Words contain more than just a definition or two - they also contain associations, conceptions, and prejudices that are engendered the second that the familiar or piquant sounds of consonants married to vowels reach our ears. Suddenly, a kaleidoscope of memories, daydreams, and plot lines is enlivened on our eyelids. These pictures migrate from the eyes and into the bloodstream, reaching the brain, heart, and stomach until the bodily is thoroughly filled with whatever power that word harbors. And when something is that ingrained in your bloodstream, it's difficult to purify, rewire, and begin with a blank canvas.
Opera. What is opera? Everyone has a different definition of opera, but here is the most simple and succinct: opera is the plural of opus, which is the Latin word for work (work as in piece of work, artwork, composition, not as in "Girl, you betta WORK!" although that would not be entirely inappropriate.)
So that's it. There is no mystery behind this word; the mystery lies within how the word has been applied. The art form that we know as "opera" is nothing more than an amalgamation of different pieces of music by one or more composers. Right? Hardly.
Opera as we know did not emerge from some need for bombastic, social superior, and intentionally esoteric music. No, opera was born of the idea that words and music should match and enhance one another in service of...of what? The singer? The theater? Box office sales? NO.
Words and music should combine in service of the drama, the story, the plot, the emotions, you know all the reasons for which we go to the movies, or to the theater, or why we listen to really good pop singers like Adele. These late sixteenth century and early seventeenth century fellas were aware of the power and depth that music brought to dramatic verse and, reciprocally, the emotionally charge that the words brought to the music.
The term used by the nineteenth century German composer Richard Wagner "music drama," is therefore, more accurate than opera. Wagner's coining of the term "music drama" was in itself a reaction against opera. Opera to Wagner meant what he perceived to be the excesses of French and Italian grand opera. Wagner also had his other hang ups, which we don't need to get into, but his concept of "music drama" is important to consider when we look at the power of words. Now, music drama is an exciting term! It tells you everything you need to know about what opera truly is, and it is just far away enough for "musical theater" not to conjure up images of Idina Menzel. If you see stale red carpets, old chandeliers that suffocate you with their dimming lights, and emotionally disinterested rich people crowded into plus theatrical boxes when you hear opera, then maybe you need to take a second, close your eyes, and intake "music drama." Let those two words mesh in you head:
Music is drama, and the drama is told through the music. Music drama without music is just drama, and music drama without drama is just music. We call those things "theater" and, well, "music" or maybe instrumental music more specifically. If we add opera back into the question then we get "Opera without music is [just] drama, and opera without drama is [just] music." Without either one, the art form ceases to exist as a unique entity on its own. There is a certain je ne sais quoi that arises from the reaction produced from the combination of powerful with music with powerful words. This isn't restricted to opera, but also happens in GOOD pop music (re: Adele), musical theater, jazz, et cetera. But when you add a dramatic story that is enhanced and enlivened through the power of music alone, well, that is something very special that, if you will allow it, lodges itself into your soul.
And that is something that is very difficult to rewire.
On next episode: Why opera? The forgotten power of unplugged human expression.
An aural/visual aid. You don't need to know the words to know what is going on. Just open your ears and your heart!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBcLPqpSJ6g
