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"We have
To look elsewhere... for instance, into my heart
Where recently I heard begin
A bell of longing which calls no one to church.
...
I am interested
In my feelings, I seem to wish to have some importance
In the play of time. If not,
then sad was my mother's pain, sad my breath,
Sad the articulation of my bones...
...
What is deep as love is deep, I'll have
Deeply. What is good as love is good
I'll have well. Then if time and space
Have any purpose, I shall belong to it."

Jennet Jourdemayne, from The Lady's Not For Burning by Christopher Fry


 

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The Art of Making Opera
by ML HART

 

Your invitation backstage to learn how opera - and art - is made.

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The Art of Making Opera

 

THE ART OF MAKING OPERA
What's Inside

 

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title bar - Articles About the Artist
 

 

 

Amazon.com talks to ML Hart

Neil Morgan: San Diego Union-Tribune

John Willett: Metropolitan Magazine

 


 
1998
Amazon.com:   Where are you from? How - if at all - has your sense of place colored your writing?


M.H.: I'm "from" a lot of places - I was born in Oregon and spent my childhood in Washington DC; I've lived in Arizona, Idaho, Florida, Massachusetts and San Diego. I'm an urban-driven person - love the energy and rhythm you pick up from the city, any city. There's this intense curiosity I have about other places and people, an appreciation for all the variations and differences you see - maybe you're forced to do that when you move around a lot and have to fend for yourself. But it gives me the ability to put myself in another's place, to see with someone else's eyes.

Certainly living in San Diego has been an example of "chance meets opportunity equals luck" because it led directly to being able to work on THE ART OF MAKING OPERA. It started as a photography project, but when it came time to write captions, I was dissatisfied with just a straightforward description of the images. As I expanded the captions, I found that I was using words more and more in partnership with the images, telling the story - my story. How the pieces all fit together to make a bigger picture. Then the book really started to come alive for me.

It's interesting to me that you ask about "coloring" my work - as a photographer working in black and white, I quite consciously use that limitation to reveal more "color" in the images than is seen with colors themselves. But black and white is how I see - I dream in black and white, too - always have. I thought it was normal, that everyone did it, but I just found out a few years ago that most people actually dream in color. What a great word.

Amazon.com:  When and why did you begin writing? When did you first consider yourself a writer?

M.H.: I knew I wanted to write pretty early on. I knew - but I didn't do it. In school I was always kind of sheltered - coloring inside the lines, if you will. ("Color" - there it is again!) When I went away to college, I was like Miranda in a brave new world, and I started thinking and opening my eyes. Actually, I wasn't ready for the structure of college - I was too busy learning about life. So I'm 17 years old and for the first time ever, reading things other than literature - philosophy and all the feminist writings: Germaine Greer, Betty Friedan, Mary Wollstonecraft, a wonderful book called "The First Sex" by Elizabeth Davis. It was a time of big changes - Ms Magazine was emerging and Billie Jean King beat Bobby Riggs at tennis. Well, I felt excited and outraged and alive, and I knew that I needed to be a part of all this connecting that was going on, this reaching out to people. A door had opened for me, and I knew, way deep down, that writing was the way. It was my way. It was like a brilliant light going on. And I guess you could say that it blinded me. I was afraid of the power I found behind that door I'd opened. Terrified. Absolutely terrified. And I closed it.

It took a long, long time for it to be okay, for me to learn how to live with the kind of power - and the responsibility - that goes along with it. Because writing is a powerful force. You can't really control it, you go along with it. Like a river or a tide. When I was in my late teens, early twenties, I thought I had to do everything perfectly, brilliantly - you know, paint the Sistine Chapel Ceiling the first time I picked up a brush.

Amazon.com:  Who or what has influenced your writing, and in what way? What books have most influenced your life?

M.H.:
Oh wow, probably everything I've ever read! From way back, I remember absolutely inhaling storybooks as a child - poetry, classics, novels - I escaped into them, didn't matter what the subject was. I remember my 5th grade teacher, Miss Kurtz, would read to our class for half an hour every day - we were too old to have naps, I suppose, so she'd read to us after lunch. I love to create worlds and people in my mind as I read, imagine I'm living their adventure, and cry and feel for them. I read lots of different stuff, from history to science fiction to Dickens and all the 19th century Americans, essays, plays and poems. Dictionaries - I read dictionaries! I love words!

What books. Well, the women's writings, as I said. A Tale of Two Cities. Rebecca. Homer. Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Milan Kundera.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Robertson Davies. Stephen Jay Gould. A Wrinkle in Time. The Duchess of Malfi is one of my favorite plays - read it and understand the John Webster joke in "Shakespeare in Love!" Shakespeare, of course. Dorothy L. Sayers. Paradise Lost - this work is filled with light and darkness - so brilliant, it's almost impossible to take it all in. Henry James. Under Milkwood by Dylan Thomas made a huge impression on me in high school, and I often go back to it; the words are so tangible and sensual. How many more do I get??

I love passion and conviction in writing - essays by Harlan Ellison, James Burke, Robert Hughes. Passion in any kind of art, too - singers who tell a story have always appealed to me: the Weavers, Harry Chapin, Gordon Bok. Opera - of course! And painters, like Caravaggio or Goya. It's the same kind of communicating, just in different media.

