In search of Jewels

Of the regular questions we are asked about our repertoire of late Italian operas, the most common is  "where on earth do you find them?" Having been presenting these works for so long we often find ourselves unable to answer since it is hard to remember where a piece first came onto our radar; L'amore dei tre Re famously took ten years from first being discussed to finally getting a production. The truth is that in reality, whilst these operas now lay abandoned and forgotten (many argue for good reason) this wasn't always the case and once you begin to ferret around in the text books and internet resources, they become a part of a wider picture that begins to feels perfectly normal. I gioielli della Madonna by Ermano Wolf-Ferrari (who is more famous for his comedies and in particular I segreto di Susanna) enjoyed a kind of butterfly-brief stardom that many operas in the early 20th century shared.  They would be launched onto the public, flourish for a while, sometimes become staples of the repertoire and then vanish again. L'amore dei tre Re was a significant hit in America, being performed regularly for nearly forty years until the composer died, the opera's popularity perishing with him.

Controversy marked gioielli out; love between a brother and his adopted sister, implied attacks on the Catholic church, gangsterism, overheating passions, suicide and, horror of horrors, the pilfering of sacred adornments in the pursuit of lust.  What these operas of the veristic tradition did was take the core tenets of human nature and amplified them in often hysterical, febrile caricature, as unreserved and demonstrative as the simple, peasant folk they depicted. In their way they were breaking ground in their desire to offer uncensored, raw depictions of how badly we can behave when our loins are stirred but they wrapped it all up in a diverting and palliative sheath of beautiful music. Of course, today, none of it is even faintly controversial but at the time, some of these operas burned like acid through society. Gioielli itself was not performed in Italy until a whole 42 years after its German premier in 1911 (Wolf-Ferrari had a German publisher and his works were often premiered there) but when you consider that fifties Italy was still a fairly zipped up place one can deduce that the opera isn't quite the fire and brimstone sacrilege it was at first made out to be.  Even the Proms seemed in love with it, or more specifically, Henry Wood, with the preludes to acts two and three being given in 1912, 1913, 1914, 1915, 1917, 1922 and then not again until 1950 which was the last time the BBC went anywhere near it. In 2002, University College Opera produced it in a full version.

Wolf-Ferrari and other composers faced the almost inescapable problem of living in the shadow of Puccini and to some extent Mascagni and it is no coincidence that we have programmed the most famous duo in the verismo repertoire to open the 2013 season. If Cav & Pag was the birth  of verismo, gioielli represents the place to which the composers who followed took the genre, injecting German and French influence and a contemporaneous perception of greater daring and grit. As we know, what composers like Wolf-Ferrari, Giordano, Cilea, Zandonai et al hoped would be a new spring turned out to be a brief flowering. There is some irony that Leoncavallo, composer of Pagliacci is famed for that work and little else although he did compose good operas thereafter, including a La boheme that had the rug pulled from under it by Puccini. And whilst Mascagni's light began to burn more brightly alongside that of his fellow Tuscan, he was never fully satisfied with the public and critical perception of him, forever seeking new ways to articulate his music.

Musically, however,  gioielli  does indeed pay healthy homage to Mascagni but is more ambitious in its scope and certainly seems to be deliberately conceived to provide opera houses with an epic migraine in producing terms. It is huge. Indeed one could probably find reason to accuse the composer of pomposity (the score calls for 12 mandolins for starters) but it is also easy to believe that Wolf-Ferrari merely felt he wanted to create a mammoth piece of socio-realist spectacle that would take the breath from its audience by using scale and monumental orchestration; in our post-Olympic ceremony mega-theatre world we are in no position to criticise.  Neapolitan street scenes peopled by a chorus we will comfortably hail as our largest ever deliver deliciously authentic music that calls upon tarantella traditions. They are accompanied by an orchestra (also the largest ever at OHP) which punctuate the acts with four suites of bewildering variety, one of which outdoes Mascagni's Cavalleria intermezzo for pained, weeping gorgeousness. The opera even includes a duet between mother and son as he pours his heart out, echoing Cilea's L'arlesiana but with the added frisson of it being about his adopted sister (one wonders if the excision of blood ties was a last minute example of self censorship by the composer). And as with Pagliacci, the opera promotes itself on the claim that the story emerged from true events.  

