One difficulty in writing about systemic problems is that, once such a problem has (in the writer’s view) been identified, then one quickly recognizes it, disguised though it often is, in every new manifestation. It is hardly ever not the case, and the writer must guard against reflexively projecting it into the rare situation where it may not be the determining factor. Two questions recently addressed to me get at the nub of this quandary. The first was not asked of me directly, but was relayed through a colleague. He told me of a conversation with an unnamed critic of his acquaintance (a well-positioned one, I gathered) who had been reading my book, and who asked, in effect, “So—there isn’t a single Regietheater production he [I, that is] likes?” To which the correct answer would be “That’s right,” except that both question and answer are beside the point. If a problem is systemic, it’s always there, and always fundamental. It is less a question of disliking than of opposing, on principle. One recent example among many would be the critical receptions given to François Girard’s two Wagner productions at the Met. (See Parsifal Lite, 3/9/18, and The Naïve, Hyperreality, and Filthy Lucre, Parts 1 and 2, 4/6/20 and 4/11/20, with a follow-up minipost on 4/24/20.) The Parsifal, it was almost unamimously reported, was brilliant and profound, while the Holländer, said most of the same scribes, was misconceived and feebly executed. And I don’t dispute that the Parsifal was more interesting, “better” on its own terms, than the Holländer. But it was open to the same basic objection, namely, that it was conceived and born out of auteuristic subjectivity, the assumption that the director is co-equal with the creator, and may “re-write” his work to fit a new socio-politico-cultural fashion, in contradiction of itself. I repeat: that is hardly ever not the case.

The second question was posed in person, in the course of my participation in the Dean’s Symposium series at Peabody Institute in April of last year (the link is on my media page). Among currently active singers, I was asked, are there any, in any vocal category, that I could identify as being on the same level, in major grand-opera roles, as the stars of earlier generations? And I could not. If asked again today, I could come up with the mezzo Anita Rachvelishvili as Azucena and the Princesse de Bouillon, and the bass Georg Zeppenfeld as King Marke. There are many adequate singers, and a few good ones in light- and midweight parts, but the greatest dramatic roles in the greatest masterworks of opera cannot be effectively cast. This, also, is hardly ever not the case. The singing problem is as “systemic” as the production problem.

To these fundamental issues we must now add the deepening economic crisis occasioned by the pandemic, above all here in the U. S. This is not artistically causative—no amount of money will buy production integrity or great singing. But it is grave enough to be considered existential for opera of any sort, let alone large-scale opera of presentable quality. So it will factor into my summer’s thinking about future directions for the blog, as well. As I said at the outset of this series, with a borrowed phrase, “criticism is the application of prior knowledge to a problem.” Whether or not my prior knowledge is of much use is a matter of opinion, but of problems we have plenty, and big ones.