Carolyn Abbate

It was really great. Although I was a little let down by their diagnosis of the demise of new operas, maybe I wanted a more interesting answer than "opera is expensive and the new ones aren't as popular." They brought up some interesting issues - e.g. one composer mentioning that there's a 2 million dollar investment being placed on him but he's writing something he's never written before, and about how the tradition ended a hundred years ago so there's no guideline on how to write a modern opera. It wasn't really elaborated on though. Overall, it was a history book that I got excited enough about that I read the last 150 pages yesterday, which is imo pretty amazing. Planning to reread it in 5 years when I'm familiar with all the music they're talking about.… (más)

Quite an impressive and worthwhile overview. I was particularly struck with their use of the movie "Diva" which has a memorable aria from La Wally in it and which serves to illustrate the power of song even divorced from any context. I also appreciated the fact that there are no musical quotes in the text but that operas are described well. Their treatment of Wagner is quite wonderful. My only complaint is that they seemed to get tired at the end and dismissed many of the modern operas which we have come to enjoy, mainly because one of their key insights is that despite the spectacular growth of opera and opera houses and performances in recent years most of what we hear is from the standard repertory and most new works are failures. Most, but even as they grudgingly report, not all, especially not Britten or Adams or Ades. They dismiss Einstein on the Beach with one line of comment but this was one of the best new works I have seen. They are generally ignorant or dismissive of the minimalists. These, however, are individual quibbles. The book's value as a general history of opera far outweighs its lack of discussion of newer works.… (más)

Abbate and Parker’s history of opera is a very smoothly-written, interesting and nuanced book with one major flaw. The book describes the development of opera from its start in the late 1500s to the present day. In the wide-ranging introduction, the authors raise a number of issues that will frequently appear – the difference between spoken and sung words, how performance practice alters an opera, the difference between the plot-character and the music-character (e.g., dying characters singing on for a long time), and the changing experience of seeing an opera. They often refine or refute common-knowledge ideas of operatic history (the influence of the Florentine Camerata, Gluck’s importance, Verdi’s political involvement). The merits of many once-popular, now-forgotten operas and genres (e.g., French grand opera) are discussed as well as the durability of traditions and forms. There’s a lot about just how odd and bizarre the whole enterprise is – constant tensions between words and music, tradition and innovation, singers and composers and audiences, and the recurring idea through history that opera is too messy or out-of-line and must be reformed. Musical examples are given but particular passages are not provided as in many books, and it’s more about the history and the operas in context (how audiences reacted, what was novel and what influenced the composers) instead of a list of periods, composers, and operas. The authors include a number of quotes criticizing influential, popular and now-acclaimed operas which was a lot of fun to read.

There are certainly some small quibbles with various interpretations and, in the sections organized by theme, some operas seem shoved in. Occasionally some musical analyses go on a little long but are usually interesting to read. However, the main problem with the book is the poor and paltry treatment of contemporary opera. As the authors’ opinion is that it’s a dead art form, this is not surprising but their cursory look and dismissive attitude at the present-day weakens their argument and comes as an unhappy development after their open attitude towards all the operatic foibles of the past. From the introduction, where they hint at this conclusion, one imagines that they will have some suggestions for the present but they abruptly conclude after dismissing half a century of composers.

The start of opera is presented as more diffuse and less definitive than the usual accounts – which often have the Camerata, an intellectual group based in Florence, theorizing about what Greek performances were like, then composers going out and composing. The varied precursors of opera are familiar, but the authors provide a good summary. Although the book is a little light on early examples – only the great Claudio Monteverdi’s works are analyzed in detail – and the French section seemed rather short, it’s a nuanced summary. In the early days of opera, the competing schools were the French and the Italian, not the more familiar Italian-vs-German debates in the 19th c. The decades after the birth of opera also produced a number of oddities and experiments as the new form spread through Italy and to the German territories. Various quotes from intellectuals and philosophers calling for reform are found throughout the book and soon after the spread of opera, reforms led to opera seria.

