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1 May
On Thursday last week, I went to the British Film Institute (@BFI) with the intention of watching a matinee and redeeming a complimentary ticket (issued because of the out-of-synch screening of Underground) : because of some conference, there was no matinee, and I couldn’t find the ticket, but none of that turned out to matter :
I bought a ticket instead to see Streetwise Opera’s (@streetwiseopera’s) production, with sections on film, at some venue, not necessarily NFT3, where we were all delegates together in some (seemingly) fictional conference, although many a one attempted, in character, to do such things as selling me a tie (I pointed out that I had one in my pocket, and that a T-shirt has no collar anyway) or asking me how I felt about the event.
To camera, when invited to say something inspirational, I came up with ‘Brick is beautiful’. It turns out that it would – if anyone had much been paying attention – have been seen on the screen of NFT3. Generating nonsense to order, as this blog as a whole is likely to evidence, doesn’t entail much…
In a way, I wish that I had bantered more with the Streetwise crew, rather than taking my seat, but, once in my seat, it seemed churlish to make the row rise again (to let me out) and, yet again, for my re-entry – the other end of my row was blocked off by the mixing-desk. (It seemed that no one else decided to join in with the ‘official’ delegates at the front, with their suits, briefcases, ability to sing.)
As a homage to Marcel (although spelt differently), I had chosen a name-badge with the identity of Pierre Duchamps, an Alternative Energy Intern. I hoped that something would hang on this, rather than it from the lanyard, so it was a disappointment that it might as well have said George Osborne, Financial Meddler. (No big deal, but there could have been a draw from those badges known to have been issued, and a game of forfeits...)
Ignoring the name, when one of the cast introduced himself by way of an extended arm from two rows forward, I claimed to be Peter Henderson-Smyth-Henderson-Smyth-Henderson, and he concluded that I sounded ‘quite posh’.
I hoped also that, in the style of I Fagiolini’s The Full Monteverdi my neighbour would turn out to be ‘a mole’. When I heard / saw that show (in Cambridge), one knew that, over a modest meal, one had one or more singers at one’s table, but not who he, she or they were :
A woman challenged me as one, and – fool that I am – I didn’t play my denial for all that it was worth. (Although, of course, it was self evident that a denial couldn’t mean anything, so I wasn’t believed anyway, since, as everyone will testify, I do look like a professional singer.)
No matter, as it merely meant that I could, more or less, relax in my seat without the obvious need for further participation. However, I did fail to reckon on the company song, and, at the best of times (silliness doesn’t help), I cannot co-ordinate words and any actions, not least when those words (and their music) were unknown to me minutes before !
Early during the run-through of this act of corporate worship, I gave up, and, standing inert, took much more satisfaction in seeing the cast sing and mime the whole song en masse (which, in the style of The Twelve Days of Christmas, repeated each one of the Ten Rules of Good Business), much more than coaxing my resistant abilities further could have achieved. (I have no doubt that few have my problems, and most would have taken pleasure in what, for me, was an exercise doomed to fail.)
I can confidently (wonder whether I should) state that @streetwiseopera's #ATEOpera had a good take on company manners, @catherinebray...
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) April 27, 2013
That’s my hesitation out of the way, a strange (but usual) mix of wanting to be in a role-play, but on my terms. So, on to what this combination of filmed and live experience seemed to say. In doing so, I am influenced, after the event, by having read the programme**, which, I found, pulled together one’s appreciation of the overall narrative intent. (Such, of course, is the way – and world – of opera, whereas I am happy and used to making my own way in that of film).
Not to try to summarize what happened, save that the film interspersed with the live singing and action, the arias from Christopher Lowrey (counter-tenor) and Elizabeth Watts (soprano), interacting on screen with members of Streetwise from all over the country, were exquisite. Indeed, as I Tweeted :
I can confidently (wonder whether I should) state that @streetwiseopera's #ATEOpera had a good take on company manners, @catherinebray...
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) April 27, 2013
Can't stop humming (in public, and singing elsewhere) Lascia ch'io pianga after @lizwattssoprano and @streetwiseopera plus Sacconi Quartet !
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) April 28, 2013
The filmic aspect was in no way subservient to the role and action of these clips, but portrayed the alienation, isolation and heartfelt humanity at work in a response to the clinicality of company lore, which dictates shaking hands with the client not because one feels that one wants to, but as part of good business.
I have seen the Watts aria several times over (as my attempt to support Streetwise and download from the iTunes platform failed, after posing insurmountable problems), and it stands that repeated watching, because it is composed entirely in the idiom of cinema. I imagine the same to be true of the aria sung by Lowrey, of which my impression was that the wholly musical performance of the Vivaldi was respected in the service of the message that rapacity to invest threatens to overcome what matters, and what we should really value in this life.
I can confidently (wonder whether I should) state that @streetwiseopera's #ATEOpera had a good take on company manners, @catherinebray...
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) April 27, 2013
Informed by the programme, I apprehend the arch that these and the other filmed sections sought to erect, but I do confess that I was lost in following how the scene from Peter Grimes, which, I now gather, led into a Streetwise commission from Orlando Gough, brought about the degeneration of the dream of Locateco Solutions : throughout, this cinematic work, the execution was brilliant, and the closing scene of rejection, liberation, and immersion in the natural world was evocative and poignant.
It was merely that the step that took us to where the façade began to crumble was not clear. Arguably, though, for those who felt the movement for the Berlin wall to collapse, or for what is shown in the powerful documentary The Miracle of Leipzig (2009) (Wir Sind das Volk) not to happen, the feelings were stronger than an exact notion of why what was tipping had become unstable.
So the filmed episodes I do not seek to fault : David Pisaro (tenor) singing Grimes in the church setting was marvellous, as was how the scene – with Britten’s skilful writing – built to his expulsion, but – rightly or wrongly – I felt that I did understand, at the time, why everything was unravelling. The programme addressed that, and this is – if a concern at all – a minor one, since I had had the time to read ahead, but chose not to.
The Streetwise singers in NFT3, interacting with the projection, gave an overall feeling that conveyed how important the voice, music, the human spirit is. All in all, a stunning experience, and a tribute to all in any way involved with it !
Post-script
After this Tweet (and following the link) :
StreetwiseOpera @StreetwiseOpera 21m
Lovely review of #ATEOpera in @spectator http://www.spectator.co.uk/arts/opera/8900001/the-point-of-life/
I commented this:
Everything that this reviewer writes about @StreetwiseOpera's The Answer to Everything is spot on : it was timely, its parody of the corporate world (and its tics) was telling and amusing, and the music was of a very high quality, not least that passage from Grimes.
And if any Minister for Culture couldn't understand or relate to it, maybe that person's in the wrong job... !
I have now followed a link to a review in The Guardian, as Tweeted by @StreetwiseOpera... The reviewer found the event dramatically 'confusing', which mirrors what I attribute (above) to not having read the synopsis.
End-notes
* I tried to explain that I was there on the strength of knowing that Elizabeth Watts (@LizWattsSoprano) was involved, whose single with Streetwise I knew (from Splatter) had just been released.
My neighour thought that I said ‘Watson’, and, her not knowing EW, it didn’t seem to help that I said that she is a soprano. I ended up mumbling something about she was probably one of many, as I was, sadly, suddenly not sure, in the guise of being a delegate, how sopranos could fit in a corporate structure…
** It had two front covers (a style of presentation that I gather to be called tête-bêche).
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