Data Bases • Custom Term Papers • Free Term Papers • Free Research Papers • Free Essays • Free Book Reports • Plagiarism? Links • Top 100 Term Paper Sites • Top 25 Essay Sites • Top 50 Essay Sites • Search 97,000 Papers @ DirectEssays.com • Search 101,000 Papers @ ExampleEssays.com • Search 90,000 Papers @ MegaEssays.com Free Essays • Term Paper Sites • Chuck III's Free Essays • Free College Essays • TermPaperSites.com • My Term Papers • Get Free Essays • Essay World • Planet Papers	Search Lots of Essays Back to Subjects - Music hemingway opera hemingway opera The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Opera Composition I awoke one morning twenty-six months ago in a daze. Well, to be accurate it was afternoon, and I was hung over. It had been weeks since I had written anything, and I had spent the previous night as I did most nights: attempting to find inspiration at the bottom of a bottle. I had company that night though; a rather distinguished gentleman by the name of Samuel Rutledge. He is one of several regular characters I associate with since becoming part of the ‘intellectual elite;’ a category which I was thrusted into after the success of my first book, Thus Spake Daniel. A work, I’m sure, you’re familiar with. But I digress; on the night previously mentioned, Samuel and I were having an in-depth conversation about the importance of being well read in the soundbyte ridden, quick-fix, instant coffee society in which we found ourselves living. Well, as in-depth a conversation can be in the middle of the night with a bit too much gin in the blood. The next day as I stood in front of the mirror attempting to rinse away the last remnants of the night’s misdeeds, I remembered the succinct, yet profound words of my companion. “If [writers] like you and me don’t read the good old books, where we gonna get our ideas from, huh?” Mr. Rutledge then proceeded to pass out, face first, onto the table. Despite his lack of tolerance for drink, he was right. How was I to hold on to my new found celebrity, and continue to publish work worth its’ paper if I didn’t have a firm grounding in the classics? So, after a light breakfast of tonic water and stale fruit loops sans milk, I adjourned to the computer. Free time was not a problem, so all I had to do was select a work and start reading. Finding myself at a loss while perusing Amazon.com, I went to the search bar and typed in the key words “genius, author, and booze.” I added the latter because I felt that the author and I ought to share at least one interest before I invested the time it takes to read a novel. The list of names that appeared on the screen was a long one, as you can imagine, but at the top was Ernest Hemingway. Of course I had heard of Hemingway before, I’d even read The Old Man and the Sea in junior high, but I had never read the bulwark of his work. So I placed an order for the first few books listed under his name, and thanks to the magic of the internet and the postal service, I had the books two to four weeks later. After rehashing the tale of the old man’s fish and reading a pamphlet on the impending doom of the world that a raving derelict had given me earlier that day, I read a fantastic bit of fantasy titled, “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber.” Whether it was the superb writing of Hemingway or the eight vodka tonics that inspired me I’ll never know, but when I had finished reading that short story it was like my hands had a mind of their own. My fingers seemed to act of their own volition as I sat and typed, but this was not to be another novel but an opera! Yes, I decided I would write an opera, truly embrace the cerebral cadre to which I now found myself a part, and find my destiny as a genuine Renaissance man. A man equally at home in all the genres of the arts and humanities. The only thing standing betwixt myself and the greatest opera of the modern age was my complete lack of musical talent. I have not to this day mastered an instrument, nor have I ever attempted a serious study of music in general, but as I’m not one to turn my back on Inspiration when she calls, I went ahead with the project. The first, and may I add easiest part of composing an opera is to write the libretto, which is a kind of simplified version of the story that accommodates the time consuming singing that’s pervasive in most opera. It’s a known fact that people are willing to sit in one place for only a short amount of time, approximetly three hours. Thus, to accommodate the audience’s bladders and to pamper their posteriors, the characters need to be simplified. The story too feels the wrath of my revisionists’ pen, because it needs to be mangled and contorted to fit on the average stage. I know what you’re thinking, something to the effect of, ‘How can you, despite your obvious genius, think to rewrite a story written by the great Hemingway?” Well you’ve got a lot of nerve asking me that, but since I’m obviously on trial here I’ll offer my defense. Librettists have traditionally resorted to the tactics mentioned above when composing opera. Its true, from Giacosa’s libretto of “Madame Butterfly” to Strauss’ take on “Salome” by Oscar Wilde, writers have taken whatever steps they felt were necessary to bring the works from