As opera gained in popularity, singers became highly-paid professionals (the myths and paranoia surround the castrati get examined) and the set style of opera seria emerged. This genre moved away from the through-composed recitar cantando style seen in Monteverdi to the harpsichord-accompanied recitativo secco (exposition) and more elaborate arias, with the da capo aria – an ABA form with elaborate ornamentation on the repeat section – becoming de rigueur. Opera seria also had a number of standard elements – historical/exotic subjects, happy endings with the good rewarded and the bad punished or reformed, poetic librettos, spectacular productions, and large portions where the audience gossiped, ate, slept or crowd-watched. As opera seria was Very Serious, the comedic elements, which had often been incongruously juxtaposed with the solemn in the early years, migrated away to the silly, popular opera buffa – the genre whose main target was often the conventions of opera itself. The coverage of operas from this era is still a little thin but the section on Handel provides a good overview of the London operatic milieu of the time. There are occasional mentions of modern-day practices – the current baroque opera revival – and these never seem forced.

Reform opera is generally attributed to Christoph Willibald Gluck, who railed against the conventions of opera seria and composed his own operas in a declamatory style like Monteverdi, with Greek subjects, plenty of chorus and none of what he thought was the excess of opera seria. Gluck was extremely influential, but the authors note that his cries for reform, like many others, had a strong anti-Italian bias and that the Italians cheerfully went on valuing highly ornamented singing, as the Rossinian model, which held for decades, would show. Mozart is often categorized as a proponent of reform opera. However, he went back and forth as is shown. One or both of the authors clearly has a strong affection for his operas as the analysis of his life, environment, and operas went on and sometimes it seemed that whole sections were in place just to discuss more Mozart. However, the look at speaking vs music in various theatrical forms is clearly related to what comes after. Also, the musical analysis is almost always related to the topic at hand and set in the historical context. For example, the much-praised opening duet between Figaro and Susanna in Le Nozze di Figaro is contrasted with what the same scene would look like in opera seria – though the wonderful characterization is also noted. The high-flying crazy coloratura aria of the evil Queen of the Night in Die Zauberflöte is contrasted to the more modest and declamatory music of the good characters – some reform influence there.

After a detour to the German Romantic operas, Beethoven’s Fidelio and Carl Maria von Weber’s Der Freischütz – nicely set in context, but what was with the Fidelio-bashing? – the history moves to Italy. The chapters on Gioachino Rossini and his influence are among the best. The book sets out the Rossini model, its strengths and limitations, how Rossini did not so much break tradition as provide some of the best examples of it and also how he could adapt his model for different situations – the needs of a particular opera or the changes when he composed a French grand opera. Vincenzo Bellini and Gaetano Donizetti tend to get lumped in with Rossini as Italian bel canto composers but by contrasting Bellini and Donizetti to the Rossini model, the authors do a terrific job of differentiating between them. The Rossini model provided a set structure for the arias and ensemble movements - the slower, lyrical cantabile followed by a change in mood or a surprising event, leading to the faster ornamented concluding cabaletta. Along the way, other topics related to the period are covered – the decline of the castrati with the corresponding rise of the tenor, specific singers who shaped Rossini’s operas and the importance of performance practice, and – a more modern concern, perhaps – the occasional feeling of dissonance a watcher might have from hearing the bright cascades of Rossini’s music describing an extremely unpleasant scene. Bellini and Donizetti mostly stuck to the Rossini form but added increasingly dramatic and dissonant music, more declamatory sections and used ornamentation more exclusively for the female characters. Most of the operas covered are standard – Norma? check – Lucia? check (some great history and modern ideas on the famous mad scene)…but then there are some weird ones, from the lesser-known (Il pirata) to the huh? (Parisina??).

