A Night at the Opera

I went to the symphony last night. The main performance was Orff’s Carmina Burana complete with a choir of nearly two hundred members. You might think this was a hokey cow-town performance: it was not.

I’m not familiar with Orff’s works. I suspect his overtly Germanic nature made him less than admired in my family, there seeming to be a correlation, the more popular a composer was with the Nazis the less liked around the kitchen table in Grandpa’s house. Wagner was never even suggested. The favored contemporary composer/musician was Fritz Kreisler, born an amalgam of Jewish and Catholic and the best violinist, perhaps ever. Mendelssohn (also a Jewish Catholic amalgam but by choice) was also well loved. But, Mahler was my favorite. I did enjoy the intellectual nature of Stravinsky, but my heart went to Mahler.

I’ve not really had the opportunity (or overwhelming desire) to see much live music in the past 25 years or so. I haven’t lived in a city or suburb ‘till recently. And orchestral music, though the force of my childhood, had faded into dreams, like my tricycle and my wagon, it seemed too small to carry my emotions through adulthood. I’ve now grown past that phase and it seems symphonic music is about to re-enter my life.

I greatly enjoyed the piece, it was nearly surreal…in fact, it was surreal. I think what Orff referred to as magical images were in actuality simply the distortions of realization. What 80 years of history have made clearer about the myth of Roman Germania is the same evil myth echoed in today’s American patriotism in its benevolence and murderous conquest.

What, of course, came about was the empathy for the exploited, the vision of the pay-offs and the guilt of enjoying this evening. Music especially that with human voice is inherently political, from conception to performance. Orchestral music is the most obvious and incongruous. Composers with voices in their heads having to kiss royal, political or religious ass, became literally reliant on whim for bread to eat. And musicians? Well, “you better not quit your day job” isn’t a modern expression. Musical expression, even today, is not permitted to go beyond what is politically acceptable or useful, or, obscurity and poverty await.

One might wonder how a very small city, 2500 miles from anywhere, can have world class music, even if it is fascist? Not too much thought brings images of tin barons in Bolivia or the opera house in the depths of the Mojave. The first words from the podium, “We thank Conoco/Phillips…” reminds us that Alaska is a colony, a resource colony, wholly owned and operated by the oil companies. We, like our brothers and sisters in the capitals of other colonies, enjoy the benefits of our owner’s excesses and desires…like symphony music and opera, fresh fruits and angus beef…provided we are the few lucky ones who can afford to emulate our keepers.