Even though the blog feature on my personal website has been active for a little over a month, it has taken me a bit longer than I anticipated to be able to schedule the time to write. Since April 26th, I have been in Fort Worth, Texas, to participate in the Inaugural Festival Season of Fort Worth Opera, which coincides with the company’s 60th Anniversary. It has been an honor and a privilege to be a part of this momentous occasion, and an experience I will not soon forget.

Tragedy Tomorrow, Comedy Tonight!

From the moment I arrived in Fort Worth, I’ve had the lyrics from “Comedy Tonight!” running through my head. My impression is that Fort Worth Opera runs quite efficiently with many fewer full-time staff members than other companies of similar size. As an artist who also manages an arts organization of my own, the analytical/business side of my brain always has one eye on the detail work that goes into producing artistic events from the ground up. I’m completely amazed at the variety of bases that have been covered in preparation for a successful festival. Very few (if any) stones have been left unturned, and the result has been incredibly smooth sailing from my point of view. I have wondered how so much gets accomplished here in Fort Worth with fewer minds and bodies to carry the burden of launching a new festival. I don’t believe that it is naïve to say that in this case, the difference has to do with people. Each member of the Fort Worth Opera family appears to fully participate with passion, a genuine love of the art form, and of the process. I know that they must be exhausted, and I know they have all worked countless hours, and yet they are all so excited with each new performance, premiere, and party!

A Playground for Artists

The business of being a good musician and colleague can be quite taxing for those who find multi-tasking the least bit daunting. It is a delicate balancing act to live and work so closely with a small group of colleagues for intense periods of rehearsal and performance, especially when you have an earnest devotion for the project at hand. My time in Fort Worth has been full of blessings so far. Festival formats (of which I do not have extensive experience) provide opportunities to catch up with friends from past collaborations, introduce yourself to new artists and music other than those to which you have been assigned, and take in the culture and offerings of a new city that becomes a little less foreign day by day. For me, the advantage of hearing some Verdi and brand-new Pasatieri while I work diligently on Puccini and Rossini has been invaluable. We do, after all, “play” music and have to constantly take time to remember what it is about our work that is fun and invigorating. Our “jungle gyms” and playing fields are the rehearsal rooms and theaters!

The Butterfly Effect

The majority of my first three weeks here in Fort Worth was dominated by the preparation and performance of my second foray into Puccini’s Madame Butterfly as the American consul, Sharpless. I sang this role for the first time three years ago with the Minnesota Opera. That experience remains one of the artistic high points of my career. My cast-mates, Judith Howarth, Marc Hervieux, and Kathleen Humphrey were brilliant. Judy and I were learning our roles simultaneously. We worked musically under the watchful eye of Anthony Walker, and dramatically under the careful tutelage of Colin Graham. I feel very strongly that the role of Sharpless pivots around his dramatic contribution to the plot. Colin helped me realize the importance of his role in the opera by suggesting that Sharpless is used by Puccini and his librettists as a device to mirror the audience’s emotional state as the drama unfolds. He is a truly honorable man… one who tries valiantly to prevent a tragic conclusion to a horrible chain of events. All the while, he recognizes that the cultural environment and societal mores render him almost powerless from the beginning. Delving into this character again has been wonderful, and feeling the experience deeply onstage is both difficult, cathartic and incredibly rewarding.

In Minnesota, Colin asked me if I was willing to follow Puccini’s direction for the arc of the character, which is given quite a bit of attention through his notes in the score. He wanted to experiment with turning our back on the rather stentorian way in which the character had been portrayed of late, and find a reason why (according to Puccini’s stage directions) he becomes so deeply moved and affected by the plight of this particular geisha. When I think about my characters, examine the text, and research the context of the piece, I’m also aware of a helpful dramatic tool offered to me by another fantastic stage director, Chuck Hudson. Chuck and I met when I was an apprentice at the Seattle Opera, and he has been a close friend and mentor ever since. Chuck has reminded me on more than one occasion that if my character is to be fully realized, he must have thoughts and feelings outside those that are revealed in the libretto. Some of those thoughts and feelings are shared with other characters, some with the audience when no one else is around, and some are kept entirely private to heighten an actor’s personal involvement and increase the “stakes” of the scene you are playing.

In discussions with Colin, I mentioned that Sharpless is the only character in the opera that appears to lead a rather solitary existence. He makes no mention of a wife or family who have joined him in Japan during the course of his tenure. We must assume due to his diplomatic position that he is somewhat conversant in Japanese, and is fascinated by (or at the very least, respectful of) Japanese culture. His post as an ambassador suggests that he is a skilled negotiator, and is committed to the idea that the Eastern and Western cultures can peacefully coexist through healthy respect and mutual admiration.

Sharpless Revealed

So here’s the “secret” that Colin and I settled on. Sharpless loves Butterfly. Love in one form or another motivates most happiness and conflict in any relationship, and is in my opinion, the best way to increase the importance of his dramatic intention. Now, whether Sharpless loves Butterfly paternally, romantically, or is more in love with the idea of her is still unsettled in my mind. After all, the home that Butterfly creates for Pinkerton is potentially what Sharpless craves in his own life. A beautiful Japanese woman offers her husband a home full of love, relenquishes the traditional role of a geisha, honors aspects of her culture and tradition, and shows an earnest desire to learn all she can about the life and heritage of her American counterpart. Were she a more appropriate age, I do think Sharpless would undoubtedly be in love with Butterfly.
As a singing actor, it is a terrific challenge to portray an honorable man whose ideal world belongs to another. Pinkerton is too inexperienced to fully appreciate the merits of life with Butterfly. Sharpless shares Butterfly’s common dream, and is forced to play an active role in its undoing. Consider a partal list of the stage directions that Puccini assigns Sharpless throughout the course of Act II:

(approaches and cautiously knocks at the door on the Right)
(anxious to explain the object of his visit, produces a letter from his pocket)
(again trying to resume the thread of his talk)
(tries to resume his talk)
(tries again to return to his point)
(sighing, replaces the letter in his pocket)
(Sharpless sits on the stool, and assumes a grave and serious aspect; with great respect, however, and some emotions, he invites Butterfly to be seated, and once more draws the letter from his pocket)
(gravely)
(takes the letter back and boldly resumes reading though his voice is trembling with emotion)
(taking a deep breath)
(rises quickly, and puts the letter away again)
(angrily)
(looks straight into Butterfly’s eyes, very gravely)
(Sharpless is deeply moved and walks up and down excitedly; then he turns to Butterfly, takes her hands in his and says to her with fatherly tenderness)
(embarrassed)
(is on the point of going out)
(making excuses)
(with emotion)
(more and more moved)
(cannot restrain his tears)
(conquering his emotion)
(bows to Butterfly and goes out quickly by door on the right)

Undeniably, Puccini did not intend the character to come across as unaffected, or unattached during his visit to Butterfly. For this scene, I am grateful to the composer every night I’m on stage. It is as intensely personal and moving an exchange as you could hope for onstage.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 29th, 2007 at 1:29 am and is filed under Opera, Stagecraft. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.