Giuseppe Verdi and Richard Wagner, the two titans of 19th c. Italian and German opera, are contrasted in two sections each on their lives and operas. The overall conclusion of Verdi seems to be that he was essentially conservative – brilliant and effective in altering the Rossini model, but mostly a follower, especially later in life. The authors also deny ideas of his political importance and role in the Risorgimento – the chorus from Nabucco, “Va, pensiero”, became an unofficial anthem much later and they attribute misconceptions to late 19th c. and later Fascist propaganda. However, the French and Italian influence on Wagner is described at length as well though his radical, noisy music and other operatic advances - his use of new instruments, writing his own librettos, demanding a dark theater for his operas - also get much coverage. Verdi’s advancements are described through the musical analysis of his operas Ernani, Macbeth and especially Rigoletto. The availability of talented singers also spurred him to write extremely difficult music. Later in life, his operas were stylistically varied from the mashup of styles in La Forza del destino and Un Ballo in maschera, the conventional form and exoticism of Aida, the French grand opera Don Carlos and the two Shakespeare-inspired masterpieces, Otello and Falstaff. The latter two were often seen as Verdi succumbing to Wagnerism or his response against it. There is extensive analysis of Wagner’s operas – the authors have some obvious favorites, especially Tristan, I never minded them going off on that one – as well as his life. One has to mention his leitmotifs - little musical themes - in any musical analysis but his various - and, to the authors, not always successful - depictions of love are also described.

The two strands of French opera, grand opéra and opéra comique, are given a sympathetic treatment. Grand opéra is one genre that hasn’t seen a revival like bel canto or baroque opera. Certain ones have survived, mostly due to their composers – Verdi’s Don Carlos, Rossini’s Guillaume Tell and Wagner’s Tannhäuser. French grand opéra would be a lavish affair, a five-act, French language serious opera usually about warring religions/nations with giant choruses, a ballet and spectacular scenery and effects. The conditions for these enormous productions are described and the international character – both of composers and in the mishmash of styles in the operas – is seen as tolerant and inclusive relative to later nationalism. The most famous product from grand opéra was Charles Gounod’s reworked Faust, which would go on to be an enormous success and make frequent literary appearances. In the chapter on opéra comique – it had to have spoken dialogue, though plots could be varied adventures or fluffy fun – the authors defend the merely frivolous and entertaining. Most of the popular hits from this genre are forgotten but opéra comique did produce one opera – an atypical one – that everyone knows – Georges Bizet’s Carmen. Bizet’s orchestration and delineation of the characters is praised but attention is also paid to his extensive use of “real song” – parts of the opera that would have been actually sung in life – and its importance - Carmen’s singing and dancing is part of her allure. The long and successful afterlife of Carmen is compared with another popular at the time, now forgotten opera – Ambrose Thomas’ Mignon.

After Verdi and Wagner, the operas of the late 19th c. are shoved together in a section on realism and noise. It seems a bit of a grab-bag – the Russian operas that they had to include because they’re the ones people know (Mussorgsky’s Boris Godunov, Tchaikovsky’s Yevgeny Onegin), the French Jules Massenet, verismo and Giacomo Puccini. To their credit, the analysis of the operas is good and relates to the topic at hand. They also manage to convey how weird both the portrayals of everyday, unexalted topics and the techniques for ‘realistic’ sounds would have been at the time. The dissonant bells and background music of Boris and the domestic topic and also background music in Onegin are cited. Massenet and Puccini both adapted the novel Manon Lescaut for an opera - the overall unpleasant subject matter, Massenet’s focus on small domestic items and Puccini’s further reductions in ensemble singing fit the theme of the chapter. The authors contrast the realism and domestic focus of La bohème to Wagner and note the accusations of ‘noise’ that were thrown at Puccini as well as his seamlessly integrated ensembles and arias

Even more weirdness would start out the 20th century - Richard Strauss’ demented, noisy Salome and Elektra, Arnold Schoenberg’s demented, freely atonal Erwartung, Claude Debussy’s quiet, expressive and gorgeous Pelléas et Mélisande, with a weird Symbolist plot, and the also weird, ambiguous Bluebeard’s Castle, by Béla Bartók, a short and claustrophobic but harshly dramatic piece. The conceptions of these pieces (Wagnerism was hard to escape at this time), their reception, and their dramatic breaks with the past are covered. The authors have a clear fondness for many of the pieces – had to go listen to some of them while reading it. Not agonizing about Wagner were Leoš Janáček, the great Czech composer who based his idiosyncratic style on folk music (mainly in his opera Jenůfa) and the melody of speech, and Puccini, who incorporated many of the latest techniques into his operas but continued on with his usual melodic, concise style.

