HOW TO LISTEN TO AND ENJOY OPERA.
Feelings of disappointment—Expectations—The language
difficulty—Why the story is hard to follow—What
we go to the opera to hear—Some suggestions—To
grasp the story—To realize the style of the music
—Re-hearing necessary—How to begin to study opera
—What is necessary for its enjoyment.
In penning such a chapter as this, I have no desire to lay down the law
to those older and wiser than myself, nor do I wish to be didactic,
or to instruct where no instruction is needed. The musician and the
opera-_habitué_ will not need telling how to listen to opera, nor how
to enjoy it; nor should I be thanked for attempting the task.
[Sidenote: =Feelings of Disappointment=]
At the same time it must be borne in mind that to the very large
majority of young persons their first introduction to opera raises a
feeling of disappointment. People vary much, and there are those to
whom the charm of music is so great that the most unfamiliar harmonies
will convey delight to their ears and satisfaction to their mind. But
this is exceptional rather than the rule, and it is to be feared that
the neophyte, visiting the opera in a state of glorious ignorance,
generally comes away with an inglorious feeling of unrealized ideals
and unattained expectations.
[Sidenote: =Expectations=]
To the average school-girl, for example, opera suggests various
fascinating details read about in books and papers; such as beautiful
singing, the presence of fashionable and brilliant persons, possibly
of royalty; tiaras of diamonds and gorgeous costumes, and a thousand
and one other trifles which may or may not come up to expectation. Even
if they do, the excitement of such extraneous attributes as these soon
palls, and the girl is left to reflect on the opera itself, which is
perhaps the most fruitful source of disappointment.
For I would here assume what I take to be generally the case, namely,
that the boy or girl paying a first visit to the opera has no real idea
as to what is in store for them; and the excitement of the first entry
into the large and brilliant house, with its crowd of well-dressed
people experienced, a series of miniature shocks awaits the novice,
whom, for sake of example, we may take to be an averagely intelligent
and musical girl of sixteen.
[Sidenote: =The Language Difficulty=]
It does not take her long to discover that she can understand the
meaning of hardly any word sung on the stage; a word or two here and
there may be caught and mentally translated, but hardly sufficient,
unless the girl be specially conversant with French, Italian, or German
to piece things connectedly together, or to gather enough to follow the
sentiments expressed: a little natural irritation at not knowing what
it is all about ensues.
[Sidenote: =Why the Story is Hard to Follow=]
The words not being caught, as they would in an ordinary play in
the vernacular, it is difficult to follow the story which is being
unfolded; an ordinary stage piece may be intelligently followed by a
deaf person by means of the eye, but in opera, situations must develop
more slowly owing to the musical setting, and there is generally, so
far as stage work is concerned, a minimum of action; it is therefore
quite possible for our young lady to leave the theatre with the very
barest notion as to the plot of the opera she has witnessed. Should
the work witnessed be of a very popular character, such as _Faust_,
various numbers in the music will appeal to her ear as being pleasantly
familiar; even in such a case as this, however, there will be much that
falls strangely, while with the majority of works the music would be
so new that only a confused general idea would be carried away. Not
following either the language or the story, the music would be but
another factor of confusion to our inexperienced girl, and especially
would this be the case if the work presented were of a modern nature,
or in a style to which she was quite unaccustomed in any phase of the
art.
Such, to my knowledge, are some of the feelings experienced by young
people taken to the opera for the first time; first impressions are
strong, and a feeling of distaste thus inculcated may be hard to
eradicate. Before considering how such wrong impressions might be
prevented, or at least modified, we must again consider briefly what we
go to the opera to hear.
[Sidenote: =What we go to the Opera to hear=]
It is not merely beautiful singing, for that can be heard more
effectively from the same artists in the concert hall, when they
are unhampered by the necessities of stage-action, costume, and
make-up. Nevertheless, there are those who are content at the opera
with this alone, hence the popularity of certain Italian operas, the
success of which depends almost entirely upon pure vocalization and
expressive singing with support of little in the way of stagecraft or
dramatic truth. Nor is it excellent orchestral playing that is the
main objective, for that, too, can be better heard in the symphony
of the concert-room. Nor is fine acting the main consideration—for
that we must visit some temple of the drama; nor is it the wonderful
development of stage appliance, the marvellous scenic displays, or
electric lighting devices that call for comment: these can be better
seen in some house mainly devoted to spectacular presentation.
It is none of these in particular for which we go to the opera, but
rather for the combination of them all, which forms the characteristic
feature of that complex aggregation of various arts of which opera is
constituted. And seeing how many-sided and complex an art-growth it is
with which we have to deal, small wonder is it that real appreciation
for its numerous points comes but slowly, and only subsequent to
experience, perhaps to study.
