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TIME: Almanac 1995
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<text id=93TT0055>
<title>
Oct 18, 1993: Marilyn Monroe At The Opera
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1993
Oct. 18, 1993 What in The World Are We Doing?
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
MUSIC, Page 95
Marilyn Monroe At The Opera
</hdr>
<body>
<p>Her story shapes the latest in a wave of dramatic, accessible
new American works
</p>
<p>By MICHAEL WALSH
</p>
<p> Samuel Johnson, in a famous aphorism, once derided opera as
"an exotic and irrational entertainment." That may have been
true in London two centuries ago, when castrati sopranos warbled
Handel in Italian before an audience of uncomprehending Britons.
But during the past two decades, a wave of new American operas
has put the lie to Johnson's dictum. One after another, composers
have produced works teeming with powerful drama, accessible
idioms and contemporary relevance.
</p>
<p> Since the premiere in 1980 of Philip Glass's Satyagraha, which
depicted the origins of Gandhi's nonviolent pacifism, operas
have taken on such subjects as the thawing of the cold war (John
Adams' Nixon in China), a horrifying mass murder (John Moran's
The Manson Family) and the life and times of a fiery black radical
(Anthony Davis' X). Throw in William Bolcom's 1992 McTeague,
a setting of Frank Norris' wrenching turn-of-the-century novel,
and Steve Reich's The Cave, a challenging examination of the
roots of the Arab-Israeli conflict that gets its American premiere
this week in Brooklyn, and you have something like a Golden
Age of American opera--boasting a body of work that ranks
among the best, most innovative and most popular "serious" music
of the past half-century.
</p>
<p> Why now? For one thing, the collapse of the musically totalitarian
12-tone system has enabled a thousand melodic flowers to bloom.
No longer do the words contemporary music mean two hours of
agonistic screaming and clangorous orchestral Klangfarbenmelodie.
For another, audiences raised on show-biz special effects demand
large-scale spectacle, and innovative opera producers have risen
to the challenge; not since the days of Meyerbeer at the Paris
Opera have set design and direction loomed so large.
</p>
<p> Last week the New York City Opera embraced the trend with not
one but three premieres on successive nights: Lukas Foss's Griffelkin,
Hugo Weisgall's Esther and, most provocatively, Ezra Laderman's
Marilyn (yes, that Marilyn). All three were designed by Jerome
Sirlin (who did Broadway's Kiss of the Spider Woman), a dazzling
visual stylist whose fluid use of video projections instead
of built sets annihilates space and time and gives his productions
an exhilarating sense of visual freedom.
</p>
<p> Sirlin's wizardry, however, has been lavished on a curiously
old-fashioned trio of composers. The best of the new works is
Weisgall's Esther, by a composer who turns 81 this week and
whose fondness for outmoded, Schoenberg-style serialism remains
unabated. The story of Esther's dramatic rescue of the Jews
from the evil Persian vizier Haman, celebrated each year in
the feast of Purim, is one of the Bible's most gripping tales,
and Weisgall, working to a libretto by Charles Kondek, has told
it well. Tunes, no; drama, yes. The stark and uncompromising
Esther is a powerful evening of musical theater, highlighted
by the electric performance of soprano Lauren Flanigan in the
title role.
</p>
<p> Griffelkin, inspired by Foss's childhood recollection of a German
fairy tale about a little devil who comes to earth to find love
and happiness, has been repeatedly composed, decomposed and
recomposed over the past 63 years (the composer, 71, wrote a
first version when he was eight). It is a modest children's
opera whose chief characteristic is its inoffensive, generic
amiability.
</p>
<p> Laderman's Marilyn, on the other hand, is for grownups. The
libretto by Norman Rosten, based on his 1973 memoir Marilyn:
An Untold Story, concentrates on Norma Jean's notorious love
life, tracing her downward spiral to a drug-induced death in
1962. Soprano Kathryn Gamberoni gives a breakthrough performance
as Monroe: after this, companies should be lining up to offer
her femmes fatales from Bellini's Norma to Berg's Lulu. The
opera, however, is as much of a mess as Marilyn was. Rosten's
lines (Marilyn to her half-sister: "How's your little dog Lollie,
the one with six toes?") are frequently ludicrous, especially
when sung to Laderman's plodding, semitonal noodlings. And the
decision to make Monroe the only real character, surrounded
by bloodless composites like the Psychiatrist, the Senator and
Rick, an ex-husband, forecloses any dramatic tension. (Where
have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?) Marilyn's life was larger than
life, but her opera is as stupefying as her film debut, Scudda-Hoo!
Scudda-Hay!
</p>
<p> Give City Opera points for ambition and for getting back to
its all-American roots. Still, pace Dr. Johnson, the wonder
of last week's tripleheader is not that the operas were done
at all, but that they were not done well enough.
</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>