I like your layer theory, and especially your last paragraph, which hints at a less overt form of influence. I think Wagner's operas are more likely to worm their way into one's psychology than operas that pinpoint social ills. While the latter might seem more relevant (terrorism, school shootings, addiction), the former, i.e. Wagner's astonishing proto-Freudian insights about our interior landscapes, are able to profit from music that is as deep as those interiors require.
I’ve thought about that a lot in the Verdi/Wagner divide, and feel like both can be effective depending on the circumstances. And especially depending on the opera (some of my most miserable opera experiences have been at badly-staged Wagner performances).
I agree that Verdi can be just as effective. Badly staged Wagner performances tend to ignore the psychological undercurrents of the libretto. But I've seen many Rings, and I always sob in the same place, as though the music (and the words) were repeatedly opening the same deep wound.
I’ve never laughed as hard as I did sitting next to James Jorden (aka La Cieca) and a mutual friend for the final act of the LePage Götterdämmerung at the Met when the statues of the gods were wheeled out and their heads started to pop off like Christmas crackers. Each time we got ourselves under control one of us started up again. One of my favorite experiences in a theater.
Glad I missed the LePage Ring—unless, of course, I could have seen it with you and James. I never met La Cieca, but I wrote a review of Janáček’s From the House of the Dead in Basel for Parterre and corresponded with him.
I loved this opera so much. It's about addiction through and through, including its very form, but that wouldn't do anything without the character created by Susan Bullock, Gabrielle Turgeon, and Daniela Mack.
I like your layer theory, and especially your last paragraph, which hints at a less overt form of influence. I think Wagner's operas are more likely to worm their way into one's psychology than operas that pinpoint social ills. While the latter might seem more relevant (terrorism, school shootings, addiction), the former, i.e. Wagner's astonishing proto-Freudian insights about our interior landscapes, are able to profit from music that is as deep as those interiors require.
I’ve thought about that a lot in the Verdi/Wagner divide, and feel like both can be effective depending on the circumstances. And especially depending on the opera (some of my most miserable opera experiences have been at badly-staged Wagner performances).
I agree that Verdi can be just as effective. Badly staged Wagner performances tend to ignore the psychological undercurrents of the libretto. But I've seen many Rings, and I always sob in the same place, as though the music (and the words) were repeatedly opening the same deep wound.
I’ve never laughed as hard as I did sitting next to James Jorden (aka La Cieca) and a mutual friend for the final act of the LePage Götterdämmerung at the Met when the statues of the gods were wheeled out and their heads started to pop off like Christmas crackers. Each time we got ourselves under control one of us started up again. One of my favorite experiences in a theater.
Glad I missed the LePage Ring—unless, of course, I could have seen it with you and James. I never met La Cieca, but I wrote a review of Janáček’s From the House of the Dead in Basel for Parterre and corresponded with him.
I loved this opera so much. It's about addiction through and through, including its very form, but that wouldn't do anything without the character created by Susan Bullock, Gabrielle Turgeon, and Daniela Mack.
Saw Susan in Klinghoffer in Florence earlier this year and she was extraordinary. Love this contemporary career pivot for her.