera? I think it’s really about hubris. The key moment is at the end of the second act, when he declares: “I am not king, I am God!” and then gets struck by a thunderbolt for his pains. The point is that man has his place. If he overrides that, there’s a price to pay: the life of his beloved daughter.

But more interestingly Nabucco introduces themes which prevail throughout Verdi’s work, particularly the relationships between fathers and daughters. He always writes father-daughter relationships, and he didn’t have a daughter himself. And there’s huge tenderness, the fathers to their daughters. I have a daughter myself, so I guess I relate to that! Rigoletto is the best example. If you compare, say, the relationship of Rigoletto to Gilda to that of Germont and Alfredo in Traviata, it’s clear that Germont is thinking about his daughter, not about his son. There’s something really strange going on here, and I think it may be that the intensity of the feeling is precisely because it’s a feeling Verdi didn’t have himself and wanted.

Tell us about Nabucco and his two daughters.
In the case of Fenena, what’s quite interesting is that she’s an independent spirit. She converts to the Hebrew faith ahead of Nabucco’s conversion at the end. So she goes her own way; she allows her feelings to lead her, even if it means effectively being led to her death, dying for her faith, which is part of the spur for Nabucco’s conversion himself.

The other side is Abigaille, and here we see a direct parallel with King Lear: lust for the throne and children who defy their father, much like Goneril, Regan, and Edmund in King Lear. And Nabucco’s madness, which is the result, is obviously a match for Lear as well.

Let’s talk about Nabucco and Italian politics.
Verdi was intensely interested in politics and an apostle for the cause of Italian unification, which wasn’t going to occur until the early 1870s, so thirty years after this piece. “Va, pensiero” became a sort of unofficial national anthem for the Risorgimento, the move for Italian independence away from the rule of the Austrian empire. And after this opera Verdi’s name itself became an acronym for the cause; V-E-R-D-I meant “Victor Emmanuel, Re d’Italia,” Victor Emmanuel, King of Italy. So this piece has always been inextricably linked with the Risorgimento.

"Va, pensiero" at Seattle Opera's 2015 premiere of Nabucco

And it’s often asked, was this piece meant as a spur, as an encouragement for that cause? Did Verdi intend it? I’m not sure he did. I think actually it was a happy chance that echoes were found with the suffering Hebrew people, that Verdi’s audiences found a direct parallel to their situation. Verdi became a slightly unwitting apostle for the Risorgimento. But that’s not to say Verdi didn’t have very strong political convictions. He certainly understood politics as a dramatic force, as the basis for a lot of his work. The idea of an invading army, the sacking of a city, the movement of great political forces, was an attraction within the subject matter for Verdi, undoubtedly.

What does Nabucco tell us about violence and power politics in the mideast, then and now?
Has anything changed in the Middle East between the Biblical times and now? It’s part of the world which has always been in conflict. It’s desert...boundaries shift with the sands. Conflict has certainly been part of that region for many many many generations. Again, was that Verdi’s intention? No. There have been many contemporary productions which draw parallels between the story and current events in the mideast. Personally I’ve always found that’s interesting for about ten minutes, and then you get into big problems. You know, people who brandish Kalashnikovs move in a realistic time frame, and yet the weight and grandeur of this music plays against a scenic plan which requires very detailed, naturalistic acting. For me, that has always been a big problem with contemporary productions of this piece—the visual image is at odds with the musical pulse.

"Va, pensiero" at London's Royal Opera House in 2013, production by Daniele Abbado

What’s the connection between this opera and Shakespeare?
Verdi is sometimes called “Opera’s Shakespeare.” He wrote three operas based on Shakespeare: Macbeth, Otello, and Falstaff, which is a setting of The Merry Wives of Windsor. The opera he always intended to write and never got around to was King Lear; in many ways this work is the nearest he gets to King Lear. What appealed to Verdi in Shakespeare? The directness of the dramas, the pace, and also the variety. What defines Shakespearean theater from European theater is the mixed genre. With Shakespeare, even in tragedy there is black comedy, lighter moments. Whereas a French tragedy is absolutely unrelieved seriousness.

