Brief
personal history of how opera came into my life:
Neither my
parents nor my peers listened to classical music or opera so I never really got a taste for it, until recently. The closest I got to opera is that my parents liked
musicals and would take us kids to see them on occasion. I listened to
rock n' roll and folk music, and that was pretty much it into my thirties, after which my partner Leslie added Frank, Ella and the like to broaden my tastes.
When
our friend Lisa asked us if we wanted some tickets to the SF Opera,
we said yes, but not with high expectations. Just for the experience
of “going to the opera.” This was 1989, soon after our big earthquake. (A huge net that was strung from the ceiling at the opera house protected us from concrete dropping on our heads. And, yes, there were several chunks in the net.) The tickets were for Madame Butterfly, Puccini's
tragic opera about—and this is my take, not the normal
encapsulation—a delusional Japanese geisha who thinks that her
married-her-only-for-sex American military husband, gone three years,
will return for her. When she learns the truth, she kills herself. This is the most famous (and beautiful) song from the opera, centered on her delusion.
I had suspected that I would be bored during the opera, as I often was listening to classical music. And, in some parts, I was. Plus I couldn't really hear the soprano. But at the end, I cried. I like to cry, so that was a big plus. I wouldn't say I had become a big fan, but I was willing to do it again.
Two
years later, Lisa offered us tickets to Carmen. (Thanks, Lisa!!) It's
the story of a passionate Gypsy woman who makes clear to men—like here—that she is both a free agent
in love and not a good bet for long-term commitment. Because he
can't keep her, one lover, Don Jose, kills her. (Yes, many
operas end with deaths. "It's not over until the fat lady dies
singing" should really be the saying.)
I
truly enjoyed the opera, finding Carmen's fatalistic tragedy moving.
Many of the arias were familiar—mostly because of their frequent
use in commercials like this or in movies like this—and
that was a plus, but I also liked the whole production, the story, and was
never bored. (The date was October 20, 1991, which I can remember
because, from the balcony at intermission we saw a far more
devastating and real tragedy developing across the bay: the Oakland
firestorm, which claimed the lives of 25 people.)
Leslie
happened to have a excerpt album of Carmen, so I began to listen to
it, a lot. I wasn't up for listening to the full opera, but I
certainly liked listening to the “hits,” such as the Seguidilla.
Or the always fun Toreador song (here performed in a flashmob—there are no subtitles, but the singer is bragging about his skills as a matador. Bizet, the composer, made up the term toreador, because it scanned better with the music than the word matador).
Opera
met acid sometime in 1994. We had some tabs that a friend had given
us years before though we rarely dropped at this point in our lives.
But I thought it would be fun to take LSD and listen to a variety of
music. I was alone that day and totally enjoyed playing DJ for
myself. The highlight of the day was the excerpt album of Carmen with
the Jetson's theme song a distant second. "Meet George Jetson" was
great fun, but the opera was awesome.
Several
years later, I bought a full version of Carmen on LP (used, for $5) with Anna
Moffo as the lead, and decided to listen to the entire opera while on LSD. OMG! It was a revelation and turned my life in a new direction. I had closed my eyes while listening to most of it, and through the power of the music and the drug, I went into a sort of
super-empathic state enhanced by a process of personal and
historical intertwining in my imagination. It was an all-consuming
experience. To say it was the most satisfying artistic experience of my life is to vastly understate. Nothing ever had come close to this before. Wow.
I wanted more.
I wanted more.
Well,
that started me down the path to find more operas and repeat this
experience with different stories and composers. But I had no idea
what I might like. I started buying up second-hand operas (Tosca, La
Boheme, and La Traviata were the first three).
The
next time I took acid, I listened to bits of those operas and a
variety of classical music Leslie had on hand: Beethoven, Bach,
Mozart and—the acid winner for me, by a long shot—Debussy. I
immediately bought his one opera, Pelleas and Melisande, the first I
purchased at retail prices. It's a great opera, but certainly not
considered a beginner's opera as it is musically complex without arias. But acid is a short-cut to appreciation for musical complexity, so
that was certainly not the case for me.
Since
this blog is called Wagner Tripping, I guess it would be best to cut to the
chase. Wagner entered my life via Opera for Dummies. The book came
with a CD of excerpts of various operas with annotations. Track
number nine was the Leibestod, from Wagner's Tristan and Isolde. (I did not try to find a link with subtitles because
I think it is far better to listen with your eyes closed, though the soprano here, Waltrud Meier, is riveting to
watch.) The first time I listened to this CD I was on acid. I had no idea what
Isolde was singing about at the time, but it was clear she was
becoming very aroused and then had an orgasm, and I was right there
with her. My body responded involuntarily to this deeply erotic
work. And the music was simply gorgeous. (I wrote about Wagner's Erotics here.)
