The Costume makes the Clown

As I intimated in my previous post, I'm a huge fan of the freedom that comes with putting together a recital. You can do anything! But the danger is - you. can. do. anything. And no one will stop you to say "I know you like it but will an audience like it? Or even get it? Does it make sense musically and dramatically? Does the spectacle diminish the quality of your performance?" No, not until it's too late and you've already rented the boa constrictor and taken your bows.

I came across an example of this recently while researching Soviet music to pitch for a festival. I was searching Google video for samples of Prokofiev's Op. 27 "Five Poems by Anna Akhmatova". [To give little background, Anna Akhmatova was an incredible Russian poet who endured persecution to the point of homelessness and starvation under Stalin. But even before that, her poems were compact and intense. She inspired women all over turn of the century Russia to take up writing. Condemned in 1922 and outright banned in 1945, she was suspected to be dead for many years before resurfacing after Stalin's death. Even during the most severe persecution by the Stalin regime her poems circulated amongst the people. She was eventually publicly restored and recognized as a great figure of Russian culture. My personal favorite poem of hers is Requiem.]

History lesson aside, Prokofiev's settings of Akhmatova aren't exactly comic fare. So when my search pulled up a clip of a soprano dressed a clown with a red feather boa, I immediately closed the window and checked my computer for viruses. Convinced of its safety, or at least non-virulence, I once again pulled up the video. Yeeeah, she's really in a Pierrot costume and red feather boa with a face full of white greasepaint and black lipstick. Behind the piano, I could see a panel draped in blue and green with a small paper moon that looks like it wasn't so much hung as it happened to fall and snag on the set. At the top of the frame, is part of a screen where images are being projected. Some look like abstract paintings and I thought I spotted a portrait of Akhmatova. The clown writhes and luxuriates in her red boa until a dramatic beat change shifts her focus outward. She has reached the end of its feathery fascination. She then slowly drops it from above her head and the camera follows as it tumbles to the ground. Is it a spent lover? A romantic token? The onset of a down allergy? I'm not really sure - you can watch the clip here and let me know what you think. (Make sure to read the description she provides to the right of the video. It is an amusing lesson in the risks of self promotion and the values of basic proofreading. She declares Pierrot as a model for all opera role[s]. Really? Cuz I can think of more than a few exceptions, lady. Aaand this isn't opera, it's Russian art song. But wait, you're not an "old art singer" anyway. You're an "eternal Poet and Clown of Love that is in Love...!" Uh huh. Read it over, my singing friends and remember. Remember it well.)

Now her singing - yeah, we're *just* getting to the singing and I don't have a whole lot to say- it is lovely. The tone is clear and flexible. She obviously has a solid instrument, command of the language and style and of course, dramatic flare. The problem is I didn't even notice the singing until easily my third time thru the clip. And by the third time thru, after trying to figure out what exactly is going on, I don't care. After reading her description which makes it clear she is a performer who is not giving any thought to her audience, I doubly don't care.

But on the other hand - In spite of my critique - the choice dramatize art song is not always doomed to failure. I've personally seen plenty of performances that work well, such as my friend, mezzo-soprano, Amanda Keil and the group Musica Nuova. They include props, plot and, most importantly, cohesion. But a dramatization cannot be halfway and requires a great deal more planning than a traditional recital! (Just look at the NYT Tommasini article recently that defends updating operas but demands commitment and follow-thru.) Hear this plea - do not be arbitrary. For me, that was the most unforgivable aspect of this soprano's clip. The singing was great. The costume was high quality even! But the conceit makes no sense. Classically, it doesn't jibe with the character or nature of Pierrot. (Think Ducky in "Pretty in Pink." Lovable guy who never gets the girl.) Textually, it's unsupported. The songs in that set are certainly not characterized by a trusting, naive love but instead deal with themes of shallow affections, tragically lost love and bereavement. The singer's explanation beside the video makes it even more clear that the choice related more to exercising her personal philosophy via playing dress-up.

The moral of the story, folks, is if you want to up the ante dramatically, don't skimp on the thinking. Avoid the arbitrary or risk leaving your audience behind. If you identify conflicts, relationships and themes that can't be brought out in a traditional recital format then a dramatized staging can bring tried and true material new meaning in an audience's eyes. But have a sounding board (coach, teacher or friend) who can confirm that in pursuing your groundbreaking interpretation you're still connecting and communicating with the audience. Otherwise, just let your beautiful singing and interpretation stand on its own. At least for now.