Verdi may have been a bit envious of the English having Shakespeare as their national playwright and wanted to claim a bit of that feeling for himself. Maybe the fact that Verdi was of humble birth helped him identify with a writer who was not an aristocrat, who wrote popular theater, for the people, because Italian opera was popular theater and Shakespeare was certainly writing for a popular audience.

And it wasn’t just Verdi. Shakespeare underwent a huge revival in the nineteenth century. There was an element of Shakespeare that appealed to the Romantic movement; they were eager to adopt him. And I think it was the freedom, the free will of the characters, that appealed to the nineteenth century—certainly to the Romantic ideal.

Where does Nabucco fit, among all the Verdi operas we know and love?
Nabucco is Verdi’s third opera, and as we might expect from a composer who’s finding his way still, stylistically the piece still belongs to the opera-writing of the late 1830s, 1840s. It’s written in quite a monumental style—it has big address, big arias, big ensembles, which might hold the action up by comparison with the style which Verdi evolved later in his life. But that’s not to deny in any way its magnificence.

It is opera written for singers. Some of these roles are extremely challenging. Abigaille is probably the best example of an almost unsingable role. And Nabucco himself has huge vocal challenges. It’s written with a nod to the bel canto tradition, where the skill of the performer, the technical complexity of the writing, is part of the excitement of the entertainment, or the thrill of big chorus writing; that’s why the audience has come. That’s not to say that the later Verdi writing doesn’t require huge vocal ability. But Verdi moved towards what we call the ‘through-composed’ style, which we see in Puccini, beginning with Rigoletto and Traviata, which are eight, nine, ten years later than Nabucco. So don’t expect the fluidity of Rigoletto, because he hadn’t got there yet. But do expect writing of huge vocal impact and monumental emotional charge.

In many ways Nabucco is not dissimilar in its feel to Aida, which likewise has big grand scenes, quite apart from being set in that part of the world. Although written much later, Aida has a similar feel. But part of the fun of Aida is the orientalism of the setting, which doesn’t play such an important part in Nabucco. Yes, Nabucco is set in Biblical times, but it doesn’t seem to be about that so much. Whereas Aida, written for Cairo, it’s about Egypt. I don’t think this piece is about Babylon and Jerusalem: it’s actually about the way man relates to his God and his faith.

What are the pitfalls in terms of staging Nabucco?
If you’ll excuse a wee bit of theater history, one of the things which fascinates me is the way the theatrical conditions of any work have a huge impact on its style. Now we mentioned Shakespeare earlier. Look at the later Shakespeare plays, when we know he went to an indoor theater away from the Globe. The style becomes much more intimate (or, to put it another way, much less bombastic and grandiloquent). Shakespeare understood that if he was writing for an open-air stage in London, his writing needed to carry that environment. If you go indoors, you don’t.

Now, the theater in Verdi’s time, in the 1840s, was very different to what we have today. The relationship between the audience and the stage was completely different by dint of the fact that there was not yet the technology to create an illuminated stage and therefore a darkened auditorium. The theater would have been illuminated with candlelight, and they would have made attempts to heighten the stage picture with footlights, with candles with a metal or glass reflector behind it. The singers would have been right down at the front. Scenery was two-dimensional perspective painting, and there wasn’t a whole lot of space. Therefore, the audience was witness to a very different form of theater. There would have been much greater contact between the stage and audience than you get in a darkened auditorium, because in the dark, the singers are in what we call ‘inner thought’ rather than outer declamation.

