Nag, nag, nag
La Cieca would like to give the cher public a little nudge in the way of a reminder that the procrastination competition will be closed at midnight tonight. So what are you waiting for? (Remember, only comments to the original posting will be considered!)
I’m sorry, La Cieca, but I too find the comments closed at the original post. I thus submit my procrastination story here:
When La Cieca first encouraged us to visit our neglected opera-related items, I knew that I’d have to finally crack open one of the dozen books I’ve collected but have touched only briefly. I listen to recordings I acquire as soon as I can get to a player or a computer. I treat DVDs similarly. So it would have to be a book, a perfect excuse to finally move beyond page 15 of Grout’s A Short History of Opera, which I received as a gift over 2 years ago. But first I would have to find it. Unsuccessful in my search, I turned to the next book on my list: Gossett’s Divas and Scholars: Performing Italian Opera, which has rested on my shelf taunting me ever since La Cieca herself recommended that we all read it during one of the multiple (endless) discussions on staging “according to the composer’s original intent.” I’ve owned the book for four months but have been intimidated by its girth and its promise of dense scholarship.
Gossett sets out to describe performance practice and tradition of Italian opera of the first half of the 19th century (he includes Italian opera performed outside of Italy). As the book’s title might suggest, Gossett’s discussion is scholarly, but contains enough juicy anecdotes to leave the discussion airy, not dense. It is, without question, very easy to read. In the first section of the main text, Gossett leads the reader through the composition process, from choosing libretto subjects and librettists, to composing the vocal parts and the full orchestration. He even discusses the importance of score copyists and the changes in compensation practice during the 50 years covered in the book.
Every page I’ve read of this book is packed with fascinating information, illustrated with many examples from letters by the composers and their contemporaries, and from the author’s examination of the autograph scores and his experience in researching the critical editions of many of the operas discussed. Reading it does require two hands, though, as end note numbers dot the main text on every page. The reader must flip to the back to see the source of the anecdote or conclusion presented, and sometimes to see further discussion of the point at hand.
In my reading, I’ve discovered that many of the “facts” presented on Parterre by we commenters are really just wishes and opinions in disguise:
>For example, Caballé is a “special case” who could alter the music as written and remain blameless? Wrong. See page 7-8 for details on how she decided — during the performance — to simplify the lines and drop notes of the Ermione critical edition production.
>Singers closer to an opera’s composition were more respectful of the composer’s intention and didn’t engage in selfish behavior? Wrong. On page 40, we read that prima donnas throughout history have disliked the ending of Lucia because the character “dies before the tenor,” leading them “either to settle for a penultimate mad scene or to reverse the scenes and destroy all semblance of dramaturgical structure.”
>Singers in the “good old days” were so talented they didn’t need transpositions and could sing everything the composer threw at them? Wrong. Composers wrote for the specific singers they were given, changing notes to accentuate the singers’ strengths and to be kind to their limitations. See page 69 for Verdi’s pre-rehearsal instruction to his Macbeth and Lady Macbeth: “Let me know if there are any passages that lie badly for you,” enabling the Maestro to make changes before he finished the full orchestration. Verdi even proactively wrote alternatives of a passage for Macbeth, asking the baritone to chose the one that worked better for him.
You’ll notice that my three examples are all near the beginning of the book. The fact is that I didn’t finish the work during the 8 days since National Procrastination Week was announced. But despite a busy work week and over-scheduled evenings, I’ve returned to Divas and Scholars every chance I’ve had. Reading it is opening up in me a deeper level of appreciation of opera and the craft that goes into its production, reinforcing my belief that every successful performance is a team effort and some kind of miracle.
I have been too upset and shaken by the ghastly attack of La Cieca to continue.
I did feel that rysanekfreak absolutely beat the pants off all the competition.
Incidentally, the enormously interesting recording — from an historical standpoint anyway — of the early Bayreuth singers is on Gephardt. After listening to record one (various takes from Fliegende Hollaender), I have had the realization that I had finally encountered the source of inspiration for the Elmer Fudd vs. Bugs Bunny Wagnerian cartoons –maybe I’ll get around to record two sooner or later, or maybe I’ll keep listening to Beethoven op 127 and 131.
I intended to say “ghastly attack ON La Cieca by the Irish hooligans”. I did not refer to an attack OF laciecaitis — a rare disease of almost fiendishly rapier-like wit, too brilliant to be tolerated by humans, who invariably wilt under the stealthy, swiftly zingers.
Posts 10, 11, this thread. I betcha La Cieca has been listening to “Ballet of the Foolish Virgins” again.
Why are the finals of the Procrastination thread being procrastinated? One would hope the results will not be procrastinated.
I still feel rysanekfreak deserves the Oscar for best original screenplay.
Also, any progress on the “Parterre Purple” tee shirts? I am so sick of Manhattan black all the time.
Just wondering, don’t intend to pester.