CHAPTER XVI.

HOW TO LISTEN TO AND ENJOY OPERA.

Feelings of disappointment—Expectations—The language difficulty—Why the story is hard to follow—What we go to the opera to hear—Some suggestions—To grasp the story—To realize the style of the music —Re-hearing necessary—How to begin to study opera —What is necessary for its enjoyment.

In penning such a chapter as this, I have no desire to lay down the law to those older and wiser than myself, nor do I wish to be didactic, or to instruct where no instruction is needed. The musician and the opera-_habitué_ will not need telling how to listen to opera, nor how to enjoy it; nor should I be thanked for attempting the task.

[Sidenote: =Feelings of Disappointment=]

At the same time it must be borne in mind that to the very large majority of young persons their first introduction to opera raises a feeling of disappointment. People vary much, and there are those to whom the charm of music is so great that the most unfamiliar harmonies will convey delight to their ears and satisfaction to their mind. But this is exceptional rather than the rule, and it is to be feared that the neophyte, visiting the opera in a state of glorious ignorance, generally comes away with an inglorious feeling of unrealized ideals and unattained expectations.

[Sidenote: =Expectations=]

To the average school-girl, for example, opera suggests various fascinating details read about in books and papers; such as beautiful singing, the presence of fashionable and brilliant persons, possibly of royalty; tiaras of diamonds and gorgeous costumes, and a thousand and one other trifles which may or may not come up to expectation. Even if they do, the excitement of such extraneous attributes as these soon palls, and the girl is left to reflect on the opera itself, which is perhaps the most fruitful source of disappointment.

For I would here assume what I take to be generally the case, namely, that the boy or girl paying a first visit to the opera has no real idea as to what is in store for them; and the excitement of the first entry into the large and brilliant house, with its crowd of well-dressed people experienced, a series of miniature shocks awaits the novice, whom, for sake of example, we may take to be an averagely intelligent and musical girl of sixteen.

[Sidenote: =The Language Difficulty=]

It does not take her long to discover that she can understand the meaning of hardly any word sung on the stage; a word or two here and there may be caught and mentally translated, but hardly sufficient, unless the girl be specially conversant with French, Italian, or German to piece things connectedly together, or to gather enough to follow the sentiments expressed: a little natural irritation at not knowing what it is all about ensues.

[Sidenote: =Why the Story is Hard to Follow=]

The words not being caught, as they would in an ordinary play in the vernacular, it is difficult to follow the story which is being unfolded; an ordinary stage piece may be intelligently followed by a deaf person by means of the eye, but in opera, situations must develop more slowly owing to the musical setting, and there is generally, so far as stage work is concerned, a minimum of action; it is therefore quite possible for our young lady to leave the theatre with the very barest notion as to the plot of the opera she has witnessed. Should the work witnessed be of a very popular character, such as _Faust_, various numbers in the music will appeal to her ear as being pleasantly familiar; even in such a case as this, however, there will be much that falls strangely, while with the majority of works the music would be so new that only a confused general idea would be carried away. Not following either the language or the story, the music would be but another factor of confusion to our inexperienced girl, and especially would this be the case if the work presented were of a modern nature, or in a style to which she was quite unaccustomed in any phase of the art.

Such, to my knowledge, are some of the feelings experienced by young people taken to the opera for the first time; first impressions are strong, and a feeling of distaste thus inculcated may be hard to eradicate. Before considering how such wrong impressions might be prevented, or at least modified, we must again consider briefly what we go to the opera to hear.

[Sidenote: =What we go to the Opera to hear=]

It is not merely beautiful singing, for that can be heard more effectively from the same artists in the concert hall, when they are unhampered by the necessities of stage-action, costume, and make-up. Nevertheless, there are those who are content at the opera with this alone, hence the popularity of certain Italian operas, the success of which depends almost entirely upon pure vocalization and expressive singing with support of little in the way of stagecraft or dramatic truth. Nor is it excellent orchestral playing that is the main objective, for that, too, can be better heard in the symphony of the concert-room. Nor is fine acting the main consideration—for that we must visit some temple of the drama; nor is it the wonderful development of stage appliance, the marvellous scenic displays, or electric lighting devices that call for comment: these can be better seen in some house mainly devoted to spectacular presentation.

It is none of these in particular for which we go to the opera, but rather for the combination of them all, which forms the characteristic feature of that complex aggregation of various arts of which opera is constituted. And seeing how many-sided and complex an art-growth it is with which we have to deal, small wonder is it that real appreciation for its numerous points comes but slowly, and only subsequent to experience, perhaps to study.