A reality that all opera houses face is that audiences tend to gravitate towards the works they know. In fact, this isn't a problem only experienced by opera houses but there is a peculiar perception afoot that by presenting these works we are, by definition, asking audiences to consider them all to be masterpieces and as such they are frequently judged on that basis. The definition of a masterpiece varies from person to person and gioielli probably isn't one, but it is bloody good and a fantastic night at the theatre. Central among our reasons for presenting these works is that for all of their flaws (flaws, I should add, that are relative to our notions of perfection) they frequently contain moments of shimmering beauty that compare to -  or even surpass - anything in the repertoire. 

For sixteen years, OHP audiences have gathered in their thousands to hear and experience these curiosities and so we have little reason to complain about a reluctance to explore among our patrons. It is also true to say that any season without one is challenged by our supporters which is encouragement enough for us to continue resurrecting them.  

From top to bottom, we should applaud them

We are all, in some way, self-regarding in the arts world. Those who tread a stage (particularly an opera stage) have to be self-absorbed in many respects for theirs is a job of monumental difficulty; it is to their inner core that they must turn in order to dredge up the emotions that audiences wish to see laid bare. And those of us who engage the performers and the directors and conductors who, through their vision and creative talent, give singers the means to project themselves into our collective psyche, are prone (perhaps not unreasonably) to bask in the warm glow they produce.

The reward given by an audience - their applause - is a fleeting but pungent one. I wonder if all singers appreciate the effect that their gifts can have; is there a greater privilege than to be the last sonic memory of a satisfied audience member as they drift off to sleep, weary but content from their evening's entertainment? I can never, even as I approach my 24th season at Holland Park, claim a reward as profound as that and the pleasure is - must be - drawn from its facilitation. That is not, I hasten to add, a derogation of that duty, for opera companies have in their service countless individuals whose contribution is as critical and as potent as the delivery of a role in the Puccini canon. It is just that whatever glittering prize we are offered, whatever we ourselves may wish to perceive of our part in the process, it will never quite deliver the adulation of those whose talent we press into our service. Quiet contentment should indeed be reward enough.

The arts industry is, especially today, awash with the cult of personality. Too often the focus is on the people "at the top", or the PR stunts that propel them onto a few thousand twitter feeds and by which an industry appears to now be judged. Social media has given all of us the chance to blow furiously into our trumpets; that performers should use the medium to further their profile is understandable but it doesn't stop there. The "controversies" urged by executives too frequently overshadow everybody whose talent is engaged and paid for. I have to confess that in my early days at Holland Park, before we created our own company, my job was to write cheques that the quality of our productions couldn't cash but now it seems that arts companies congratulate themselves most lavishly for the message rather than the work being produced. Whilst those who create the actual art retain a presence, the recognition rarely goes further. Beyond the performer there is the technician, the operative who creates a space for wonder to take flight, the fundraiser, or the hard worked marketer who juggles vainly to lend credibility to the schoolboy pranks that pass for a corporate message who are frequently overlooked and put into folders of less significant binding, to be placed on a shelf that sits beneath all else. In truth, those of us who don't expose ourselves to an audience's judgement should all sit alongside them; only the truly talented, whose spotlight we all too easily elbow our way into, should be placed in clearer sight.

We are all prone to this self grandeur once our own visionary zeal appears to be paying dividends. We all like to be praised and admired, to be shaken vigorously by the hand by an enthused audience member or of our achievements to have journalists wax lyrical. But our real challenge is no more than to keep explaining our vision, to ensure its sustainability and to provide the environment for talent to flourish. Every bus needs a driver for sure; in the arts world, clever, creative people need managing, but those who built the bus, maintain it and make it tick should always be valued highly too.

When I went on stage at the final performance of the 2012 season for our traditional thanksgiving ritual, it was Julia, my colleague, to whom I felt compelled to fling most praise. To the singers and members of the orchestra I of course made admiring reference and the audience had roared its approval only moments before my eulogy. But no matter how many weird and wonderful operas I pursue, strategies I write, money I squeeze from willing pockets or arguments I may have with critics or the unimpressed, the graft of people like Julia is the lifeblood of the company. So is that of our operations manager, our production staff, our front of house team, our Friends, our box office operatives and many others besides. We simply do not exist without them. Period.