Photo of a Nabucco production at Castello di Vigoleno, Italy
From http://www.maurocorna.it/site/

It seems to me this has always been the big problem with Nabucco. I’ve seen it many times, and leaving aside the awful monolithic Biblical scenery which you usually get—that may be just my taste!—I believe the grandeur and weight of the music are better matched by a really intense and direct contact with the audience. When the audience are not included, what you actually see is a lot of people strutting around onstage, being very big, for seemingly no good reason. So what we’ve decided to do with this production here at Seattle Opera is to make a very daring experiment: to say, “If this contact between audience and performer is germane to our thrilling experience of this piece, let’s give it the best possible opportunity. Like a Shakespearean theater, let’s bring the performers right to the front.”

So we’ve built a stage, not dissimilar to a Shakespearean thrust stage, extending up to the first row of the audience. We had to put the orchestra somewhere else, so we’ve relocated them behind the acting space. You’ll see them, dimly, but the idea is that you ignore their presence the way you would ignore an orchestra in the pit, and focus your attention firmly on the performers. We’re hoping we can find an acting style which is much more direct and much less rhetorical, one that respects the weight and grandeur of the music. And at the same give the audience even more of a thrill at the exciting singing by this close proximity than if they were thirty feet farther away, the width of an orchestra pit. So we’re trying to get that Shakespearean feel which is in the piece, and to capture in a modern way the intimacy that Verdi’s audience would have felt with the performers and vice versa, better than we would be able to do if we just were in a conventional proscenium arch setup. So it’s an experiment, to try and get that thrill of the piece, to help it make as strong an impact, and therefore case for the piece, as we can.

We invited François Racine to direct; he has done a number of productions in this manner, playing around with space and the relationship of audience and performer. François came to Seattle and we brought in Duane Schuler, the lighting designer, and Bob Bonniol, the video designer, for a big think-tank. Gradually, collectively, we evolved our scenic plan. I can’t remember whose idea it was to bring the stage over the orchestra pit; we thought, why end at the front of the stage if we can come even further? It was one of those examples where many minds make a much more creative solution than simply one. And we were able to discuss practicalities of lighting and projection surfaces.

Tell us a little about the use of projected imagery in this production.
If we didn’t want to have heavy, stolid Biblical scenery, we nevertheless have to suggest location. This opera requires us to see the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the Temple of Jerusalem and its destruction... these Wonders of the Ancient World, which we don’t really know what they looked like! So we invited Bob Bonniol and his team to evolve a series of projected images, some of which are animated, some of which will stay still, which enable us to move very clearly from scene to scene. When necessary they comment or add intensity, or be it a sense of location or a reflection of abstract feeling and emotion. And on this vast projection screen we can get a sense of awe, of scale, apt to the epic nature of this piece.

And what really pleases me is that the team understood: projected imagery must never get in the way or become a means to its own end. We need something which is arresting, and creates a sense of presence and mood, but that never deflects attention from the acting. And I think the extraordinary images they’ve evolved meet that brief really very well. I’ve seen many productions with video projections where, after five or ten minutes, you go, “Oh, for God’s sakes! Stop! Stop a moment.” It’s very easy for it to upstage the acting.

François Racine has been with Seattle Opera before; in fact he won the Artist of the Year Award for his staging of Bluebeard’s Castle and Erwartung back in 2009. He was delighted to come back. And he brought with him one of his colleagues from Montréal, Ginette Grenier, our costume designer, who’s come up with a marvelous array of costumes which respect the Biblical side to the story AND at the same time make very clear who are the Hebrews, who are the Babylonians. She has chosen fabrics which allow movement, rather than stiff, heavy fabrics which restrict the performers’ movements, so the costumes will enable a modern, dynamic style of acting, while paying absolute respect to the Biblical antecedants of the work.

