Friday, March 16, 2007
Mute Opera? Controversial.
I have chosen to adapt the poem as an Opera. There are obviously high emotions at stake here, and what better way to express them than in a heart-wrenching, pant-wetting aria? Many ways you may think, but hey, I’m sticking with it.
I won’t be scoring the music, I’m not that talented, but I may have a go at a bit of the libretto, but just generally, I’ll do a treatment of the story, as that is, after all, what was requested.
The story will follow the life of an author from his childhood, through his adolescence, and, being opera, right to his death.
It will be set in 18th Century Paris, so me writing the libretto, on second thoughts, would be formidablé, but pretty much impossible.
As a child, Philip is doted on by his Mother, she reads aloud (singing obviously) to him from great works, and leads him to have quite an inward childhood, spending his hours reading, rather than socialising with other children.
At the tender age of 8, Philip loses his Mother to cancer, and is literally dumbstruck. He becomes mute from the trauma. The Opera then circles around him, he is a constant presence on the stage, but cannot say/sing a word. He instead turns to his writing to express his thoughts and feelings. His Mother also remains as a presence, though she has passed on. She visits him in his dreams, but he cannot see her, she wisps around his head, singing her message.
The Opera Chorus serve as an omniscient narrator, much like a Greek Chorus. They will sing both relaying the action, and a smaller chorus will sing Philip’s writings.
Throughout his adolescence, Philip remains solitary, until he meets Eleanor, a beautiful girl, who he instantly falls in love with.
Through adulthood, Philip and Eleanor have a traumatic relationship; Eleanor cannot cope. Philip’s silence becomes too much for her, she needs him to tell her he loves her, but Philip is not used to sharing his emotions.
Eleanor begins to have a secret affair with a passionate artist, Mauvére, who she sits for. He paints her, and sings in his beautiful, masculine baritone voice, complimenting her beauty, begging her to marry him.
Eleanor is tragically diagnosed with cancer, and Mauvére flees, chasing after a new beauty.
Philip’s Mother visits him in his dream, sweeping about his ears, rustling through the leaves. She implores him to tell Eleanor how he feels, to write their love on the page, and transform reality to art.
Eleanor lies sick in her bed, while Philip sits at the other end of the room, glued to his typewriter. The small chorus recite Philip’s writing, while Eleanor calls weakly for him, but the sound of the chorus, singing louder and louder, drowns out her weak cries.
Eleanor sings an Aria as she dies, Philip continues writing, committed to his work.
The chorus gets louder singing “Mon Amour! Mon Amour! Mon Amour!”
Philip triumphantly rips a page from his typewriter. His work is complete.
He turns to see Eleanor passed on, taken.
He falls to the ground, clutching a knife, and finally finds a voice. He sings out;
“Never seek to tell thy love
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears –
Ah, she doth depart.
Soon as she was gone from me
A traveller came by
Silently, invisibly –
He took her with a sigh.”*
He thrusts the knife into his chest, and falls to the ground, his hand falling just short of reach of Eleanor. He tries to stretch towards her, but he dies, with his love too far out of reach.
The End.
Oh, "Imogen - Phwoar!!".
Sophie x
*But in French!
I won’t be scoring the music, I’m not that talented, but I may have a go at a bit of the libretto, but just generally, I’ll do a treatment of the story, as that is, after all, what was requested.
The story will follow the life of an author from his childhood, through his adolescence, and, being opera, right to his death.
It will be set in 18th Century Paris, so me writing the libretto, on second thoughts, would be formidablé, but pretty much impossible.
As a child, Philip is doted on by his Mother, she reads aloud (singing obviously) to him from great works, and leads him to have quite an inward childhood, spending his hours reading, rather than socialising with other children.
At the tender age of 8, Philip loses his Mother to cancer, and is literally dumbstruck. He becomes mute from the trauma. The Opera then circles around him, he is a constant presence on the stage, but cannot say/sing a word. He instead turns to his writing to express his thoughts and feelings. His Mother also remains as a presence, though she has passed on. She visits him in his dreams, but he cannot see her, she wisps around his head, singing her message.
The Opera Chorus serve as an omniscient narrator, much like a Greek Chorus. They will sing both relaying the action, and a smaller chorus will sing Philip’s writings.
Throughout his adolescence, Philip remains solitary, until he meets Eleanor, a beautiful girl, who he instantly falls in love with.
Through adulthood, Philip and Eleanor have a traumatic relationship; Eleanor cannot cope. Philip’s silence becomes too much for her, she needs him to tell her he loves her, but Philip is not used to sharing his emotions.
Eleanor begins to have a secret affair with a passionate artist, Mauvére, who she sits for. He paints her, and sings in his beautiful, masculine baritone voice, complimenting her beauty, begging her to marry him.
Eleanor is tragically diagnosed with cancer, and Mauvére flees, chasing after a new beauty.
Philip’s Mother visits him in his dream, sweeping about his ears, rustling through the leaves. She implores him to tell Eleanor how he feels, to write their love on the page, and transform reality to art.
Eleanor lies sick in her bed, while Philip sits at the other end of the room, glued to his typewriter. The small chorus recite Philip’s writing, while Eleanor calls weakly for him, but the sound of the chorus, singing louder and louder, drowns out her weak cries.
Eleanor sings an Aria as she dies, Philip continues writing, committed to his work.
The chorus gets louder singing “Mon Amour! Mon Amour! Mon Amour!”
Philip triumphantly rips a page from his typewriter. His work is complete.
He turns to see Eleanor passed on, taken.
He falls to the ground, clutching a knife, and finally finds a voice. He sings out;
“Never seek to tell thy love
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears –
Ah, she doth depart.
Soon as she was gone from me
A traveller came by
Silently, invisibly –
He took her with a sigh.”*
He thrusts the knife into his chest, and falls to the ground, his hand falling just short of reach of Eleanor. He tries to stretch towards her, but he dies, with his love too far out of reach.
The End.
Oh, "Imogen - Phwoar!!".
Sophie x
*But in French!
