I am currently engaged in perhaps the most exciting creative ventures of my entire life- the writing of my first opera. It’s a strange and unexpected fulfillment of something I said almost in jest at the banquet which opened Carthage’s current school year. This year is my 20th anniversary as a full time faculty member- which meant that I was asked by President Gregory Woodward (as were the other honorees) to say what was at the top of my ‘bucket lift.’ I really didn’t know how to answer that particular question, but something nudged me to say “write my first opera.” And four months later, lo and behold, I am writing my first opera!
(The reason, to make a long story short, is mostly practical. Over the last two years, Carthage’s opera workshop has done two of the three one-act operas that are part of Puccini’s trilogy “Il Trittico.” We are doing the third and final opera, “Suor Angelica,” this January. The problem is that this exquisite opera is for a cast comprised entirely of women – which would leave all of our talented men with nothing to do. That’s why I approached our stage director, Matt Boresi, with the admittedly crazy proposal that he and I craft an original work- a brief chamber opera- for our men. And we chose the story of the tragic 1972 Munich Olympics and the murder of 11 Israelis as the basis for our work.)
As the students of the January Opera Workshop gathered for our opening class on Tuesday, January 5th, we had the music for Puccini’s “Suor Angelica” on hand for the women …. and not a single note of music nor a single word for the men’s opera! We had the basic story and the working title “Black September.” But no opera. Of course Matt and I knew this even before we got to the choir room, but there was something about looking into the excited, expectant faces of those ten guys that brought the reality home to us: Matt and I have promised these guys an opera for them to perform! Now we have to deliver it to them! We knew we had plenty to do during our first several days of class: watch “Suor Angelica,” watch a documentary about the Munich massacre, conduct some extensive in-class discussion, and do some of Matt’s world-famous theatrical exercises for building trust and imagination. And of course, the women could begin work on the Puccini. But in the meantime, we had to begin creating this new opera.
Matt and I had exchanged a number of emails in the preceding weeks and even managed to spend an afternoon together in late December talking through the basic parameters of this project – plus all we had to sort out regarding the casting of “Suor Angelica.” We got just about all of the most important questions answered – but to me the single most important question that was answered was “can we do this?” And I walked away from that meeting believing that the answer to that question was a most emphatic “yes.” I could tell that Matt was as passionate about this undertaking as I was – plus he had the seasoned experience of someone who has already written the librettos for nearly a dozen different operas, musicals, pastiches and reviews. Plus, we had worked together seamlessly and joyously on a plethora of operas at Carthage. It’s been one of the happiest collaborations of my life, and now there was every reason to hope that this new kind of collaboration between us would work out just as well.
But then came that first weekend in J-Term as I awaited the first words of Matt’s libretto – and I suddenly dawned on me that I had placed myself in a situation completely foreign to me. In every composition I had ever written up to then, the words were either my own or words that I myself had chosen to set. This was going to be the first time that I would have words dropped into my lap that I would be expected to set to music, no matter what? What in the world would that feel like? And what in the world would I do if Matt sent me words that didn’t spark a single musical idea? What if I found myself banging my head on the piano lid in frustration? And what if I ended up letting Matt down? And the guys? It’s a good thing that I was frantically busy working on two choral works that same weekend or I think the worry would have absolutely eaten me alive.
The first actual words to Matt’s libretto finally arrived in my inbox sometime Saturday the 9th, but these two choral pieces had to be finished first- so it was actually not until Sunday morning, between services, that I took out my laptop, opened up my email, and began reading what Matt had sent me the night before.
And I almost cried.
The words sang.
Not quite literally, but in many ways the words sang to me. It was as this I didn’t even have to think about how the melodies should be shaped. They just appeared in my head as if by magic. It was extraordinary. I was incredibly happy- and in that moment also immensely relieved. I realized that I had placed my trust in Matt’s hands- and it occurred to me only after the fact that Matt had placed in trust in me as well. And come to think of it, those ten guys sitting in the choir room entrusted both of us to come through with a work that would be worthy of their tremendous talents. And their time. That’s why I could barely contain my tears as finally sat down to begin writing Black September.
Much to my relief, Monday the 11th went well. The guys seemed happy with what Matt and I had written for them – and appreciative as well. And I was also pleased that they were managing to learn the music as well as they were. The music I compose tends to be quite simple compared to most modern scores, but it still presents a challenge or two. But this group of guys is well-endowed not only with fine voices but strong musical skills as well. And they are a spectacularly cohesive team as well. (By the way, I can say the same thing about the cast for Suor Angelica. Wonderful voices. Wonderful musicians. Wonderful people. What a joy.) Matt and I could not be luckier in that respect.
