Poetry of the brothel or poetry with big, big, big balls?

La Traviata correspondent, July 2015

Opera is no stranger to controversy. Whether it’s confronting its audiences with the barbarous violations that invariably take place against women during war or the hypocrisy that runs rife in all societies that attempt to quash the free expression of taboo areas of human experience; the medium of opera ploughs the audience face first through the wild grasslands of reality unearthing uncomfortable truths as it does so. If you’re worried you may come out of the field with a mouth full of mud and worms then perhaps it is better to stay at home and watch a re-run of Murder She Wrote. However for those of you who don’t mind leaving the opera a little ruffled and unsettled then you stand a chance of coming closer to truth, if you have the courage to bear it. 

It is the double standards that apply to gender that was the chief concern of Verdi when he conceived La Traviata. Verdi was no doubt inspired by his own predicament of falling in love with soprano singer and mother of four Giuseppina  Strepponi, no doubt knowing full well that this would court social condemnation for flyng in the face of the mores of the time. Indeed Verdi was eventually shunned by the inhabitants of his home town for ‘living in sin’ with Strepponi. But it was a visit to Paris where he saw Alexandre Dumas, fils’ play La Dame aux Camelias with his new lover Strepponi that La Traviata was truly born.  Verdi chose to base the libretto on Dumas’ dramatization of the short adult life of courtesan Marie Duplessis.

Duplessis’ childhood was a brutal one and when she escaped from it she lived fast and hard in a world of pleasure before dying of tuberculosis at age 23. Whereas Duplessis could not afford the luxury of love as the life of a courtesan seldom would, Verdi’s character Violetta who is based on Duplessis finds love as a means of salvation. But in the end, Violletta would be denied real happiness when the father of her lover requests she give up his son because of her reputation and the shame this was bringing to his family. So though the men are free to ‘sow their wild oats’ they are welcomed back to society with open arms. all is forgiven so long as you marry a ‘reputable’ woman. If you still can’t give up your ‘staggish’ ways then fine but try to be inconspicuous about it. However, for the woman it’s ‘once a whore always a whore’. There is no hope for redemption. This hypocrisy continues to this day in various guises in all echelons of society. It’s the grim reality of gender inequality.

So, is it as the critics put it, ‘poetry of the brothel ‘when La Traviata premiered in London in 1856? Or, is closer to Verdi’s rallying cry for, ‘poetry with big, big, big balls’? I would argue they are one and the same. The poetry of the brothel is the poetry of the cruel unforgiving reality of life when in order to survive a woman is forced into a way of life where she is ultimately doomed. But as Verdi shows us, the prostitute retains her humanity and in our hypocrisy, maybe it’s us who have lost ours. Now if that isn’t poetry with big balls then I don’t know what is.

Peter Pan (and the lost songs)

As water droplets in the river of life relentlessly tumble from high tributaries of opportunity, through meandering channels of duty onwards towards the slow venerable estuaries before settling in exhausted anonymity in the ocean of history, the summers shorten, the liver suffocates and routines are layered like a thick bed of rotting silt. 

Such analysis is nugatory and immaterial for good old Peter Pan, J.M Barrie's invincible warrior-boy-cum-tribe-leader who supplements his enviable ability to fly, with seeming eternal youth.  Clearly dear reader you are well familiar with Hook, Tinker Bell and Tiger Lily so I'll leave you with a simple Wikipedia link in lieu of a better synopsis that this blog could never hope to provide. Here you go: Peter Pan

We saw the opera on Saturday 25^th from the upper reaches of the Royal Opera House.  This was a Welsh National Opera (WNO) production, directed by Keith Warner, with the score by Richard Ayres.  Modern operas in English like this are a challenge for me - a challenge to stay awake! There is no doubt this opera is beautiful, stunning, ambitious, dark, fun. The problem -  and I think this is often a problem for modern opera generally - is the absence of decent vocal melody. Not an aria in sight. No songs! The result is basically two hours of people screeching in a silly voice. The issue is magnified by the English libretto which just highlights the absurdity of the silly voice. 

Visually this opera packs punches, with flawless flying the highlight. The stage and costumes were a delight, and the audience were clearly impressed from the gasps and applause.  As seems to be the trend these days a revolving stage device was employed this time a kind of train set going around the stage in a circle carrying all kinds of wares and occasionally trains. The locomotion is charming but I couldn't help but be distracted by the train theme (maybe I’m just a train geek). Seriously though trains shouldn't really be the principle imagery of Peter Pan, and the production really stretched it as a devise representing London.

Better visual highlights included the walking alligator clock, and the alligator on the train track at the climax. The clock inside that alligator image was done tremendously and reflected in the score to great effect. Overall though I can think of better visual devices for this story, which could acknowledge the fantasy island and pirate ship elements of the story (instead of trains - cool as they are).

Peter Pan himself looked good and flew superbly. I'm not convinced by his voice, which fluctuates between high pitched boy and shouty bitchy man.  In fact the whole Peter Pan character is internally discordant - part cheeky arrogant boy part leader fighter but in this area the production probably reflects the conflicts inherent in the original tale.  In fairness the underlying darkness of Peter Pan comes through well in this opera, and in this area I will praise the libretto (even though I thought it was boring).

Finally this brings me onto the family audience pitch.  This opera was designed to bring out the kids – it’s advertised as suitable for families and is pretty cheap entry.  The stagecraft succeeds for family appeal - an excellent showcase for opera.  I'm not convinced that the score is the most accessible, without leitmotifs or repetition that new entrants might enjoy.  Once again, I'm pissed there were no arias.  It is my personal view but you can have as much stagecraft as you like but opera will still be inaccessible and absurd to many people (me included) if the vocals lack decent melody.  But my views are as transient as the Cardiff Bay tides.  Maybe I just need to grow up...