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RENAISSANCE INSTITUTE: THURSDAY MORNINGS, FEBRUARY 5 TO APRIL 30, 2026 | ||
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SYLLABUS CLASSES: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]
The illustrations above are from a production of The Elixir of Love in London. Shy young farmer Nemorino
loves the sophisticated Adina from a distance; she is aware, but considers him altogether too meek. They each
sing arias and even a tantalizing duet. But charming as these numbers are, the opera does not kick into full
gear as compelling drama until a quack medicine man arrives and sells Nemorino a bottle of wine, claiming to be
a celebrated love potion. Now slightly drunk, Nemorino gains a spurious confidence, thus triggering the astonishing
sequence of aria, duet, trio, and full ensemble that rings down the curtain on Act One.
This course is based on the premise that the dramatic thrust of opera depends not on its individual numbers, no matter how famous these might be, but on the composer's ability to connect these into extended scenes where each element raises the stakes for those that are to follow. I have chosen a dozen such scenes of around half-an-hour in length, from operas in English, Italian, German, French, and Russian, all played in modern videos with English titles. Some come at the beginning of their operas, some in the middle, some at the end; they may not include the most famous numbers, but they all show opera at its dramatic peak. The purpose of the classes is to suggest an approach to opera that you should find helpful whether you are new to the field or a seasoned aficionado. They are not intended as condensed versions of the shows, but I do include synopses in the weekly handouts, and shall preface each scene in class with some shorter clips to put it in context. And I shall certainly leave time at the end for discussion.
The images below do not necessarily come from the productions to be shown in class. One by one, I will add RESOURCES for each session, at which point the current grey links will be activated and turn gold. Click on them in advance to get the class handouts and synopsis. After each class, these resources will be expanded to include the class script (not that I actually read from it), the video clips or close substitutes, all the still images, and often some additional materials. rb.
| February 5 | |
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| Sarah Connolly and Lucas Meachem as Dido and Aeneas in London | RESOURCES |
1. Henry Purcell: Dido and Aeneas (1689)
Dido and Aeneas is the earliest English opera still in the repertoire today. Its 38 separate numbers—choruses, arias, small ensembles, dances, and recitative—are mostly quite short; the total running time is only about an hour. But they offer a perfect opportunity to show the building blocks from which most operas are constructed, and the cumulative force of linking all these elements together in sequence. In this particular case, we shall look at two such sequences: the opening in which the roots of the tragedy are revealed, and the tragic conclusion centered around Dido's aria "When I am laid in earth."
| February 12 | |
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| Emily Birsan as Donna Anna with the Welsh National Opera | RESOURCES |
2. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Don Giovanni (1787)
Charles Gounod, the composer of Faust, wrote that the opening of Don Giovanni was "the most perfect piece of dramatic exposition in the musical theatre known to me." As well he might: in barely fifteen minutes the action passes from comedy, to an interrupted seduction, to a duel in which one of the characters is killed, then pauses briefly for a solemn moment of reflection, before plunging into a searing vengeance duet. But we won't stop there; we'll continue until Don Giovanni has an encounter with an old mistress and sets his sights on a new one. Buckle your seatbelts!
| February 19 | |
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| L'elisir d'amore at the Met | RESOURCES |
3. Gaetano Donizetti: L'elisir d'amore (1832)
See above for an outline of the story of this opera and the remarkable sequence that we shall hear, closing Act I and going through many different emotions along the way. The photo is of a grand production at the Met with traditional scenery and no expense spared. But Elisir does not need a traditional production, not great expense. What it does need are singers able to meet its vocal demands and throw themselves into their roles, and a conductor with an unerring sense of dramatic pace.
| February 26 | |
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| Carmen Giannattasio as Amelia in Genova | RESOURCES |
4. Giuseppe Verdi: Un ballo in maschera (1858)
The points I was making above about the escalating sequence that ends Act One of Elisir might equally be made of Act II of The Masked Ball, the 1858 opera that showed Verdi in full command of the powers he developed in his middle period, before he started to experiment once more. Act Two begins and ends with Amelia, the wife of Count Anckarström, the close advisor to Gustavus III, King of Sweden. Wanting to rid herself of her adulterous passion for the King, Amelia has come to lonely hill at night to pick a weed from below the gallows that she has been led to believe is an antidote—or perhaps a poison. But Gustavus has followed her there, and declares his love. They are interrupted by Amelia's husband, who warns the King that conspirators are plotting to kill him, and offers to escort his masked companion back to the city without asking who she is. The King escapes, but the conspirators discover Amelia's identity, triggering her husband's lust for revenge. The act is a miracle of construction: spooky orchestral introduction, multi-part aria, duet, trio, and extended ensemble.
| March 5 | |
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| Bryn Terfel as Hans Sachs and Rachel Willis-Sorensen as Eva, in London | RESOURCES |
5. Richard Wagner: Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (1867)
Wagner had little to learn about extended sequences of complex music. All his mature operas are written in continuous textures that are neither aria nor recitative, but sung drama, often extending for an hour or more at a time. What makes certain passages special is not their continuity, but the fact that you can hear within them the individual musical numbers that have become famous in their own right. One such case occurs in the middle of the Third Act of Die Meistersinger, in which cobbler-poet Hans Sachs helps the young knight Walther von Stolzing polish up his entry for a singing competition, so that he may marry Eva, whom her father has offered as prize for the victor. So in addition to a dress rehearsal of the Prize Song, we get the celebrated Quintet, then the festive march as the various guilds arrive for the competition. This is Wagner at his richest and most tuneful.