Costume design for Abigaille © Ginette Grenier

What are the vocal challenges of Nabucco?
Nabucco really is a singer’s opera, and it’s essential to cast singers who can ride its intense vocal demands. Our two Nabuccos are both artists returning to Seattle Opera, and Gordon Hawkins and Weston Hurt are intensely experienced in this genre and are right on top of the character. Abigaille is an extraordinary role. Mary Elizabeth Williams has sung it before, to huge acclaim, and we had her as Tosca quite recently and we’re thrilled to have her back. And the alternate cast has a wonderful Italian singer, Raffaella Angeletti, who also has done this role before. She’ll be making her Seattle Opera debut, as will both our Zaccarias, American singer Christian Van Horn and Andreas Bauer, who has come to us from Germany. So in those three exceedingly difficult roles we have some really top singers. We’re also thrilled to welcome back Russell Thomas, as Ismaele, and making her Seattle Opera debut as Fenena, Jamie Barton, who just won the Richard Tucker prize in New York, making her debut. So we’re really over the moon about the quality of the cast.

And what about our conductor?
Maestro Carlo Montanaro has conducted this piece many times. In the early rehearsals the singers have already been delighted by his attention to detail. He’s not allowing a sort of lazy, rhetorical singing; he was immediately finding fine details in the music, and all the singers responded to that. They realize that it’s necessary; what’s happening musically must echo the intensity and intimacy of the acting style made possible (indeed, demanded) by our scenic plan. We don’t want loud, meaningless, abstract singing. So it’s a very happy coming-together of Carlo’s approach to this piece and what we’ve evolved scenically.

Aidan Lang on Ariadne auf Naxos

General Director Aidan Lang has strong feelings about and plenty of experience with Ariadne auf Naxos, the final opera of our 14/15 season. He calls the work ‘subtle’ and ‘beautiful,’ and points out that you don’t present Ariadne unless you can hire a cast with a lot of star power.

There’s a lot going on in Ariadne auf Naxos—a mash-up of comedy and tragedy and a show-within-a-show. Is this opera safe for those who are new to the art form?
There is a lot going on here—two mini-operas set in a framework which provides a context for the whole thing. Is this an opera for a first-timer? Yes, I think it is, precisely because nothing hangs around too long and you do get three glimpses of our art form in digestible chunks.

To start with we have the Prologue, which is a delightfully sly send-up of the process of getting an opera up, especially those frantic last few minutes on opening night. And in it one sees that Hofmannsthal and Strauss had been there, done that, complete with the tempermental wigmaker! There are artists at every stage of the process, and each have their own very real needs and concerns, to make the overall show perfect.

The Tenor (John Horton Murray) rejected the Wigmaker (Byron Ellis)'s masterpiece in Seattle Opera's 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos
Rozarii Lynch, photo

Then we move to the opera itself—the Ariadne story is a serious story out of Greek mythology, made into this tragic opera seria. And that’s counterbalanced by the comedians’ opera. They give their own little shtick, their piece which they’ve been asked to do, and they also improvise a section. And in between there’s an extraordinary virtuoso aria for Zerbinetta. So there’s something for everybody. It’s funny, it’s serious, it’s interesting to get this behind-the-scenes look, and I think it’s a fantastic piece for a first-timer because you see a cross-section of everything we do.

Zerbinetta (Jane Giering-DeHaan played the field in Seattle Opera's 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos
Rozarii Lynch, photo

What’s Fickle Zerbinetta and Her Four Lovers about?
The Zerbinetta troupe have been brought along to perform a little piece of commedia dell’arte theater. Their characters come from that tradition of comic Italian theater. So they perform a little tale of inconstancy, of playing the field.

Philip Cutlip sings Harlekin's song at Seattle Opera in 2004

In addition, they have a scene prior to their little performance, which they interject into Ariadne’s story, and the idea is, that scene is improvised. They’ve had a few minutes to work out what to do—they’ve been commanded to play their opera simultaneously—and such performers were skilled improvisers. There was an element of novelty to any commedia dell’arte performance. And in between those two performances is Zerbinetta’s aria, where she says to her guys, “Okay, enough, this is girl-to-girl talk, I’ll put her to rights.” And her philosophy is: there are plenty of men out there, you shouldn’t stay constant to one. Their play then demonstrates that philosophy: we see Zerbinetta playing the field. And Zerbinetta’s final little twist comes just as the opera is near resolution; there’s a marvelous line where she just echoes the end of her aria, as if to say, “Told you so!” Because a new god has come along who has transformed Ariadne’s very rigid viewpoint. But it’s a told-you-so spoken with great tenderness, borne, probably, of the five minutes Zerbinetta spent with the Composer. I think her encounter with the Composer has affected her. At that moment it isn’t really the character of Zerbinetta speaking, it’s the human who plays Zerbinetta.

