I'm not a witch, I'm your wife
(Yes, cinephiles, that is indeed a "Princess Bride" reference)
While Sam and the Orchestra have been occupied with the Composer Institute this week, I've been preoccupied with Humperdinck...well, actually, this Humperdinck.
I'm always surprised how well-known Hansel and Gretel is - not because of the piece itself, which is beautiful - but because of the exposure many seem to have had as children (it is, after all, a "fairytale opera"). It's a funny matter of personal experience, I suppose - for many, H&G is their first contact with opera; for me, it was Samson et Dalila, but I guess that makes sense for a 7-year-old obsessed with Placido Domingo (I don't think Humperdinck is really his bag). In the interim decades, I've heard H&G quite a few times but never studied it (except for the omnipresent Prelude and Dream Pantomime, both of which I've done over a half-dozen times).
So, as I hadn't been around for any of the previous iterations of this production with the Orchestra, my first real involvement with the complete work came this past summer, when I initially delved into the score.
One of the most fascinating discoveries I've made in the score is how unsympathetic a character the Mother is (yes, yes, I've pondered musical stuff too - don't get me started about use of percussion in the Witch's Ride and how triplets in the tambourine intimate magical/evil). But, wow, this woman is painted as such an unsympathetic character; her first entrance is marked with hysterics; she knocks over the jug of milk herself and takes it out on Hansel and Gretel; then in a typically manic-depressive switch she has suicidal thoughts while falling asleep at the kitchen table after she chases the kids out of the house; she has no idea how dangerous the woods are or that there's a hungry ogress or that witches ride broomsticks (why does Father know all these things??); and in the happy reunion at the end she merely has a single line ("Children, dear") while Father has quite a few lines - and the kids, quite tellingly, call him first ("Father, Mother!" - although maybe I'm simply reading too much into that?).
Our "Mother", Lola Watson, and I shared a few laughs at our first rehearsal about how mentally unbalanced the character seems, and the possibility (as some have interpreted) that the Mother is the Witch. While that seems a little far-fetched in context of the opera, I wonder what a feminist fairytale scholar's take on that notion would be? A tantalizing alternative to ponder as I peruse the score this morning for the umpteenth time.
In any case, I'm delighted to be taking a break from operaland to attend the Future Classics concert tonight - the next 6 days holds nearly 23 hours of staging/orchestra/sitzprobe/full-run rehearsals for H&G!
While Sam and the Orchestra have been occupied with the Composer Institute this week, I've been preoccupied with Humperdinck...well, actually, this Humperdinck.
I'm always surprised how well-known Hansel and Gretel is - not because of the piece itself, which is beautiful - but because of the exposure many seem to have had as children (it is, after all, a "fairytale opera"). It's a funny matter of personal experience, I suppose - for many, H&G is their first contact with opera; for me, it was Samson et Dalila, but I guess that makes sense for a 7-year-old obsessed with Placido Domingo (I don't think Humperdinck is really his bag). In the interim decades, I've heard H&G quite a few times but never studied it (except for the omnipresent Prelude and Dream Pantomime, both of which I've done over a half-dozen times).
So, as I hadn't been around for any of the previous iterations of this production with the Orchestra, my first real involvement with the complete work came this past summer, when I initially delved into the score.
One of the most fascinating discoveries I've made in the score is how unsympathetic a character the Mother is (yes, yes, I've pondered musical stuff too - don't get me started about use of percussion in the Witch's Ride and how triplets in the tambourine intimate magical/evil). But, wow, this woman is painted as such an unsympathetic character; her first entrance is marked with hysterics; she knocks over the jug of milk herself and takes it out on Hansel and Gretel; then in a typically manic-depressive switch she has suicidal thoughts while falling asleep at the kitchen table after she chases the kids out of the house; she has no idea how dangerous the woods are or that there's a hungry ogress or that witches ride broomsticks (why does Father know all these things??); and in the happy reunion at the end she merely has a single line ("Children, dear") while Father has quite a few lines - and the kids, quite tellingly, call him first ("Father, Mother!" - although maybe I'm simply reading too much into that?).
Our "Mother", Lola Watson, and I shared a few laughs at our first rehearsal about how mentally unbalanced the character seems, and the possibility (as some have interpreted) that the Mother is the Witch. While that seems a little far-fetched in context of the opera, I wonder what a feminist fairytale scholar's take on that notion would be? A tantalizing alternative to ponder as I peruse the score this morning for the umpteenth time.
In any case, I'm delighted to be taking a break from operaland to attend the Future Classics concert tonight - the next 6 days holds nearly 23 hours of staging/orchestra/sitzprobe/full-run rehearsals for H&G!
Labels: opera, score study, women in music
posted by Sarah at
10:21 AM
3 Comments:
The mother reminds me a little bit of Angela in Angela's Ashes. She's got a whole family to take care of and work to do and a spouse who doesn't seem to do much to help, other than drink beer. She's just a little desperate, is all. It seems like she does get the short end of the stick, and drunk papa gets off easy when it's probably equally his fault things are they way they are. And in the folk-tale, I always thought it was the step-mom they lived with, so I wondered why Humperdinck changed it.
Two more takes:
"Another theory is that Hansel and Gretel is one of the first cases of what would nowadays be called industrial espionage. During medieval times when the story happened, the patent system was not in place yet and all trade secrets were handed down as family lore. Allegedly, the recipe for gingerbread was one such trade/family secret and the villagers sent out two children, i.e. Hansel and Gretel, to spy on the woman who owned the recipe. The children were caught by the woman and incarcerated but well fed. The villagers, however, came to their rescue and in the process killed and burned the baker. The tale was spun as a cover-up for the crime."
And:
"The tale from the Brothers Grimm was meant to be a pleasant fable for middle-class consumers of the 19th century; the original however was probably an admonishment of the hardships of medieval life. Abandoning children in the woods to die or fend for themselves because of famine, war, plague or other reasons, was not unknown, in particular during the crisis of the Late Middle Ages."
"Grimm" stuff, indeed!
I went on Friday evening to Hansel and Gretel and loved it. Well done. I have a question about the evening prayer they sing in the woods (and actually the opening of the entire opera). Is this not a variation of the well known hymn tune "Melita", popularly known as "Eternal Father God to Save"?
As I listened on Friday, I couldn't help but find myself humming this tune during the intermission. The people I sat with thought I was crazy, but I'm pretty sure it sounds like the hymn during evening prayer.
Am I crazy?
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