And then something happened that made Monday an even sweeter and more exciting day. Towards the end of the Suor Angelica rehearsal that began the afternoon, one of our part time voice teachers, Kyle Saggett, slipped into the back of the choir room to listen in. And I could tell from the smile on his face that he was enjoying the ladies’ gorgeous singing as much as I was. Afterwards, he told me that he had been the chorus master for a Suor Angelica production back in graduate school, which is why he wanted to come listen. In passing, he mentioned that he was on campus to teach some makeup lessons but had a two hour block of free time before his lessons would be resuming- and he wondered if he could eavesdrop on some of the men’s rehearsal as well. That gave me a crazy idea. We had ten guys in the room, but there was an eleventh guy who would be joining us once he was done with student teaching: Mike Anderle was going to be portraying the crucial role of Dietrich Genscher, a German official at the time of the incident who was deeply involved in the negotiations with the terrorists (and who at one point offered his own life in exchange for those of the hostages.) Until Mike could be with us, I was going to have to pinch hit for him. Sheepishly, I asked Kyle is he would be at all interested in stepping in and sight-reading Mike’s part, which would allow me to focus a bit more on other matters. Kyle was thrilled to be asked – and happy to oblige! And he sang wonderfully, as I knew he would, and helped to make an exciting day even more so. And as he left just before we were done, he was kind enough to stop and say a few words to the guys about how lucky they were to be able to experience the creation of a brand new work being written for them.
So why did I call this blog entry “Christmas In January”? It’s because of something that one of the guys said after today’s rehearsal when Mike was able to actually stop by for the first time to hear some of the opera and sing through some of his music. As he chatted with some of the other guys, one of them said that each day this week …. Monday, Tuesday, and today ….. they’ve shown up to find new words and music. “It’s like every day is Christmas,” this student exclaimed – and I know what he means. Each evening when an email arrives from Matt with new words for me to begin setting to music, I feel like I’ve been given yet another amazing gift from my good friend and colleague – to which I get to apply my own gifts as a composer – inspired in part by those words but also by the gifts of our splendid cast and their particular voices for whom I’m crafting this music. Combine all of that together and you have the makings of something that could be truly amazing.
On the other hand, Matt and I know that the time frame under which we are trying to bring this new opera into being is ridiculously, insanely, and outrageously short – and it’s certainly possible and perhaps probable that this work will not be finished or even close to finished by the time it is to be performed. But that isn’t stopping us from giving it all that we have. It reminds me of one of the most touching moments from the text which Matt sent me just last night – for a scene between two of the weightlifters who find themselves reminiscing about a past competition when one of them tried to calm the other one down with one of his favorite Hebrew sayings: L’fum tzara agra. “According to the effort is our reward.” I don’t know exactly how all of this is going to end – and for that matter, neither Matt nor I even know how the opera itself will end. It has yet to be written. But I do know that we are giving it supreme effort- as are the guys- and in some ways just being able to experience that is reward enough.
(The double bill of Puccini’s Suor Angelica and the new chamber opera Black September (or at least an abridged version of it) will be performed on Feburary 5th and 6th – 7:30 p.m. – in Carthage’s Siebert Chapel. Admission is free and the public is warmly invited to attend.)
Photos: At the very top: The guys in Black September rehearse in Siebert Chapel for the first time this term. 2) Librettist and Stage Director Mike Boresi leads the cast in a discussion about their characters. (Seated next to him is Tessa Sundstrom, the stage manager.) 3) Matt and I at our lunch meeting before Christmas at the Chicago Claim Company at Northbrook Mall. 4) The first pages of Matt’s libretto and my score. 5) Voice teacher Kyle Saggett, who sat in on our read-thru of the opening scene and ably filled in for Mike Anderle, says a few words to the guys. 6) Mike Anderle sings through his music for the first time. He portrays Genscher, a German government official who heavily participated in the negotiations with the terrorists- and went so far as to offer up his life in exchange for the hostages. In our opera, Genscher acts as something of a narrator looking back on these terrible events. 7a.) Our brilliant cast for Puccini’s Suor Angelica sings in Siebert Chapel for the first time this term. 7b.) Matt talks to the cast of Black September.