Ariadne, as painted by Evelyn Pickering

What’s this serious tragedy of Ariadne about?
Like all Greek myths, there are many variants of Ariadne. She was the daughter of Minos, who guarded the Labyrinth; she helped Theseus slay the Minotaur, and when Theseus took her to the island of Naxos he abandoned her. In another version of the story, Dionysus (or Bacchus, as he’s called in the opera) transforms her into a constellation, making her divine. But what the Composer says very clearly, in one of his outbursts in the Prologue, is that for him, Ariadne is the embodiment of man’s isolation, his loneliness. That’s a very early twentieth-century view of man: our essential isolation, lack of connection. And that is of course the Composer, this young man who is so devoted to his art he cannot in any way connect with other people. And towards the end of the Prologue, in this beautiful duet, Zerbinetta reveals to him that actually she is not the character she plays onstage—she, too, is deeply searching for the right person, and there’s this marvelous frisson where you think: “Are they going to get together?” So the actress Zerbinetta has the same effect on the Composer as Bacchus has on Ariadne. A very fixed viewpoint is changed. So our view of this Ariadne opera is conditioned by our view of its creator, which is this character of the Composer.

The Composer (Carrie Kahl) tries to understand Zerbinetta (Julianne Gearhart) in Seattle Opera's 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos
Rozarii Lynch, photo

Which one are we supposed to believe? Who wins?
I think the point is no one wins. Strong idealism meets compromise, and in the light of that, something better emerges. Just as the Composer thinks there is only one truth in art, so Ariadne thinks she must be true to Theseus until death, and she welcomes death so she can go on to a higher plane rather than betray her beloved husband. And in both stories, by making a change, by making a compromise, a new and higher reality is awakened. Ariadne’s devotion to Theseus is overturned, and new feelings are awakened by the arrival of Bacchus, which help her rise to the status of demigod, transformed into a constellation. For the Composer there’s the hint that his walls may begin to come down now that he understands the person behind the façade of Zerbinetta. So it’s about not who wins! It’s about this fusion of pragmatism and compromise. We’re not opposed to idealism. But if you merge a strong idea with practicality, you end up with a better outcome. And of course that’s exactly what we do when we make an opera! We go in with a strong conceptualized approach to a piece, and but then reality intrudes: “Actually, you can’t fly that wall right there, because...” or “We’ve run out of money for paint...” or whatever. Reality forces you to think again, to deepen your initial idea, and invariably you come out with a better product in the end.

The Dancing-Master (Doug Jones) and the Music Teacher (Richard Stilwell) look for potential cuts in Seattle Opera's 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos
Rozarii Lynch, photo

Tell us a little about Strauss, Hofmannsthal, and their partnership.
This relationship with Strauss and Hofmannsthal was of course one of the great composer-librettist partnerships. And yet they were very different people. Hofmannsthal was an intensely intellectual man, a man of words. A truly elegant librettist. And Strauss had an element of practicality to him. They really sparked off one another. Writing a piece about the act of writing an opera was right up both their streets. It’s a glorious confection—there’s so much in it! There’s almost too much in it, but I think you wouldn’t want to lose anything. This business about the nature of music, the high art, the holy art, the Composer calls it—her aria at the end of the Prologue is very much Strauss’s credo. Allied to the high idealism of the Composer, that aria reflects the intellectualism of Hofmannsthal as well. Both these men lived in the realm of high art. But at the same time both were aware of other art forms as well, and were happy to incorporate them, with great skill, into this opera.