You know something I just realized - this is intriguing - nearly everything I've said here is fiction. Well. There's the impact of "telling the story" for me. A great story, intriguing characters, writers who command and control words and reinvent ways to reach out to you.

Amazon.com:  What is the most romantic book you've ever read? The scariest? The funniest?

M.H.:
The most romantic? Okay, you asked! A multiple tie for first, here - "The Scarlet Pimpernel" by Baroness Orczy - probably because of the danger, the high stakes, and because Marguerite is such a strong character. No, no - it's because she and Percy are equally strong and so passionate. Then there's a play called "The Lady's Not For Burning" by Christopher Fry - it's written in blank verse, a 20th century work - and another intense pair of smart, strong, equal characters; for years, I identified very closely with Jennet. Oh... "The Crystal Cave" by Mary Stewart. "Cyrano de Bergerac" by Rostand. The sonnets of Pablo Neruda, too, from way back. If you saw the film "Truly Madly Deeply," it's one of Neruda's poems that Alan Rickman quotes in really bad Spanish to Juliet Stephenson's character. The part in the film is taken out of context, but that one part by itself is devastatingly romantic, in a big-picture definition of "romantic." And I have to mention Dorothy Dunnett's Lymond Chronicles, six fat books, because of the impact - massive and seductive, huge epic story - it'll blow you away.

Scariest is "The Shining" by Stephen King - far better than the films; also Edgar Allen Poe, the master.

Funniest - "The Transitive Vampire" by Karen Elizabeth Gordon. Did I say I love words!?

Amazon.com:  What music, if any, most inspires you to write? What do you like to listen to while writing?

M.H.:
If I put music on while I'm concentrating, it's non-vocal; otherwise I get distracted too much. And then it's usually Mahler or Willie and Lobo. Sometimes I just need to it to be quiet, to listen to the rhythm of the words in my head.

And that's really important to me. Rhythm. Cadence. Sound. The way words sound when you say them. The way they sound and feel inside you when you read them, doesn't have to be out loud. Music is such an emotional connection here, and music is everywhere. Wind. Waves. Traffic. The voice - my favorite instrument, the first instrument - is even stronger, like a direct line to my heart. I'm always wanting to create that same kind of response, that pulse, that heartbeat in my writing.

Amazon.com:  What are you reading now? What CD is currently in your stereo?

M.H.:
I never read just one book at a time. So, two biographies - one of Arthur Conan Doyle by Stashower, and one of Paul Robeson, the one by Duberman. Also, "Who Killed Classical Music?" by Norman Lebrecht.

In my stereo? Could be almost anything... But at this moment it's "Mario Lanza - Live at the Hollywood Bowl."

Amazon.com:  What are you working on?

M.H.:
I'm writing a book about tenors - about the impact of the voice on the audience, really. It's not a how-to-sing book, and it's not gossip about personal lives. It's a celebration of the art form, what's special about the tenor voice, how it moves an audience - mixed in with an understanding of all the hard work it takes to get there, to just do it. If you think about how rare a really good tenor is, never mind a great one, that's a pretty unique phenomenon. And these men are extraordinary - hard-working artists, whether they're household names with a dozen recordings or whether they're known only to their families or within the business. More than half of the research and interviews are completed. I'll be doing a lot of the writing in the next few months - and I'm itching to get to it, to see where it takes me.

So this will be photographs and in-depth interviews with seven of today's tenors in the opera world - somewhat more text than images in this book, where THE ART OF MAKING OPERA was more images. I'm also interviewing more than 100 different people in the opera business, from lots of other tenors to singers of all voice types who are their colleagues, to their teachers, directors, conductors, composers... You name a legend in the business and I've probably already talked to them or soon will be. Those comments are all providing threads of color in this very rich, sexy, complex tapestry that's emerging. And you wouldn't believe how this project has a life and a drive of its own! Very pushy, very demanding of my time and energy, and it all wants to be happening right now - which is not so inappropriate, given my subject!

As both a photographer and a writer, I'm always discovering. Always. Every day. With the cameras, I'm a portraitist - I find it boring to shoot sunsets or buildings or flowers. I shoot people because I need to interact with them, discover something about the part of them that's underneath the surface. When I was working on THE ART OF MAKING OPERA, casually chatting with people, I found I was using words the same way that I use the camera - trying to find out what makes them tick. I'm doing more formal interviews now for the new book, and the more I do, the more turned on I get, the more ideas I have - this is what it's all about, for me!

Writing is such an incredible journey - it can take you anywhere, everywhere, if you'll let it. I think the same can be said about life, if we will only give ourselves permission to live as fully as possible. Take the risk of being intensely personal in your work! Break the rules! Get rid of all this carefully planned and plotted stuff! Who knows then what we're capable of experiencing and discovering and creating, for ourselves and for our audience? I did it when I walked away from a paycheck-and-benefits job, from that whole lifestyle. People told me they admired my "courage." It felt more like "desperation" to me, but you know what? I did it.

I've never worked harder in my life than I am now. I've never been happier and I have no regrets. I wake up in the morning and I just can't wait to find out what will happen in my day. And I learn so much when I'm writing. Arthur Miller said it best: "He who understands everything about his subject cannot write it. I write as much to discover as to explain." Isn't that great? I have that next to my computer - love it!