What’s yours?

While I listened later to the fantastic music of the opera and read the words of its main character, my mind kept going back to Triboulet, not Hugo’s character but the actual historical figure he was based on and the true headwaters of the inspiration that led to Rigoletto. Triboulet’s sad life among the nobility of 15th/16th century France must have been a constantly fitful volley between their laughter and scorn. His job, such as it was, included general entertainment, some occasional palace intrigue and, when the courtiers’ whims dictated, a limited taste of the privileged class. He was perfect for it, built for it in fact. His rapier wit made them howl. His finesse in the arts of foul play made him indispensable during their political sparring matches. And his unfortunate physical deformities required them to keep him at a comfortable, expensively-clad arm’s length. He was their fool, their hilarious, spiteful hunchbacked fool.

I had so many questions for him. What kind of toll does it take to suffer such disdain? And to know that your own actions will eventually make you worthy of it? And to do it all anyhow though you know enough secrets about the petty horrible people you work for to keep your beloved daughter hidden from them? Hugo’s Triboulet, like his more modern incarnation Rigoletto, was as much the author as victim of his personal tragedy. If only I could have asked him (the real one) about it. I understood him, I believed, and if I could have simply interviewed him, it might well have gone a little something like…

JC: So, when did you begin…performing for King Francis I?

Triboulet: It started before him actually, with King Louis XII. His majesty heard that his footmen were antagonizing the village idiot – me – and demanded I be presented to him. I suppose I…well, impressed him.

JC: Just like that? He made you his jester on the spot?

Triboulet: Of course. Look at me.

JC: Yeah, we should talk about that.

Triboulet: What’s to discuss? It is my lucky birthright to look as I do. The absurdly small size of my head is due to a condition called microcephaly. The hump is real too but, in truth, I do favor it a bit for effect. I was truly born to this life. This blessed life.

JC: I…okay. Was it different with Francis I? Your role in the court?

Triboulet: Role? With Louis I was a mere buffoon, a curiosity. Francis made me necessary. I was his Iago, more present in court than his chief consort.

JC: Really? Did you begin to feel like you were one of them? The nobility?

Triboulet: Of course! I spread their rumors for them. I delivered their insults when they feared to. I was the all-knowing shadow during all of their ridiculous jealousies. You don’t trust that sort of role to the fool. That is the function of a colleague.

JC: You can’t truly believe that.

Triboulet: No?

JC: No. You were a pet to them. They mocked you openly. Come on, why else would you have worked so hard to keep your daughter a secret?

Triboulet: You have me confused with Monsieur Hugo’s and Maestro Verdi’s versions of me. Sadly, I was childless.

JC: Oh…I apologize…

Triboulet: But had I been a father – and of a daughter no less – rest assured that I would have kept her away from the palace at all costs.

JC: Why?

Triboulet: It was no place for her. It was a place for vipers.

JC: Exactly, vipers! Including, by all accounts, you by the time King Francis began to tire of you.

Triboulet: Maybe so, maybe so. But I survived did I not?

JC: But at what cost? They treated every aspect of your existence with such smiling disgust. Not even your daughter was out of bounds. It drove you to arrange a murder!

Triboulet: Again, sir, you mistake me for…

JC: Right, sorry. At least please tell me how you survived. What did you have to become to endure it for so long, through two kings and countless other noble men?

Triboulet: Hmm. That question gives me pause.

JC: Take your time.

Triboulet: No, no. Time is something I want no more of. I will answer thusly: My tears were no less salty than their spit.

JC: I’m not sure I…

Triboulet: Look, you called my bluff correctly before. I was never their colleague. I was only their jester. But even a jester can make perfect use of himself, if cunning enough and willing enough to employ a certain viciousness on occasion. It is true that in their sport I was merely the ball, but it is just as true that without the ball, the games could not be played. I’ll ask you a question now that you, even though you have already answered in your preamble. Who is most remembered today? Did Maestro Verdi name his opera for one of the court lackeys? The monarch himself? Or even my daughter? Or did he name it for a fool?

Two weeks ago, five brave Resident Artists journeyed to Piute, Wayne, and Garfield counties to bring opera to the children of this beautiful yet remote region of Utah. The Utah Opera Resident Artists (Baritone-John Buffett, Pianist-Daveth Clark, Mezzo-Sishel Claverie, Soprano-Jennie Litster, and Tenor-Andrew Penning) go on 5 week-long tours throughout the year. While on this most recent tour they gave twelve performances in five days for approximately 1,000 students and teachers. The remote location of this tour gave the Resident Artists the unique experience of performing for two very small schools of eleven and fifteen students, each with only one teacher. The students were very appreciative of the entertainment and the teachers told the artists on multiple occasions, “these kids so rarely get programs like this.” Students at Escalante Elementary in Garfield County showed their appreciation by coming to school dressed in their Sunday Best.

During the tour, while they weren’t performing, the Resident Artists spent their free time exploring their beautiful natural surroundings. This included a hike in Capitol Reef to a lookout of Chimney Rock. It had just snowed and our Mexican mezzo, Sishel Claverie, got her first real experience with trekking through snow. The whole gang discovered that they should have brought along proper footwear.

Evenings included home-made meals and intense games of Hearts and Settlers of Catan. The communities were also very hospitable, allowing the Artists to practice for upcoming auditions and concerts in their churches and schools.