Kate Lindsey sings the Composer's Aria at Seattle Opera

How is opera-going, in contemporary Seattle, different from what Strauss might have experienced?
Remember that when this piece was written, going to the opera, especially in major cities in Europe, was a very normal, everyday activity. You were going to see a show. You know, I always think it’s odd when people say, “I’m going to a show on Broadway,” but they don’t really make a distinction as to whether they’re seeing a play or a musical. They may say, “I’m going to see a play,” but they’re going to Les Miz. But neither one is opera; we have compartmentalized opera away from theater. One of the delightful challenges we have, dealing with opera today, is trying to bring people towards that day-to-day acceptance of the art form. So I think although yes, Ariadne is a piece of high art, audiences in Strauss’s day had less trouble in their minds deciding to go see Ariadne as opposed to whatever play was going on at Stuttgart’s Hoftheater. There’s been a big shift in the way opera is perceived, which I would love to reverse. My mission is to make opera-going a very normal part of the lives of the people in Seattle.

For Seattle Opera's 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos, Jane Eaglen parodied herself as Seattle's favorite Prima Donna
Rozarii Lynch, photo

Our production sets Ariadne in contemporary Seattle instead of Rosenkavalier-Vienna. What is gained? Is anything lost?
Generally, productions of the piece I’ve seen over the years have stayed away from setting it in the original time. It makes no difference when the piece is set; the idea of a commissioned entertainment, of whatever length, happens today.

I’ll give you a personal anecdote to show you that this kind of thing actually happens. While I was actually directing Ariadne—my wife Linda was playing Zerbinetta, we were in London—she got a job with another well-known opera singer and a fabulous pianist—to give fifteen minutes of post-dinner entertainment at a banquet given by the Lord Mayor of London, at the Mansion House, at which Prince Charles was the guest of honor. I went along to turn the pages. There was a good fee for all of them and a lovely dinner—they weren’t invited to sit with the guests, but had their own table out back. And there was a man—probably ex-army, maybe ex-military police, who was the Major-Domo, and he kept coming out to check that we were all okay, but his real message was: “Fifteen minutes and no more!” And it was the most brilliant thing because we were doing Ariadne and here we were, living Ariadne! So it goes on.

This unseen wealthy patron is the framework to Strauss’ Ariadne. And there’s another theme: the freedom, or otherwise, of the artist. Is he free to do what he likes? No. There are set parameters to this performance, as dictated by the guy who’s paying for them. And I love the character of the Butler or Major-Domo, he’s so condescending! And just like the guy at Mansion House, what’s most important to him is that they stick to the clock—we’ve got this fantastic display of fireworks! That’s what the Butler really wants to see. The constraints placed on art by this wealthy man are similar to what we impose as a company—we don’t want the opera to go into overtime, for example. We put budgetary constrains on our creative teams. That’s pragmatism. So the opera’s framework, as well as being witty and showing us details of life backstage, is itself a statement of the rigor which any artistic enterprise needs. Time and money.

Tell us a bit about the fireworks that conclude the production!
Originally (in 2004) they used live fireworks, but now we’re going to do it digitally. Why are the fireworks there? As Ariadne becomes a constellation, we send people’s eyes upwards and you have the sense of sparkling stars for a moment.

Fireworks music at the end of Ariadne auf Naxos

Now, there’s a difference between live fireworks and what we will do digitally. For me, when you bring into a theater things which don’t normally live in the theater—animals are a prime example of this—your framework shifts. The incongruity of live flame in this place—which could set the building on fire—for a moment takes you out of the contract you, as an audience member, have made with the theater. That is, you’ve agreed to enter a world of imagination. I think a very lavish digital display of fireworks will keep you within the framework of the theatrical experience.