[Sidenote: =Some Suggestions=]
Now experience and study are just the things of which our imaginary
young friend is quite unable to boast, hence the confused and mystified
mental condition in which she, in all probability, leaves the opera
house. Although easy to diagnose, the remedy for this state of things
is more difficult to seek, but perhaps the following suggestions may be
made:—
[Sidenote: =To Grasp the Story=]
First of all, I would advise, make some attempt before going to the
opera to master the details of the plot or story; there are many
means of doing this: in all the operas published in Boosey’s Royal
Edition the plot is plainly set out at the beginning, and any work not
published there may almost certainly be found with its story simply set
forth in a book entitled _The Opera_, by Streatfield.
This done, some idea of what is taking place upon the stage can be
grasped, and even perhaps some sentences of the libretto followed.
Without such help, plots with so much movement and incident as even
_Lohengrin_ or _Siegfried_ may be hard to grasp; but do not make the
mistake of taking a copy of the music or libretto into the house with
you; the auditorium is generally too dark to admit of their use,
and even if this be not impossible, frequent cuts make following a
difficult matter.
[Sidenote: =To Realize the Style of the Music=]
Having realized the plot, try to get some idea of the _style_ of the
music, that is, whether it is an opera of the older classical school
(Mozart, Cherubini, Weber, etc.), in which case it will split up into
airs, duets, finales, etc., with music somewhat in the manner of
the familiar sonata; or if perhaps it be an Italian work (Rossini,
Donizetti, Verdi), with the same sub-divisions, but of a more tuneful
and simple nature; or if a work of the “Grand Opera” school (Spontini,
Meyerbeer), with massive stage effects and pompous musical utterances;
or again, perhaps a modern work in the Wagner manner, with continuous
non-divided music, and without definite tunes (melos and not rhythmic
air); in this latter case, one or two of the chief _leit-motiven_
might be memorized, but I would not advise this class of opera for a
first experience; it is too advanced. In any case, do not go without
some clear idea as to the manner and style of the music to be listened
to; if any of the work can be played through and made at all familiar
beforehand, so much the better.
[Sidenote: =Re-hearing Necessary=]
With some sort of nodding acquaintance with the plot and the music,
enjoyment may be attained if the work be not too complex; but even then
I would say that it is not very easy to appreciate an opera at a first
hearing; so that if opportunity arises for a second visit to the opera
house to be paid, choose the same work that you have already heard. A
first visit does little more than create an impression; a second visit
will renew old impressions and convey further ones; a third visit would
enable one to be on the look-out for special parts which have made
special appeal; a fourth visit would, as a rule, constitute thorough
enjoyment, provided the work be well performed.
Of course there are some operas which can be easily appreciated at a
first or second hearing, but these are the great minority, and I would
suggest four visits before any judgment is passed; for an ordinary
amateur to hear a new work and either praise or condemn extravagantly
is nothing more or less than presumption; the more experienced and
capable the critic, the more reserved is his judgment. Undoubtedly, for
the more complex operas, four visits, unaccompanied by private study or
by rehearing of the music, would be insufficient.
[Sidenote: =How to Begin to Study Opera=]
Begin with simple operas: such works as _Faust_ and _Carmen_, the
tunes of which are already known to a large extent, at once suggest
themselves; and perhaps in the same category, although in a very
different class, may be placed _Lohengrin_ and _Cavalleria Rusticana_;
after a course of easily grasped works, more exalted creations,
such as _Don Giovanni_, _Fidelio_, and _Die Meistersinger_, may be
approached; and finally we come to the serious works of Wagner’s
_Ring_, such operas as _Tristan and Isolde_, the beauties of which
are a sealed book to the inexperienced and the unmusical. As is the
case with every phase of every art, real appreciation can only spring
from real comprehension; that which is not understood cannot be
fully beloved. There must be a beginning and a gradual growth; love
for opera is hardly an inborn gift; rather is it a cumulative force,
fed by an ever-increasing knowledge, and by ever-widening critical
faculties. To love music, singing, or an orchestral performance does
not also necessarily imply an ability to care in the very least for so
polymorphous a work as opera, which must be a thing of separate study,
the more difficult in that it demands attention from so many points of
view.
[Sidenote: =What is Necessary for its Enjoyment=]
And when knowledge and experience are to some extent gained, become not
too critical, for that mars enjoyment; those whose love is freshest
for opera are not those unhappy critics who must perforce write a long
analytical account of a new work ere the final curtain has fallen upon
it, but rather those who have grown to cherish the musical phrases
for their own sake and for their inherent beauty, irrespective of who
may be singing them, provided the singing be good and correct. Love
for opera, although not lightly gained, is also not lightly lost; it
is a taste that endures and strengthens as time goes on and knowledge
deepens.