On the drive from Boulder to Escalante the young artists made frequent stops at scenic overlooks to get out of the van, take pictures, and read the information at these sights. They learned that before the road from Boulder to Escalante was built, supplies and deliveries between the towns were made via mule-trains. The artists found this very amusing since one of the pieces they perform in their “Opera Star” program for the elementary school kids is called “The Muleteer Duet,” from Offenbach’s La Perichole. Every time this duet is performed, Andrew Penning always explains to the kids that “a Muleteer is basically a delivery man who uses a mule to carry his deliveries,” and further he explains, “a Mule is a combination of a horse and a donkey.” So at their last show at Escalante Elementary, John Buffett, who was hosting the “Opera Star” performance, added the historical anecdote about mules and Muleteers in Escalante. During this show we also took a moment to observe that the time was 11:11 on 11/11/11 and that we should all make a wish.

After the last concert the Artists parted ways with John, Andrew, and Daveth heading back to Salt Lake City via Bryce Canyon National Park, while the girls, joined by Education Director Paula Fowler and Assistant Tracy Hansford, took the same journey home the following day after doing some more exploring in the Escalante area. Taking in the spectacular views of the hoodoos in the giant natural amphitheater of Bryce Canyon was certainly a fitting end to a magical tour.

If you or your children attend this schools, keep a look out, and cheer on the Resident Artists!

We would like to share a moment with you in observation of Veterans Day. Echoing President Woodrow Wilson’s words when it was first proclaimed, we are filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who have served and died for our country.

It took a while to come up with a good musical selection for today, but I settled on Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man.

Copland, in his autobiography, wrote of the piece:

“Eugene Goossens, conductor of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, had written to me at the end of August about an idea he wanted to put into action for the 1942-43 concert season. During World War I he had asked British composers for a fanfare to begin each orchestral concert. It had been so successful that he thought to repeat the procedure in World War II with American composers”.

To wrap up National Opera Week, we’d like to wish a late happy birthday to opera composer Vicenzo Bellini, who was born November 3, 1801.

Bellini was a musical prodigy, and it is claimed that he could sing an aria by 18 months, was studying music theory at age two, and the piano at age three. Whether it is true or not, he did grow up in a very musical household, and spent his rather short life studying and composing music. Bellini died at the age of just 33. He is known for very long, lyrical melodic lines, and he is one of the best examples of the bel canto style of opera. His operas, including La sonnambula, I puritani, and Norma, are still quite popular today.

This is probably his most famous aria, “Casta Diva” from Norma.

And from La sonnambula, “Ah! non credea mirarti”.
The first line of this is engraved on Bellini’s headstone – “Ah! non credea mirarti Sì presto estinto, o fior”, which translates roughly to “I did not believe you would fade so soon, oh flower”.

My First Role
By Paula Fowler

My first opera experience was singing the role of Kate Pinkerton in Utah Opera’s 1993 Madama Butterfly. Kate sings only 6 lines and doesn’t appear til the final act, but I loved that the make-up artist told me that while I was sitting in his make-up chair, the name of the opera was Kate Pinkerton as far as he was concerned.  The experience of rehearsing and performing with amazing singers in that production, as well as getting acquainted with backstage and onstage life in the theatre, really got me hooked on opera.

I signed on for the Utah Opera Chorus afterwards, and treasure memories of various productions for all kinds of reasons: my family knows I liked being chosen as a “sexy draper” in a production of Carmen, and I loved being part of the costume parades of gorgeous gowns in The Merry Widow and La Traviata (which, as far as the chorus goes, is one big party from beginning to end). I also got a hoot being in the mariachi band featured in our production of Don Pasquale, and enjoyed the challenge of learning the complicated square dance in The Grapes of Wrath. Another delightful highlight was when Propsmaster Kelly Nickle hid the infamous plastic alligator in the bustle of my gown during one of our summer Gilbert & Sullivan productions.

One of my favorite opera chorus recollections is of our production of Gluck’s Orphée et Eurydice. The chorus was an important part of each of the 4 scenes in the opera, and in each scene we portrayed a different pure emotion: we were sad at Eurydice’s funeral, angry in red as demons in hell, then serene in white in heaven, and finally exuberant in a final celebration.  It was a fantastic emotional and musical journey every performance, and I remember thinking what a fabulous thing it was to be able to pursue singing as a life hobby but get the opportunity to be part of the performances of a professional company. I don’t know any other art form where people can do that.

The Opera Bug
by Julie McBeth

After getting bitten by the ‘opera bug’ at a music camp in high school, I pursued a career as a professional singer until I discovered I was not cut out for the lifestyle. Spending only a few weeks with each company before moving on to the next performances and not seeing my home for months at a time just didn’t seem like living to me. Luckily, I’ve always felt fulfilled by any sort of performance regardless of the size of role or theater. Singing in the Opera Chorus (or performing an acting role in an opera as a Supernumerary) satisfies my creative expression needs and has the added bonus of allowing me to more deeply engage with all of the artists involved in each production. I love the collaborative spirit of opera: how all of the art forms come together to create a sum greater than each of the parts and how the artists who participate support each other and work together.

My favorite Utah Opera experiences are numerous, but two particularly stand out. First was, acting one of the attendants of Cleopatra in Julius Caesar — wearing fantastic 1920s era costumes and doing a Busby Berkeley style production number during two of the arias. And the second was as a chorus member of The Grapes of Wrath — playing numerous characters and incorporating challenging choreography into our staging.