| March 12 | |
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| Bryn Terfel as Boris Godunov in London | RESOURCES |
6. Modest Mussorgsky: Boris Godunov (1872)
Opera was a fairly new thing in Russia at the time Mussorgsky was writing, and his epic history of Tsar Boris (reigned 1598–1605) takes place via a series of often-oblique vignettes rather than the continuous narratives preferred by Western composers. All the same, the individual scenes develop remarkable momentum that Mussorgsky created by several means: the unique color of his musical style, his psychological study of the Tsar's mental degeneration as he is consumed with guilt for having murdered his rival, and the major role given to the chorus as representatives of the Russian people. We will play the prologue to the opera, culminating in the celebrated Coronation scene. And if time, we will follow that up by the death of Boris near the end of the opera.
| March 26 | |
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| Maria Jose Montiel as Carmen in Atlanta | RESOURCES |
7. Georges Bizet: Carmen (1875)
It may seem odd to single out Carmen as an example of continuity; Bizet originally wrote the piece as an opéra comique, in separate musical numbers linked by spoken dialogue. The composer died believing the work a failure. His heirs replaced the dialogue with sung recitatives in more conventional style, and in that form the opera conquered the stages of the world. But whether spoken or sung, the first act at least has an inbuilt drama that makes the whole infinitely more compelling that the sum of its parts. So much so that the modern practice of restoring the original connective dialogues has not weakened the drama, but intensified it.
| April 2 | |
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| Lisette Oropesa as Manon at the Met, with Michael Fabiano as Des Grieux | RESOURCES |
8. Jules Massenet: Manon (1884)
In Act One, the young Chévalier Des Grieux elopes with the teenage Manon on her way to a convent. In Act Two, they are living in a Paris garret when she gets an offer she can't refuse: to move into a life of luxury as the mistress of a much richer man. Act Three, the latter part of which we shall play, takes place several years later. Manon is the toast of the town, but she has not forgotten Des Grieux. Hearing from his father (in a scene whose texture is surely unique in opera) that he is about to take his vows for the priesthood, she goes to the church where he is preaching his graduation sermon to try to seduce him. And succeeds.
| April 9 | |
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| Virginia Tola as Tosca in Rome | RESOURCES |
9. Giacomo Puccini: Tosca (1900)
Yet another opera with the heroine's name as its title! It is set in Rome in 1800, when Napoleon's invasion of Italy threatens the stability of Neapolitan control over the city. The singer Floria Tosca is in love with the painter Mario Cavaradossi, a secret revolutionary. She comes to see him in the church of Sant'Andrea della Valle, where he is painting an altarpiece. This happens to be at a time when Cavaradossi is hiding one of his political allies, who has escaped from prison. This sets off a chain of events in which Tosca inadvertently betrays him to Baron Scarpia, the chief of police. Scarpia now has a double motive for inviting the diva to his rooms that evening: to entrap the painter and give rein to his own lust. The entire act is an unbroken arc of high-tension drama, but unfortunately we shall have to break it somewhere, as it is too long to play complete.
| April 16 | |
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| Julianne Gearhart and Alice Coote as Sophie and Octavian in Seattle) | RESOURCES |
10. Richard Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier (1911)
Neither of the two young people in the picture above—Sophie von Faninal and Count Octavian (a teenage boy written to be played by a woman)—are quite the most important characters in the opera, but they undoubtedly have the prettiest music. The leading character, the Marschallin, is an older woman who has taken Octavian as a lover. When a boorish distant relative, Baron Ochs, tells her of his intent to marry Sophie (with his eye on her father's wealth), the Marschallin suggests Octavian for the traditional role of Rosenkavalier, or Knight of the Rose, who will present the formal proposal, half aware that he may fall for Sophie himself. Once more, we will watch two substantial excerpts: the beginning of Act Two, leading to the musical magic of the Presentation of the Rose, and the end of Act Three, including the famous Trio in which Octavian has to negotiate a path between the two women.
| April 23 | |
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| Eric Owens and Angel Blue as Porgy and Bess at the Met | RESOURCES |
11. George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess (1935)
Porgy and Bess is a vernacular opera about poor Black folk living on a waterfront in South Carolina, written entirely by White New Yorkers. Accusations of cultural appropriation aside, it has become an American classic and a continuing source of employment for African American performers. I have to admit my personal feeling that it steers an uneasy path between the numerous hit numbers such as Gershwin and his brother Ira turned out so impressively in their many musicals, and the need for the continuous dramatic development of a true opera. Nevertheless, it is now more often performed in opera houses than on Broadway, and I intend to focus on those elements that make this possible. rb.
| April 30 | |
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| Peter Grimes in Copenhagen | RESOURCES |
12. Benjamin Britten: Peter Grimes (1945)
The pacifist Britten was living in New York during the War when he saw a performance of Porgy and Bess on Broadway. This spurred him to complete a project about waterfront folk from his own part of the world, East Anglia, and he returned to Britain in order to see it produced. Although somewhat traditional in structure, it was hailed as a new begining for British opera, largely for its use of the orchestra to harnesss the force of the sea, and brilliant portrayal of the inhabitants of the seaside town in which it is set. Though quite different from one another as character studies, they are united in their suspicion of Peter Grimes, a loner who rejects community interference. Supported by an unusually active and equally prejudiced chorus, they hound the poor fisherman until he eventually takes his own life.
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