Chicanery

Many of you have probably heard or used the term Schikanederei at some point in your lives. This is the German spelling. In English, the term is spelled Chicanery. It means "deception, fraud, evasion, and use of tricks to accomplish something." Now, maybe it rings a bell.

I listed the German spelling because of the word's etymology, or origin, because it has its ties to one of my literary heroes. I hate to say it, but I found the whole thing rather interesting as I was reading Emanuel Schikaneder's biography this week. Even though I'm disappointed to hear his name associated with such a negative word, I've still not dropped him from my hero's position because his name is associated with the greatest Singspiel/Opera ever written: The Magic Flute which was composed, of course, by Mozart.

Schikaneder's role in Mozart's life is beautifully portrayed in the movie Amadeus. He's the fellow who locked Mozart in his country home to get him to finish the music for The Magic Flute, and he was one of Mozart's truest friends. In fact, he was one of the few to realize, at the time, Mozart's genius.

Schikaneder was a theater man his entire life. He owned one of the most popular theaters in the suburbs of Vienna, and he focused on popular works for the average Viennese citizen. He directed and starred in hundreds of plays, ballets, Singspiels, and a few grand operas. The Magic Flute was the most famous production he ever produced, and he wrote the libretto while Mozart wrote the music.

The Magic Flute was Mozart's last major work before he died, and it is regarded by music critics all over the world as his greatest accomplishment. It is a masterpiece, and the music is so moving that it brings you to tears just listening to it. I have been in the habit of listening to it every day over this past week, and it soothes me when I write. In addition, it still holds the record for the number of performances given within the first year of release, the first decade of release, and forever, as a matter of fact. No other opera has been performed as much.

Unlike most of Mozart's work, The Magic Flute was recognized as an immediate success by his peers. It was not only popular with the masses, but people like Salieri and Beethoven recognized it as genius. It is a shame that Mozart died soon after. Only in his mid-thirties, he had so much left to give the world, and he was getting better with each and every composition.

The one criticism of The Magic Flute is the libretto which was written by Schikaneder. Although, after reading it through many times, I do not understand why it's criticised. The major criticism is that he "flip-flopped" the plot of a famous fairy tale of the time, and his use of words were weak. In defense of these decisions, "flip-flopping" a popular fairy tale is actually pretty genius. It gives the audience something different than they expected, and it actually works in the Singspiel's favor, especially at that time. It was different, and there is nothing wrong with that. To me, that is creative thought, not a flaw. And insofar as his use of common language, what was wrong with writing for the average person instead of the elite? In fact, they were his audience.

So, in my opinion, Schikaneder deserves as much credit for being Mozart's great librettist as does Da Ponte, and that is why his picture hangs on my wall of heroes. But what happened after that is a little unfortunate, and that is what led to the word we now know as "chicanery." After Mozart's death, Schikaneder had a theater to run, and it was common, in those days, to produce new work after new work. In other words, there was no revival of old pieces. People wanted to see new operas and Singspiels just like we want to see new movies today. Someone had to write them, and because he was a librettist and owner, Schikaneder usually wrote all of the productions along with whatever composer he had hired at the time.

The problem, however, was that he had to write between four and eight operas/Singspiels per year, and that's a lot of writing. In addition, he owned the theater, he hired the actors, he directed all of the performances, and he managed his production crews. He did all of this as well as serving as financial manager. So, he was a very busy man. As a result, his librettos began to grow weak, his rhymes were horrible, and his plots were bad. There just wasn't much behind the story.

To make up for this, Schikaneder used elaborate stage sets with mechanical devices that were cutting-edge theater technology. He knew that, by making the scenes look great and by doing fantastic things on the stage, he could overcome the weakness in his writing. You see, it's not that he couldn't write well. He proved that he could with his collaboration on The Magic Flute. He just did not have the time to devote to it, and he was too cash-strapped to hire a full-time librettist whom he would have had to share his profits with. Even though he was selling out every night, it seemed that he could not control his personal spending, and his lavish lifestyle always kept him from having financial security.

While the masses loved the theatrical effects, the critics could see what he was doing, and they claimed that he was using special effects to cover up a poorly written libretto. This, they called Schikanederei or chicanery. And that is where the word comes from.

Although I hate to admit that one of my favorite writers bears such a bad reputation, I cannot ignore it. I only wish that, instead of having a hand in everything, he would have stuck to writing librettos only in collaboration with the great composers of his life, just as he did with Mozart. Had he done so, we probably wouldn't have a word like chicanery in our vocabulary. Had he done so, we probably would have had many more wonderfully-written magical tales set to music.