Once again, I wanted more. I rushed out to buy the full Tristan and Isolde, and planned my next opera trip around it.
When I did listen: If Carmen was, on my personal Richter scale, a 7.5, Wagner's opera was a 9. Many say that Wagner isn't a good choice for the opera beginner, but I beg to differ. It was love at first listen.
Once again, I wanted more. I rushed out to buy the full Tristan and Isolde, and planned my next opera trip around it.
When I did listen: If Carmen was, on my personal Richter scale, a 7.5, Wagner's opera was a 9. Many say that Wagner isn't a good choice for the opera beginner, but I beg to differ. It was love at first listen.
LSD
Musical Effects (and why opera is a particularly good medium for
experiencing them):
My
instant infatuation with opera is similar to this psychotherapist's
experience with his patients who used LSD with music as part of his
therapy:
A number of our patients, who were alcoholics and heroin addicts with poor educational background, developed such deep interest in classical music as a result of their one LSD session that they decided to use their meager financial resources for buying a stereo set and starting a record collection of their own.
I
think it is quite obvious that music affects our emotions
profoundly—just google “emotional response music” for ample
scientific confirmation. Now add acid and, as one academic paper puts it, “the ability of music to release emotion is greatly
amplified by the use of a psychedelic drug, which allows the
listener to project his personal experiences and visual fantasies
into the unfolding experience.” Exactly my experience.
Further,
studies (like this one) have shown that closing your eyes and listening to music provides an increased emotion experience. And, indeed, I have found
that to be the case on or off acid—it helps you narrow your focus and
thus concentrate and really let the music in emotionally and
intellectually.
If
you open your eyes while listening on acid, the visual stimulation
often overwhelms the listening experience; it's a distraction.
However, it doesn't mean you won't have a visual experience if you
close your eyes and listen to music on acid. In fact, it will be
richly visual, but just internal. And it will be your imagination with far more vivid imagery than you normally experience.
It's like you create your own highly personal movie to go with the
soundtrack that you have put on.
All
operas aim to give expression to profound human emotions and
feelings—of love, rage, jealousy, resentment, envy, compassion, and
so forth—through dramatic story-telling. (Even the “comedies” do this, as the
main difference between an opera comedy and drama is that no one dies
at the end of a comedy.) Other forms of
story-telling, such as many novels, TV shows, films, theatre and
ballet, also try to do this of course. But none of those other forms work well on acid. It is
difficult to read or watch any visual story-telling during a LSD peak
due to visual hallucinations and distortions. It's not that it can't
be a fun experience, but it doesn't tend to tap the deep emotions
that music does.
Listening
to any beloved music with eyes closed on acid will be an
intensely emotional experience, whether it be rock n' roll,
classical, jazz or hip hop. What opera allows is to wed that intense
emotional experience to a concrete story with resonance in your life.
For me, I greatly prefer operas in which the orchestration
is continuous and the music transitions fluidly so that my emotions
flow as the music does. A sung-through musical such as Les
Miserables would be similar to opera, of course, though for me the rich
orchestration and the exquisite vocals of my favorite operas are preferable to most musicals. While I have listened to my favorite musical, West Side
Story, on acid, the abrupt beginnings
and endings of the soundtrack take me out of the story – "Tonight"
followed by "Officer Krumpke" just doesn't cut it. It's just too
abrupt and, therefore, emotionally jarring.
Speaking of abrupt, next
post: I will finally focus on Wagner and his musical effects.
I admit I've never "Wagner tripped," although that's pretty much what happens when I listen to Wagner. My first impression of Act II of 'Tristan und Isolde' was that it unfolded very much like an LSD trip with an erotic subtext. Psychedelics and art are the definition of constructive interference.
ReplyDeleteHugely, hugely enjoyed this. While I was never inclined towards classical music myself and certainly not Western classical, I, however, found out in the last seven or eight years of my life that like eating fish, perhaps, it is an acquired taste that comes with maturity. What impresses me here is the gradient and definition of the author's learning curve that must certainly have been enhanced by LSD. Also the boldness of the writing and the richness of the descriptions. I did not know that the fat lady metaphor was related to opera. Oh, what a wonderful world!
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