In truth, we are all sheltered beneath the same creative bell jar, no matter what the job or status of an individual. If managers and leaders of arts companies don't recognise that, if we believe ourselves to be indispensable, to draw walls around ourselves or consign others to different bunkers, we will have nothing to feel smug about as the souls of our companies are reduced to empty, tattered shells. Far too many people working in the industry tell me - often tearfully - similar stories of rampant management megalomania, of trite, pretentious theories and withering insecurities and bullying dressed up as leadership. I blanche and wonder if I do the same things but it needs to stop. The arts need to return to those who create it, to those who make it work, who serve it and tip themselves headlong and unselfishly into making it happen because when the wolves come calling, as they invariably do from time to time, we shall have nobody willing to stand in their way. They will have all left to do something else. I feel entitled to feel pride in having been present at the birth of our company but the thousands of people who support us don't leave our theatre thinking of me but of those who have thrilled them, hosted them, served them drinks and encountered them through their experience from the moment they booked a ticket. It is easy to forget that when we are told how good we are, when those ebullient handshakes go on and on or but we do so at our peril.

Voting for your favourite rarity? I don't think so

One of the obvious "secrets" about the cleverness of X Factor is that it allows the audience to tell the money-men whose records they would buy and in this context, in haughty taste-police fashion, I would compare it to turkeys voting for Christmas. As consumers we are seemingly happy to be duped by such processes but an argument persists that such public complicity results in a race to the bottom; where taste and motive are never challenged and where anything "new" will never see the light of day. Formulaic, lowest common denominator acts rule supreme. Alternatively, if someone does emerge onto the scene who has originality, the X Factor will find a procession of people who ape the style of that particular singer; so an endless stream of girls trying to sound like Adele or Amy Winehouse, vocal ticks and over-souling included, cover our screens on a Saturday night. It is, though, a successful formula and one wonders why opera houses and theatres have never tried it although I should add at this point that I am somewhat glad we don't as a rule, but there is something to be said for discussing repertoire with audiences.

On the one hand, if you put a season to the vote, you would be likely to get a long list of Verdi, Puccini and Mozart operas (because they are generally very good of course) but conversely, we are often sent lists of rare and unusual works that opera goers would love us to put on the stage. It is part of our purpose, we believe, to offer audiences something different, challenging perhaps and OHP claim a proud history in one particular aspect of the late Italian repertoire. Yet when we sit down to consider a season, we are not in a position to cast aside financial considerations and cannot indulge our own private obsessions with one work or another.

It happens all the time; talk, examine, make a few forecasts and then place the work back on the long term planning board. It took us ten years to believe Montemezzi's L'amore dei tre Re was a goer. There is a lovely story around that particular opera and sometimes things happen that convince you that your choices are good ones. It was in the season of 2005, I think, and during one afternoon, James and I had decided to finally press 'go' on the Montemezzi for the 2007 season. Later that evening, at the first night of one production or other, Tim Ashley of The Guardian was chatting to us in general terms about rare repertoire. "There is one opera", he said, "that you will never do but which I think is a masterpiece. Montemezzi's 'L'amore dei tre Re'". James shot me a look as if to say "Have you been talking to him?!" But neither of us had ever discussed the piece with Tim before and what we had thought was a risk was suddenly turned into something that felt right and, having revealed to him the nature of our decision that very day, Tim was as astonished at the synchronicity as we were.

True to say, we have always taken 'risks' but now we are in a position where many of our productions don't feel precarious anymore; that takes years to develop and it is pleasing in a way to report that some of our patrons have declared our forthcoming season, which contains I gioielli della Madonna, to be a little "safe".

How lovely it would be to have certainty in your audience figures before committing to expensive rarities. The odd thing is that we tend to be quite secretive about the works we are planning - for generally good reasons - but I don't think I am giving anything away by printing the list below. It is not a list of "works in the pipeline" or anything remotely close to being a display of works we WILL be doing. Indeed, I am not sure that both James and I have even discussed some of them together. But some are operas that hover in our discussions much of the time, that are given thought and examination. One or two have come very close to being produced but have then fallen at the final hurdle. One (I am not naming it) even got as far as being afforded a place on James's hallowed wall of cast lists before being unceremoniously removed when some last minute hurdles we felt unable to surmount were revealed. That, we like to think, is the discipline we have always been able to show in our production choices; we don't have money to burn after all and sometimes you just have to take it on the chin. That is also why we always include the infamous line that "management reserves the right to change the advertised programme" !

So for no reason in particular, I print below a random list of works that have in the past, or will in the future, feature in our thinking. Or won't at all. A few we have already presented and would be new productions or revivals. You won't be surprised to see that they are Italian and there are naturally other better known works from across the repertoire being considered. These, though are from our speciality rep. From time to time one notices that other companies take them on; Wexford are doing L'arlesiana now (a piece we have already created twice in separate productions) and Teatro Grataciello in New York, a company renowned for such revivals, has just performed Montemezzi's epic La Nave.