[Sidenote: =Some Suggestions=]

Now experience and study are just the things of which our imaginary young friend is quite unable to boast, hence the confused and mystified mental condition in which she, in all probability, leaves the opera house. Although easy to diagnose, the remedy for this state of things is more difficult to seek, but perhaps the following suggestions may be made:—

[Sidenote: =To Grasp the Story=]

First of all, I would advise, make some attempt before going to the opera to master the details of the plot or story; there are many means of doing this: in all the operas published in Boosey’s Royal Edition the plot is plainly set out at the beginning, and any work not published there may almost certainly be found with its story simply set forth in a book entitled _The Opera_, by Streatfield.

This done, some idea of what is taking place upon the stage can be grasped, and even perhaps some sentences of the libretto followed. Without such help, plots with so much movement and incident as even _Lohengrin_ or _Siegfried_ may be hard to grasp; but do not make the mistake of taking a copy of the music or libretto into the house with you; the auditorium is generally too dark to admit of their use, and even if this be not impossible, frequent cuts make following a difficult matter.

[Sidenote: =To Realize the Style of the Music=]

Having realized the plot, try to get some idea of the _style_ of the music, that is, whether it is an opera of the older classical school (Mozart, Cherubini, Weber, etc.), in which case it will split up into airs, duets, finales, etc., with music somewhat in the manner of the familiar sonata; or if perhaps it be an Italian work (Rossini, Donizetti, Verdi), with the same sub-divisions, but of a more tuneful and simple nature; or if a work of the “Grand Opera” school (Spontini, Meyerbeer), with massive stage effects and pompous musical utterances; or again, perhaps a modern work in the Wagner manner, with continuous non-divided music, and without definite tunes (melos and not rhythmic air); in this latter case, one or two of the chief _leit-motiven_ might be memorized, but I would not advise this class of opera for a first experience; it is too advanced. In any case, do not go without some clear idea as to the manner and style of the music to be listened to; if any of the work can be played through and made at all familiar beforehand, so much the better.

[Sidenote: =Re-hearing Necessary=]

With some sort of nodding acquaintance with the plot and the music, enjoyment may be attained if the work be not too complex; but even then I would say that it is not very easy to appreciate an opera at a first hearing; so that if opportunity arises for a second visit to the opera house to be paid, choose the same work that you have already heard. A first visit does little more than create an impression; a second visit will renew old impressions and convey further ones; a third visit would enable one to be on the look-out for special parts which have made special appeal; a fourth visit would, as a rule, constitute thorough enjoyment, provided the work be well performed.

Of course there are some operas which can be easily appreciated at a first or second hearing, but these are the great minority, and I would suggest four visits before any judgment is passed; for an ordinary amateur to hear a new work and either praise or condemn extravagantly is nothing more or less than presumption; the more experienced and capable the critic, the more reserved is his judgment. Undoubtedly, for the more complex operas, four visits, unaccompanied by private study or by rehearing of the music, would be insufficient.

[Sidenote: =How to Begin to Study Opera=]

Begin with simple operas: such works as _Faust_ and _Carmen_, the tunes of which are already known to a large extent, at once suggest themselves; and perhaps in the same category, although in a very different class, may be placed _Lohengrin_ and _Cavalleria Rusticana_; after a course of easily grasped works, more exalted creations, such as _Don Giovanni_, _Fidelio_, and _Die Meistersinger_, may be approached; and finally we come to the serious works of Wagner’s _Ring_, such operas as _Tristan and Isolde_, the beauties of which are a sealed book to the inexperienced and the unmusical. As is the case with every phase of every art, real appreciation can only spring from real comprehension; that which is not understood cannot be fully beloved. There must be a beginning and a gradual growth; love for opera is hardly an inborn gift; rather is it a cumulative force, fed by an ever-increasing knowledge, and by ever-widening critical faculties. To love music, singing, or an orchestral performance does not also necessarily imply an ability to care in the very least for so polymorphous a work as opera, which must be a thing of separate study, the more difficult in that it demands attention from so many points of view.

[Sidenote: =What is Necessary for its Enjoyment=]

And when knowledge and experience are to some extent gained, become not too critical, for that mars enjoyment; those whose love is freshest for opera are not those unhappy critics who must perforce write a long analytical account of a new work ere the final curtain has fallen upon it, but rather those who have grown to cherish the musical phrases for their own sake and for their inherent beauty, irrespective of who may be singing them, provided the singing be good and correct. Love for opera, although not lightly gained, is also not lightly lost; it is a taste that endures and strengthens as time goes on and knowledge deepens.