Twin Tyrants and Frail Beauty: Life after Alcina

November 6, 2007 - Well friends, it's over. Alcina closed to a packed house of enthusiastic patrons on Saturday, and now many of us are experiencing the inevitable post-production blues. Towards the end of Act II, Ruggiero sings a reflective aria on the ephemeral nature of Alcina's beautiful island. "Verdant meadows, charming forests, your frail beauty shall soon die." As I listened to that aria for the last time on Saturday night, it struck me that people who work in theatre really experience the elegiac emotion of this aria at the end of every show. After all the hard work preparing for opening night and the joy of performing the show (a joy that is often very brief in the opera world with its average runs of 4 or 6 performances), suddenly one is presented with a sea-change that is truly astounding. In a matter of hours, chairs are stacked and concessions tables broken down; where a curvilinear psychodelic set once stood there is now a pile of lumber, torn paper, and discarded gels. The singers who so recently stood on this stage singing some of the most brilliant and powerful music ever written for the stage are on to other projects, often in very distant parts of the world. Theatre is indeed a frail beauty.

On the other hand, we have the charge to keep creating this ephemeral beauty because the legacy of the performing arts demands it. Handel's notes and his unknown librettist's words are merely an inanimate, historical document until someone performs them. We feel the great artists of history calling us from the page to make them live again eventhough we know that we can only animate their creation for a brief and irreproduceable period of time. And that's why I include the words "twin tyrants" from Bradamante's Act I aria in the title of this post. Performing artists are constantly being pulled between the tangible, permanent legacy of the past and the inherent transience of making that legacy live and communicate to our audiences.

Alright, that's enough philosophy for one post. Luckily, the tension between the abovementioned "tyrants" is also the cure for the malady. It's what drives most of us on to the next project. And I'm fortunate that I have another project looming on the horizon, namely "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?", our holiday cabaret on December 14th at 8pm. Featuring some favorite OV artists, Joy Greene, Jennifer Blades, Frederic Rey, and Will Heim, singing holiday selections from classic to cutting-edge the show will also have holiday goodies to eat and festive beverages for purchase. To reserve seats call the box office at 410.547.7997. Hope to see you there.

John Bowen

What I Did on my Summer Vacation

September 8, 2007 - Okay, so first off, I didn't really have a summer vacation. Unlike when I was the child of not one, but two educators, summer was indeed a blissful, unscheduled sequence of days. Even when I did my brief stint in the special kind of hell known as a "9 to 5" job, there was still the sense of vacation being a set aside (and predictable) period of time that one was guaranteed by contract. If you had cleared it with your boss or supervisor it didn't matter what happened during the agreed upon time of your vacation, you were not expected to fix it. Ah, who would have thought that one day I would be nostalgic for a "9 to 5" job? I'm not really all that nostalgic for it, but the one element that increasingly gets lost in the life of people involved in the arts (particularly those involved in any kind of executive capacity) is the idea that you can actually a) take the attitude that no matter what happens during your vacation, you're off the hook or b) find a time in which your organization is actually not in any way in need of you. So, during this time of "back to school" which was almost genetically ingrained in me by those two aformentioned educators, I'm often left wondering where the summer went and if it actually has any impact on me any more. I think that most artist reach a point in their lives where they realize that our basic modus operandi is "We work when there's work". And we all hope that there will always be work, and consistent work at that, or otherwise we wouldn't be able to actually support ourselves as artists. And don't even get me started on the idea of retirement. That will be fodder for a later blog, a much, much later blog.

But enough of these philosophical musings. I'm sure you're all just on the edge of your seats wondering what's been happening here at Opera Vivente since the last post. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but if you're reading this, you're probably at least mildly curious. So. . .here's the scoop:

Design work for Alcina is virtually complete at this point. The carpenter has been given his first installment so that he can begin work on the set, the costume designer is in the process of getting measurements for everyone, the lighting designer is pondering options for creating light boxes (BTW as a sidebar you might be interested to know that a big part of being a lighting designer is sitting observing the wonderful world of light. I know a fantastic husband and husband team of lighting and set designer, and the set designer has often remarked that it appears his partner is not working at all until production week. But I digress), and I'm working my thoughts about blocking out in evermore detail. The conductor has already had individual coachings with several of the singers, and the chorus will have its first rehearsal on Monday. Speaking of the chorus, we're still in need of one more soprano, so if you're a soprano reading this and you're interested, send me an email.

The first production meeting for Tobias and the Angel has also taken place. This piece continues to challenge us all to think outside the box so be prepared for many things which you may not have seen at OV before: puppetry, abstract choreography, surreal lighting, self-illuminating fabric, well the list goes on. But more on that in ensuing months.

AND - here's my own personal point of pride at the moment - this morning I finished translating the last musical number of Orpheus in the Underworld. WOOHOO! Now to whip through the dialogue, a task so much easier since dialogue doesn't have a rhyme scheme, a meter, or any of those other annoying things mentioned in my previous post about translation. So things look good for the October 1st deadline that was put in all the singers' contracts.

Finally, singers continue to send in their materials to be considered for an audition. Since my blog about that whole ball of wax, the packets have been complete and professionally appropriate. Behold, the power of the blog! Just kidding, it might just be complete coincidence, but whatever the cause, it's very nice.

So that's about it on the OV front. I hope that all of you are transitioning into the "back to school" mode with a minimum of melancholy and regret. Perhaps a trip to the local 5 and dime (now there's a phrase that certainly dates me) to buy a new notebook, some colored pencils, a fresh tub of paste and a protractor will take the edge off. It always worked for me, but then again, I was kind of a "learning geek". Anyway, I hope this post finds everyone reading it engaged in something energizing, empowering, and enjoyable, and, as always, See you at the opera!

John Bowen