My last two visits to the Met of the 2021-2022 season—the new Lucia, the old Turandot, a week apart—left me feeling not merely disappointed or angry (though both of those), but despondent. Between them, they describe with painful exactitude the principal sources of our operatic agony: in production, a choice between a postoperatic Demolition Derby that gorges on the energy of cultural displacement, or a plainly exhausted, mechanical gesturing after “tradition”; in performance, a shocking diminution of vocal presence and quality and of the creative spark in interpretation, with an orchestral contribution to match; and with the two in tandem, the submergence of performance in production, of the aural in the visual. New direction at the Met could make some headway against these powerful crosswinds (especially with respect to production), but I think it would be in modest increments. Where, after all, would one go in search of directors and designers of creative imagination, strong operatic background, and technical mastery who are not the products of postmodern education and the autereuristic mentality? Where would one venture to discover some lost tribe of singers of power, grace, and expressive urgency? Or conductors of fiery and/or profound inspiration, and the means of evoking same in their players? And then, how might the Met, a mammoth institution embedded in a beleaguered social, economic, and political environment that is somehow sclerotic and disruptive at once, heave itself about toward a yet-to-be-discovered way of working toward a goal it has not defined? For the first time, I have found myself in serious conversations with devotees and professionals who are not among the merely disgruntled or rebellious, yet believe the Met should close up shop, should clear the deck for new efforts. And fervent believer as I am in the necessity for a large-scale institution of social continuity dedicated to the vivification of the great body of rich, deep, and uplifting works of our operatic repertory (to say nothing of my long personal attachment to this one), I have found myself in difficulty trying to disagree with them.
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To fulfill the mission of any performing arts institution, particularly one devoted to the classics, two applications of mental rigor are required—to principles, and to standards. These are meant to sustain, insofar as possible, an ideal, an artistic vision that meets the classic works on their own level of spiritual, emotional, and intellectual engagement. My own principles and standards are present by implication in all my writing, and I have addressed them more directly in Opera as Opera. But I think a précis is in order here, as reference for what will follow.
Principles: A principle is a basis for practice. If followed, it makes the practice coherent, and guides it toward its chosen ideal. For the performing arts in general, I have just one, and that is this: the chain of engagement that runs from creator to interpreter to receptor (i. e., audience member, sometimes in the form of a critic) constitutes a hierarchy, with the creator at the top. Why? Because he or she has first gone forth into the potentially infinite field of phenomena, and by selection from it has fashioned a new work of imagination, limited and unique. However much its materials—its structure and duration, and even content—may partake of other works, this work stands alone in its place, and the creator has determined that place. All interpreters, therefore, must stand with the creator in that space and work within its boundaries, where there is ample room for interpretive creativity. They must seek the truth of the work, on its own terms, and follow its internal rules. This means entering into its world, and its system of values and beliefs, in an entirely subjective way, without judgment, opinion, or outside “perspective.” This deference to the creator is due to artists of past and present equally. But there is at least a gentle bias toward those of the past, toward works and ideas that have demonstrated usefulness to many generations of receptors.