The modern style (and, it is hinted, the decline of opera) would start when operas tended towards pastiches and parodies or turned atonal. Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier tends to provoke opposite reactions and the authors do touch on some of what irritates its critics. They set the opera in the context of Strauss’ life and work but tend to analyze - instead of just the music - the references to the past, the musical jokes, the made-up history. Still, they, like many others, can’t help but praise his lush, nostalgic music. Ariadne auf Naxos is examined through a similar lens. However, both operas, whatever the pastiches or borrowed elements, really are enjoyable even if you know nothing about Le Nozze di Figaro or opera seria. Igor Stravinsky’s The Rake’s Progress, based on Hogarth’s illustrations and part of his neo-classical phase, is also included. The other strand of modernism would be serialist operas - instead of the free atonalism of Schoenberg’s early period, music based on his 12-tone system. Alban Berg’s Lulu and Wozzeck are the best examples, and they also look back to the past in their use of older musical forms - fugue, passacaglia - to structure the scenes.

Often the history of opera is seen as a progression towards greater declamatory styles. The last section on speech in 20th c. opera has some clearly relevant styles - the German Sprechstimme (the sung speech associated with atonalism), the Zeitoper movement during the Weimar Republic (with The Threepenny Opera being a well-known example), Janáček’s speech-melody. Some of the composers and operas feel out of place here though it’s interesting to read about them. Strauss’ late Capriccio is in his tonal, melodic style, but the subject of the opera is words vs music. The Russians are quickly summarized though the famous trashing of Dmitri Shostakovich’s Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk (in an article known to reflect Stalin’s views) is examined at length.

The final section does a quick description of movies and opera (there had been some about this previously - very interesting) then goes on to quickly summarize the operatic decline - decreased funding, limited repertory, no good new operas. Only Benjamin Britten is praised and examined at any length. There’s admiration for a couple new works such as György Ligeti’s bizarre grab-bag apocalyptic comedy pastiche Le Grande Macabre but everything else has problems.

All atonal operas are bad - or maybe not because the Schoenberg and Bergs were praised. Or maybe only long atonal operas? So a 1-2 hr one should be fine but maybe not because audiences don’t like atonal music, whatever the length? One of the few contemporary successes that they cite - Nixon in China - is subtly criticized for being too accessible and John Adams’ work in general is hinted to be all the same. The current trend of high-concept productions is only briefly mentioned though one could infer that the authors don’t much care for them based on their attitude throughout the book. However, given that they explained at length all the messy ways operas were put together and the less-than-involved audiences, the scolding that the current age faces feels odd. There are certainly some relevant points - one being that in the past, you had to produce a lot of forgettable operas to get one Faust or Carmen. But then the authors say that more funding and subsidies isn’t the answer. As funding situations are very different from country to country, it would be interesting to hear a bit about this in the past or present but it never comes up. They also mention that if operas aren’t successes in a relatively short time, they never will be. I was really thinking I should go back and check the receptions for the ones they covered - how long did it take some of them (often with disastrous premieres) to become successes? The authors are British and American; many of the productions they mention are from The Metropolitan Opera and Covent Garden. I couldn’t help but think that they were only surveying the present from the American/British point of view and that the situation might be different in France, Italy and Germany, the countries of most importance for, well, the whole book. The last chapter is irritating but the majority of the book is well-written, extremely readable and nuanced and informative. Read this book, but have a shaker of salt ready for the last chapters.… (más)