If you were to hook electrodes to my head (but please don’t) and could somehow measure what I have been thinking about over the last week and a half, I suspect that 95% of my mental focus has been directed towards John Gay’s “The Beggar’s Opera,” which is the J-term opera at Carthage. I know that it’s what I’m thinking about when I drift off to sleep and what I’m thinking about as I stir awake, and much of the time when I’m actually doing something else (feeding the dog, doing dishes, watching TV, playing Boggle, shaving) what’s really buzzing inside my noggin is whatever I happen to be working on with this fascinating score. (Which explains why the dogs have missed meals, our dishes look a little ratty, and I’ve been missing even more whiskers than usual.)
It’s been fun—- but tough— beginning with the auditions back in late November, when stage director Matt Boresi and I were inundated by talented students who wanted to be part of the J-term opera. Don’t get me wrong- as problems go, this is the very best one you could possibly have. . . but it took us weeks to sort through all of the intriguing possibilities before finally settling on the final cast. (I’m sure a lot of the students were ready to strangle us after being forced to wait so long. But it was a difficult set of decisions that we were not going to rush through.)
But once Matt and I had cast the opera, there was still so much to do. The reason is that “The Beggar’s Opera” (which premiered in London in 1728) is a work which almost HAS to be revamped each and every time it’s mounted. First of all, the score is not really original at all. Almost all of the music was based on already existing songs that those first audience members would have known- but what was new and even revolutionary was the very pointed, down-to-earth story which was told in the English language (rather than Italian, which had been typical of opera in London at that time) and which was incredibly irreverent, saucy, and even off-color. It was light years away from the stiff propriety of most opera of the day. . . and it was a sensation. (Imagine what it would feel like if “South Park” or “The Simpsons” or “Saturday Night Live” invaded the Metropolitan Opera.) Anyway, it’s the kind of work that almost begs to be revised each time it’s done – since it was such a crazy quilt of music from the very beginning – and in doing so, it can perfectly fit whatever array of singers one happens to have.
So that’s what Matt and I have been busy doing ever since finalizing the cast. . . figuring out exactly how we are going to showcase the singers we have— and not just those who are cast in the lead roles, but almost more so the super talented singers who are part of the ensemble. RIght before Christmas, Matt and I actually rendezvoused at a Border’s store down in Deerfield, Illinois (not far from where he lives) to have a face-to-face planning session, and I practically skipped out of there, so happy to have such a creative, energetic, and gracious collaborator. Since then, I have spent all kinds of time trying to create additions to the score that can be exciting showpieces; in most cases, I’ve taken an opera aria by Handel and tried to come up with English words to replace the original Italian – which has been an exhilarating as well as exhausting challenge. I’ve also been busy writing additional choral passages, since we have a spectacularly talented chorus that needs to be heard more than they would if we stuck to the original score (which gives the chorus very little to do.)
By the way, it’s basically impossible to order a score of the opera (unless you want to pay through the nose for an edition imported from England) but fortunately there’s a score now in public domain from which we’re free to copy, so I have been living at Office Max over the last couple of days, getting things copied and collated. Today was very interesting because both of the self-serve machines were out-of-order, so I was actually allowed to go behind the counter and use the main copier- which is blazingly fast! (It was like switching from the Model T Ford to a Porsche!) As a result, I walked out of there with all I need for today’s first meeting/rehearsal with about twenty minutes to spare. Whew!
In addition to all of the expected first-day fun, there was also an amazing surprise. We had two students there who actually had not auditioned to be part of the opera, but who had managed to register for it all the same. One of them turns out to be a member of Carthage’s football team (I think he’s an offensive lineman, and looks quite imposing, sort of like the guy in “The Blind Side”) who had never been in an opera before. . . and I’m pretty sure had never even seen one. But he had taken Introduction to Acting and enjoyed it and perhaps thought that this would be a way to get onstage and do something. It was with a bit of trepidation that Matt and I took him aside for a private audition after rehearsal was over. Would he have a decent voice and decent ear? Or would he be a hopeless monotone? I can’t begin to describe what it felt like for Matt and I when this young man opened his mouth and this truly lovely, warm bass-baritone voice rolled out of him. Moreover, he proved to have a fine ear, meaning that he would have no problem learning the music. So this was a fabulous and very welcome surprise for us….. and offered lovely comfort in light of the bad news that one of our best freshman baritones had to drop out of the opera because of a class conflict. Who would have guessed that this hulking football player would ride to the rescue? Incredible! How nice that life isn’t limited to the script which we would write for it!
So now the real fun begins- as together we wrestle with this intriguing work and its timely story of greed run wild and of the sobering reality that you can be on top of the world one day and taking a sponge bath in a trash can the next day.
pictured above: This is a shot I took of one of my voice students, Josh Hamm, during his audition for the opera. In the mirror behind him, you can see the reflection of my colleague Matt Boresi.