the page to the stage. Does this new, revised version of the story do justice to Hemingway’s brilliance? No, of course not. The point isn’t to encompass Hemingway’s story in music, but to create an entirely new work, based on Ernest’s original idea. The first task I undertook was to simplify the characters of “The Short and Happy Life of Francis Macomber.” In order for the opera to be understood by the myriad ‘Joe six-packs’ out there, the players must be boiled down to their base elements. This gives them more of an artificial feel, and depth that is usually reserved for cartoon villains. In Hemingway’s story Robert Wilson, the great white hunter, is both cold and caring, brutal and passionate. This sort of dynamic characterization cannot easily be transferred to the opera genre, and therefore Wilson becomes more two-dimensional in the libretto. To accomplish this I emphasized his cold detachment, while editing out the chitchat he has with Francis, as well as the compassionate interior dialogue that’s in the story. This leaves the character of Wilson a more hollow version of the one in the story; in the opera we find him to be a very proper British caricature with the cold heart of a professional killer. Next in our cavalcade of simplified characters is Margot Macomber. In the story she runs the gamut from a murderous trollop to a delicate, loving wife; but we’ve got no time for that. In the opera, Mrs. Macomber loses some of her subtlety, and the rebukes she directs at her husband are more venomous and concrete so the audience can see more clearly that she ‘holds the reigns’ as far as the marriage is concerned. Conversely, Mr. Macomber is simplified to the extent that his transformation toward the end of the story is more dramatic. To accomplish this, the actor playing Francis must take on effeminate qualities in the first few acts while kowtowing to his wife, then when he ‘comes of age’ he can drop the affectations and the spectators can clearly see that his character has transformed. This drastic alteration of character qualities has precedence, though. For instance, in Merimee’s “Carmen” Jose is a sympathetic character that, through a series of unfortunate incidences and his passionate love for Carmen, is lead into a life of robbery and murder. The libretto has no time for profundity though, and Jose is depicted as a brash and violent fool who is duped into joining the band of gypsy smugglers. The three characters mentioned are the only characters with significant parts in the story, and thus the only ones that need to be condensed. If you hear a kind of dry rustling sound, it might be Hemingway rolling over in his’ grave, because I’m now going to recount how I adapted the story from the vast landscape of the mind to the claustrophobia inducing dimensions of the stage. The story is told in an extremely clever way utilizing several literary devices including a lengthy flashback of the lion hunt. Flashbacks, while entertaining on your average sitcom, do not transfer well to the operatic genre. Therefore, my first modification of the story was to tell it in a completely linear manner. In the opera the curtain opens on the three main characters the morning of the lion hunt, and after some introductory singing that introduces the players and the situation the production proceeds to the jungle clearing where the lion is killed. In this scene, each main character has a solo explaining their feelings and progressing the story line while the gun-bearers, more numerous than in the story, make up a quartet. In the following scene, we find the cast back at camp and Mrs. Macomber fervently, yet melodically, berating her husband about his cowardice. When this is completed, the servants of the camp sing about the events of the hunt in a chorus. The next scene is also in the camp and it is made clear to the audience through the singing of Francis and Margot that she has been unfaithful. While this goes on, Wilson sings his interior dialogue about his feelings concerning the couple and the hunt. In the final scene, we find ourselves in the middle of a vast plain with thick vegetation toward one end of the stage. The couple, Wilson, and the gun-bearers enter and sing about the buffalo hunt, which I cut out due to stage constraints. The singer playing Francis has transformed since the audience saw him last, and the singer should lower the register of his voice and carry himself more proudly than before to make this change more apparent. Wilson and the gun-bearers then sing about this change in Francis and its possible ramifications to the relationship of the Macombers. When this is concluded, the hunters enter the brush to one side of the stage and encounter the downed bull. The bull charges, and a climactic clash of cymbals is heard when Margot fires the shot that kills her husband. This crash is followed by a rest of the orchestra to emphasize the moment. The opera is concluded with the singing of Margaret and Wilson concerning the incident and his insinuation that she murdered Francis due to his new found sense of courage. Finally, she breaks down and no longer sings but speaks the words ‘please, stop.’ This prompts Wilson to deliver his final line, only half singing, with the curtain falling on his line, “Now I’ll stop.” Obviously I’ve omitted a sizable portion of the story, and revised many of the aspects of Hemingway’s characterization. This was not an act of temporary insanity, however, as this too has precedence. In Giacosa’s version of “Madame Butterfly” he excludes several scenes. He also goes as far as to add characters, such as the Bonze, Butterfly’s uncle. He also drastically alters the dialogue including, in my humble opinion, the excellent choice of eliminating Cho-Cho-San’s ridiculous accent. Compared to these and other librettists’ alterations of classic works, my butchery of Hemingway’s tale doesn’t seem so blasphemous. As I explained earlier, I’m no musician. This, one would think, is a severe impediment to writing a serious opera. Well, one, in this case, would be absolutely right. So, undaunted, I turned to my associate Milton T. Festwinger and asked him to compose the music for my opera based on the vague instructions which I will now relate. First of all the voices of the players need to be considered. The actor that plays Francis Macomber should be capable of singing both as a tenor and a baritone. This way he can use the higher register until his ‘coming of age’ and this will add to the audiences’ perception of his change toward the end of the opera. Wilson should be played by a bass, because he is the most grounded, sympathetic character until Francis’ transformation; and thus the audience should be more sensitive to his dialogue, particularly his’ interior dialogue that is manifested in soliloquy. Margot should be played by a soprano with the ability to reach a very high register; this will enable her to convey her shrewish nature to the audience in more than just words. The chorus and gun-bearers should be an ensemble of voices, but primarily baritones. As the opera begins, the music should have a very strong sense of rhythm while avoiding the brass and string sections, firmly placing the audience in the appropriate setting, i.e. the African plains. As the characters are introduced, they each will be given a motive, in Wagner’s style. Wilson’s should be very strong with bass drums and even a borrowed phrase from “God Save the Queen.” Margot’s motive should be a melodic one, but played primarily on the strings in a high register. Francis’ should be in mid register using the entire orchestra with a sense of melancholy. In the next scene, that of the lion hunt, the music should start out slow and rhythmic, then progress into a kind of fugue where the three main characters begin singing the same line then branch off into their own dialogue. When the lion charges and Francis panics, the music should become frenzied and near bebop in style with a beat that’s difficult to discern, played in a high register on the woodwinds and strings. As the next scene opens, we return to the camp and find the Macombers bickering about Margot’s infidelity. The music should take on a jazzy feeling while maintaining a consistent, repeated melody with variations. Harkening back to Weil’s “Threepeney Opera,” this sequence should be a rest for the audience, as it were, with music that’s easy to comprehend along with modern qualities, such as a call and response singing style between Francis and Margot. In the final scene, the musical accompaniment should return to the regular rhythm found at the beginning of the opera, followed by quicker low range melodic music to describe the killing of the buffalo. Because Francis has undergone his transformation by this point, his motive should be played again, in a deeper register and without the hint of melancholy found in it up until this point. When the hunters begin to stalk the bull in the brush, the music should imitate the music leading up to the frenzy of the lion’s attack, then become more melodic and quick as the charge takes place to represent Francis’ altered state. Up until now all shots have been represented by crashes of the cymbals, but these are purposefully muted so that the final shot (Margot’s fatal shot) can be climactic and moving. Immediately following this crash, there should be a pause of the music for a few beats to emphasize the death of, the briefly happy, Mr. Macomber. Next, the music should become quick paced and jazzy again as Wilson berates Margaret concerning her husband’s death. Finally, the music should take on an intense melancholy tone utilizing the string section primarily, then fading away to nothing allowing the singers to deliver their final lines without accompaniment. The opera, “How Francis got his Groove Back,” was a smash hit, as I’m sure you’re aware. Just another notch in the belt of genius, I guess. Of course, I cannot take all the credit. I drew on innumerable artistic sources from Hemingway to Merimee to Weil, not to mention the help of my overworked and underpaid friend Mr. Festwinger. Nevertheless, one can only postulate where I go from here as an artist. I've considered several things; changing my name to a symbol of some sort, or perhaps shaving my head and founding a cult based on the worship of dairy products. Regardless, the world can only hope that my liver doesn’t give out before I’ve made my complete contribution to the arts. Bibliography: Word Count: 2661
Copyright © 2005 College Term Papers, INC All Rights Reserved.