This last example demonstrates some of the problems with such works and why we don't see them. In 1943, Allied bombing of Rome destroyed all of the orchestral parts and only one full manuscript survived. Someone has to be bothered to read it, consider it and then preach far and wide in its favour. Since becoming utterly entranced with
Montemezzi's more famous L'amore dei tre Re, I have been fascinated by it, especially as the composer himself ferociously proclaimed it to be his masterpiece. Now, new parts have been drafted and the score is available for hire. But the mysteries around the work have been somewhat clarified; it was generally thought, for example, to be a very long piece (I had read it was over four hours long) but Teatro Grataciello's performance clocked in at two and a quarter hours. And Opera Today's review proclaimed that the music is "magnificent from start to finish". It went on to give a full description that offers a mouthwatering prospect for the curious and adventurous operagoer;

"Almost all the critics of the opera in the past agreed, whatever their other objections, that Montemezzi's orchestration and treatment of the choir were extraordinarily impressive, and the New York performance showed they were right. The orchestration, clearly akin to that of L'Amore dei Tre Re, is Wagnerian, yet the Wagnerianism is refracted through an Italian sensibility, with a gripping nobility, sweeping, cinematic quality, lyrical voluptuousness, and restless play of instrumental textures. The sheer lushness of the score was beautifully brought out by Israel Gursky's passionate conducting of the Teatro Grattacielo orchestra."

My point being that there really are some gems sitting on shelves in archives and to be able to reveal them should be a longing of all of us in the industry.

So, all or none of the below may happen and I am stopping short of saying that anything with 500 votes or more gets a show. Naturally, when time comes to thoroughly examine a piece for the stage, we may well decide it doesn't stack up and it will vanish again. But there is no phone-in although perhaps a premium rate voting line would supply the funds for one of them?


Guglielmo Ratcliff (Mascagni)
Iris (Mascagni)
Zaza (Leoncavallo)
Risurrezione (Alfano)
La nave (Montemezzi)
Isabeau (Mascagni)
Siberia (Giordano)
La cena delle beffe (Giordano)
Adriana Lecouvreur (Cilea)
L'arlesiana (Cilea)
Il piccolo Marat (Mascagni)
Sakuntala (Alfano)
L'amore dei tre Re (Montemezzi)

Tedious

The past week has been extremely tedious for the build. The weather, doing its best impersonation of a tropical rainy season, has made every aspect just that bit harder. There was a moment of huge irony on Thursday as I stood in the pouring rain, speaking to Thames Water as they charged us six hundred smackers for permission to use a hosepipe in order that we could use vital cleaning equipment. The only upside has been the opportunity to fully test the watertightness of our new structures around the site (they passed).

It is getting harder and harder to create the theatre every season although this year has been a little more difficult because of changes to suppliers and contractors; changes that have ultimately brought benefits. We have a strategy of trying to reduce the visual impact of the site on the surrounding park which we have done very well indeed, even to the extent that this past winter, for the first time in my 23 years we were able to open the theatre site to the public. But doing so has meant some major changes in the way we do things.

What becomes ever more critical for us and our patrons is a need to create a theatre that is worthy of the wonderful work we do without losing the elements that attracted people in the first place. Years ago, it was the chance to be outdoors listening to a bit of lovely music without too many expectations. Now, people want to hear world class performers without compromise. It is a very fine balance to strike and we do get better at it every year but boy, is it hard. It gives me no pleasure to report that several people at this time of year sit anxiously at their desks waiting for their telephones to ring, in fear of hearing my curt voice when they answer it. After many years, i have a very, very annoying knack of spotting the tiniest detail; a carpenter looked bewildered when I pointed out a slight misalignment of some decking. I have to admit to a touch of OCD in this regard but a few years in the hotel business a couple of decades ago hasn't really left me.

Having said that, there are, across the year, hundreds of people who work very hard to create and maintain the OHP season and there is a significant sense of achievement when the spectacular space is complete. What we have to acknowledge is that whilst we see this magnificent structure, an enormously technical theatre and magical vistas, about a hundred people in total have slogged through quagmires, rain and puddles to get it that way. On a Grade I listed site. In a (small) public park. And with every notch we raise the bar, the expectations of the public and our company rise and the challenge grows. So when we go to the Dorchester on the 8th May to hear whether we have won the RPS Music Award for Best Concert or Festival series, it is for each and every one of those people that we will be hoping for success, including that carpenter, soaked through to the skin, on his knees in a puddle, who had to correct that one inch deviation.

