The Librettist

You know, I'm inclined to believe that this may be the most rambling, disorganized post I've written yet. However, it matters not. There is no way to attack this topic without a little informality, and I intend to do it some justice. What I'd like to write about today concerns the "librettist."

Sherry and I went to Vienna, Austria, two years ago and had the time of our lives. Per our normal vacation routine, we made few plans except the fact that we had a hotel booked in a good part of the city, and we had tickets to a Mozart concert. Little did I know at the time that the tickets were for the day we arrived (I thought they were for the next day), so we were both suffering from jet-lag during the concert. We had an outstanding week in the city, though, and we saw many exciting things. We even took a day trip across Austria to Salzburg where Mozart was born.

I've always loved music, and one of my biggest regrets in life is quitting piano lessons when I got old enough to make that decision (I was teased into submission by classmates). I can still read music like a champ, but it will take lots of work to get my hands and ear back. Teaching my son, Ian, piano is helping me, but I no longer have ambitions to be a great pianist. I could have been, I believe. At least, I could have been a good technical player from a sheet music point of view. I always had an ability to understand the notes and hear them in my head, but I could never play by ear which is what the really great pianists can do. Ian can play by ear. In fact, that's pretty much how he prefers it. It's amazing to me to watch him play. If I can just give him the technical knowledge over time, I think he'll do well if he keeps playing.

I've never been a huge fan of popular music, per se, and I've always loved classical music. Now, classical music to me is just a generality for all music played by orchestra and all of the periods included, not just the "Classical" period. So, when we were in Vienna, "The City of Music," we saw a performance almost every evening. The most memorable evening was when we were able to get tickets to the famous Vienna State Opera House to see Mozart's Don Giovanni. It was an incredible performance, and I ate it all up. I just loved it, and it seemed so familiar, even though it was the first opera that I've ever been to.

Granted, I've been to several Broadway shows before with Sherry, but traditional opera was something new to me. Broadway shows are different, but I really don't know how to explain it. Perhaps they are the same, but opera has, in my opinion, an artistic, poetic side to it that Broadway does not. Broadway feels like opera-diluted to me. The poetry just isn't there, although the story lines seem more developed and focused.

There was something about the component that has driven me to research opera in more depth. I've learned so much about it over the past two years that I've almost driven myself to insanity studying the components of what it takes to produce an opera as well as the history of the golden age of opera (from Mozart to Puccini). What I found was poetry and music combined in such a way as to make the perfect art.

We all know the story of Mozart. We know how he lived and how he died, and we know that he produced three of the greatest operas ever. There are myths behind some of the operas that may or may not be true. One suggests that he wrote one of his operas in a week, turning in the final score with wet ink still drying on the night of the first rehearsal. However, what most people don't know is that the opera music itself was only half of the opera. Someone had to write the libretto for the opera. The libretto is the poetry behind the music. It is the story, and the librettist was considered the poet of the opera. For Mozart's three great operas, the man he collaborated with was Lorenzo Da Ponte.

While in Vienna, I became obsessed with Da Ponte and librettists in general because of my love of poetry and my infatuation with this new pure art that I had discovered. I bought everything I could find in English about Da Ponte there, and when I returned home, I bought every book about him, and I've read them all at least twice. As a result, I'm probably one of the experts of Da Ponte out there by choice. I even went so far as to begin a historical fiction about him because he led such an extraordinary life. It's an unfinished work right now, but if I can get my heart into it and breath more life into his character, I may find a way to finish it.

My study of Da Ponte led me to other great composers such as Wagner and Puccini. Wagner was one of the few composers who wrote his own libretti. He was gifted in that way. Puccini, however, relied upon many librettists to write his operas, and he had a very tumultuous relationship with many of them. The stories about these collaborations are fascinating, and the animosity between poet and composer, the quarrels, and the successes are ripe for a book in itself.

Through it all, though, I've had the most unusual fascination with these librettists for whatever reason. It's certainly not because I grew up studying opera. I read their words, however, and I read about their lives, and I seem to have a bond with them. It's like I can feel their emotions, their joys in success, and their frustrations in failure. I've never collaborated with anyone for a musical project, yet I feel the desire to do just that. It's very strange. Those emotions were extremely strong when I was in Vienna.

Since I love history, it's not unusual for me to have emotional reactions in historic places, but those feelings usually leave me alone after I leave the place. Time usually takes its toll, and I lose the interest. But in this case, it's never left me. These librettists have found a place in my heart. This is the reason why I want my next big trip to be in Italy. I want to go to the birthplace of opera and visit the museums of the great composers and librettists. I just feel compelled to do that, and I can't explain it.

It's not that we don't have songwriters and musicians today. Like I've said, we have Broadway, and then we have a plethora of songwriters who collaborate with bands. But it's not the same as the collaborations between composer and librettist during the opera's golden years. While we have some beautiful songs, they are just songs. They are not poetic narratives like the opera. And Broadway, while very close to opera in that it is a narrative, just does not share the poetic nature of opera. It's not the same art, and it doesn't evoke the same emotion.

Again, I don't know why I have this fascination. It's probably because I see a pure art staring at me, and I connect to it. But I am drawn to it very strongly, and I have a deep respect for the art, especially the art of the librettist -- the poet of the opera. Today, the composers get all of the accolades and attention, but back then, much of that attention was shared with the poet. For great music, they knew, could only be great if accompanied by poetic narratives. The words, to a degree, were just as important as the music and performers. At least that's how it was perceived during Puccini's time.

What's next for me, then, in this saga? I don't know. Perhaps I'm meant to finish that historical fiction on Da Ponte, or perhaps I'm meant to do something else. As a poet, I'd love to collaborate with someone and write a libretto for an opera in English. But that opportunity will have to come together on its own as if fate brought me and the composer together. I've really never had an interest to write a play, but an opera would be something I'd never pass up. I know that sounds odd since opera isn't that popular anymore, but I can't refuse my own interests. As a realist, however, I doubt it will ever happen as I do not know of any composer who needs a libretto, so it will probably go down as a dream that never happens. Such is life.