What’s the trick to directing and designing a good production of Ariadne?
I have a very strong view of how you go about designing Ariadne. The big pitfall is that sometimes the framework of the Prologue, i.e. the idea that we are putting on a performance in a space, can radically compromise the Ariadne part of the opera itself. What you need to do is to start from the point of view of whoever was directing the Ariadne opera. How would we want to do that? And then work backwards. Of course you have to acknowledge the framework, but you mustn’t let it constrict the imagination needed to fulfill a truthful and creative rendition of the Ariadne story. The Zerbinetta bit’s easy. But, rather than always being reminded of the framework of the rich man’s house, like a TV camera we should be able to zoom in and enter Ariadne’s world.

Seattle Opera has put together a very starry cast for this show. Does Ariadne depend on star power?
Yes, Ariadne needs some fabulous singers to bring it off. It’s very demanding, and you need different sorts of singers. Not only Ariadne (Christiane Libor and Marcy Stonikas), Zerbinetta (Sarah Coburn and Haeran Hong), Bacchus (Issachah Savage and Jeffrey Hartman), and the Composer (Kate Lindsey and Sarah Larsen), roles like the Music Master—that’s a tricky, tricky number, and you need someone who has experience and presence to bring it off. (We have Patrick Carfizzi.) Part of the tongue-of-cheek humor of the piece is about star singers—we see them, warts and all, in the Prologue, as divas. That’s part of the fun. So it requires casting at a very high level, not only for its demands, but part of the fun of the piece is seeing very, very talented people performing.

And the reality is, if you can’t sing Zerbinetta, you won’t. We hire someone capable of sustaining an absolutely virtuosic twelve-minute aria.

Sarah Coburn sings Zerbinetta's aria at Seattle Opera

And you need an Ariadne who is capable of sustaining two very taxing monologues, one after the other, plus the big scene with Bacchus in the end.

Christiane Libor sings Ariadne's "Es gibt ein Reich" at Seattle Opera

And as for Bacchus—the old saying goes that Strauss hated tenors so he wrote an unsingable part.

The late Greg Carroll sang Bacchus when Seattle Opera's Young Artists Program presented Ariadne auf Naxos in 2010

Actually, you need a Bacchus who is capable of singing with great delicacy, with great sensitivity. A lot of his music is marked piano. It tends to get oversung. He enters in a strange frame of mind—he’s just had this bizarre encounter with Circe, and the more delicately you can get that opening encounter between Ariadne and Bacchus, the more interesting a scene you will have.

Bacchus (John Horton Murray) enters warily in Seattle Opera's 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos
Rozarii Lynch, photo

It shouldn’t be about two monsters just singing at each other, because that’s not how it’s written. It is very important that that scene is directed properly. It can so easily feel grafted-on. Whereas actually it’s really a very well-crafted, well-written scene. But you need people for those roles who are sensitive actors, just as for the commedia troupe you need people who are physically adept and can give the impression of being old hands at this style of comic acting.

"Cheer up, sad island lady!" A scene from Seattle Opera's 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos
Rozarii Lynch, photo

What’s the conductor’s job with this opera? Tell us a little about Maestro Rennes, who conducted Elektra in Seattle in ’08.
Strauss wrote Ariadne for an orchestra of 39 or so players. There are the odd moments where it sounds a bit like Elektra—but that’s a red herring. It’s a large chamber orchestra, not an orchestra of 85, 90. Delicacy for me is one of the key words with this piece musically. It’s a very beautiful score, a very subtle score, where you hear individual string players rather than a full string body. It’s not easy to bring off. You need really good people, and the conductor must unite them so the work retains its integrity.

Lawrence Renes is a Dutch conductor, he’s recently been appointed Music Director of the Royal Swedish Opera. His repertoire is quite varied; he’s done a lot of John Adams, but at the same time he’s done Mozart and the orchestral repertoire. We heard when he conducted Elektra here that Strauss is in his blood, and the challenge for this piece is to give it its own unique quality. As an opera man through and through, I know Lawrence will do a fantastic job for us.

This discussion has also been released as a SoundCloud podcast. Listen below, or download it HERE.