Coming along.

A beautiful early spring now gives way to what promises to be a drought-busting deluge. It won't bust the drought of course. We will be told it is nowhere near enough and the disaster will remain close at hand, but we will nevertheless look gratefully to our roof to protect the carpenters, technicians and sundry other contractors from the Noah-like downpours as they put the theatre together.

The rain held off for most of the marathon yesterday which means James and Sarah had only to worry about aches and pains and not pneumonia as they admirably completed the course. Oddly enough, yesterday, as I was getting absolutely drenched on a walk back from the supermarket, I glanced at the time...1459. I knew that he was hoping to finish at a particular time which meant he was possibly getting drenched as he struggled through the final couple of kilometres. As it turned out, he was finishing at exactly that moment, the lucky boy! Sarah was a few minutes behind though..... A good few quid was raised for two charities as well so hopefully they will nurse their swollen feet and throbbing joints in the knowledge it was all for a good cause. Sarah can also worry about how she will face the next few weeks with pink hair.

This season promises to be one of the best ever and it gave us all a lift to hear that we have been shortlisted for a Royal Philharmonic Music Award in the concerts and festivals category. The 8th of May is the moment of truth.

As we prepare for this season we are, of course, looking well into the future as our transition board investigates the concept of separation from the council. There is a huge amount to be done and some quite complex planning to be gone through. It is frustrating to hear people dilly-dally (ludicrously in some cases) with the facts and it is probably a mark of the times that such a transition brings negative thoughts to mind first. It shouldn't. Not in this case. We also have our 2013 season on the wall and I doubt there will have been a season that better encapsulates what OHP is about. We will open and close the season with productions that are pure OHP and we will publish full details very soon. For crossword fans, a (simple) clue; lupine fast cars.

The theatre is about 70% complete and we have some superb new structures this year with a whole host of aesthetic enhancements. As I have frequently said, the trick is to create a space that offers the best of the outdoor "experience" whilst mitgating against the worst. Despite a few problems and delays we have still managed to get the seating structure up in record time and we are being very precise with our contractors, both financially and from the scheduling point of view. The build is a little more urgent because we open a stunning literary festival on 18th May organised by those fine people at Ways with Words. It really is a sensational line up, possibly one of the best of any literary festival this summer and booking for it is open right now. At the end of the season we have lots of cinema events to look forward to as well.

You are so spoilt.

A bit of info on independence

Since it was announced that OHP was in the process of investigating independence from the council, there have been, as expected I suppose, some peculiar ideas and theories floating around. The paper that was put to the cabinet on 22nd March (you can actually find the paper on the RBKC website) proposed the initial structure of an independent company and set out a framework of issues to be explored and examined by an interim board and several departments of the council. It also put forward a figure that the council should be planning to contribute should the move be made final; that amounts to roughly equivalent to the sum currently committed to the festival by the borough (about 18-20% of our turnover). Over the next few months we shall delve into the complex issues surrounding the creation of a new charitable company, assets, staff issues, funding agreements and sundry other matters. Everything we, our board and consultants conclude will be put into another decision paper for the council to consider in November. There is always a temptation in these situations to think that an arts organisation undergoing this process is in some way "in trouble" and the financial situation in the country only exacerbates this fear. However, in this case, we are looking at something designed to enable the continuing growth and development of an opera company that has emerged from a very unique set of circumstances. We have been proposing it for some time, in fact and it is a natural process to examine at this stage. The Royal Borough are, and continue to be, as committed as ever to Opera Holland Park. On that point, I can say that there is a very exciting season planned for 2013 (sponsored by Investec Wealth & Investment) and we will be announcing it soon. Meanwhile, you have about two hours from time of writing to get ready for the sale of Inspire seats for the brilliant double bill!

Oops

Correction to last post www.operahollandpark.com !

Inspire seats

The first round of Inspire seats go on sale today - online only. There are about 1200 seats in this release (at £12 each). We have struggled to find an equitable system to suit everybody but I fear we never shall but online seems to be by far the most popular method. It means some may have to spend time in the "virtual" waiting room and we have limited the number you are permitted to buy. I am sure there will be plenty of "feedback" ! tomorrow and Wednesday sees further releases for the remaining productions.

Please be patient. To get your seats go to www.ooperahollandpark.com