This post is solely dedicated to George Frideric Handel, whose birthday all the musical world is celebrating today and to his music that keeps us alive and strong no matter what.
(Originally I was planning it as a 2-chapter post, but since Chapter 2 is still in the works, I’ll just publish Chapter 1 for now and publish Chapter 2 later as its sequel.
So, without further delay, here it is.
Chapter 1. A Sneak Peek at Giulio Cesare
Nothing on that Saturday predicted that anything unusual was about to happen. And believe me, nothing unusual would have happened, had we not gone to Troy’s music class at Peabody. But we went. And it did.
That’s the thing about Peabody: once you are in, you are up for a musical adventure. Besides enjoying and learning a lot in his music class that he has been attending religiously since September, Troy has been given multiple opportunities to touch and even play a number of real life instruments, including drums, timpani and even a real, grown-up xylophone.
Because Peabody operates so that both Preparatory and Conservatory students literally study door to door, on our way to Troy’s class, we often get to sneak peek at some kind of rehearsal or recital, taking place behind those heavy wooden doors. Ironically, all but one…
Right next door to Troy’s classroom, there is this other classroom, with a sign Opera Studio on it. To be precise, (and just in a little while you will learn why it is so important to be precise here), the Opera Studio classroom is behind two heavy wooden doors with a little “entre-chambre” in between. Even though Door #1 is often half-open, Door #2 is always locked and it does not look like anything is ever happening behind it. That is until that Saturday it did not look that way, because as Troy and I were passing Opera Studio on our way to Troy’s classroom, there it was – the unmistakable voice of the good old harpsichord.
'You hear, mama – said Troy – is this Handel?'
Before we continue, let me clarify something here. As much as Troy loves music, he is not proficient enough yet to tell Handel from other baroque composers. However, since the most harpsichord music he has heard so far was Handel’s, he based his assumption on his knowledge and probably, intuition. Anyway, having listened closer I thought that Troy could have actually been right. It did sound a lot like Handel! The music did not sound very familiar, but was piercing and filled with light through and through at the same time. Does this sound like Handel to you? It sure did to me.
‘Come on, mama, let’s listen’,- said Troy.
A much needed reality check: a good look at my watch. 11:20 a.m.
10 more minutes before the class. The whole 10 minutes with Handel!
So we stepped through the half-open Door #1 to find ourselves in the dark “entre-chambre” with a nice woody smell to it and in front the closed Door#2. For a minute or so we just stood there in the dark, listening, until the door opened (don’t they always, in good stories at least?) and a girl (obviously, one of the opera students) came out. She was wearing a t-shirt, a pair of leggings and nothing on her feet.
The barefoot girl greeted Troy in a very sweet way and asked him if he liked the music.
At that time Troy made me really proud by saying nicely and clearly: "I like music. I like Handel!”
The girl was extremely touched by Troy’s words. She told us that they ( Peabody Chamber Opera) were rehearsing Handel’s Giulio Cesare,( aka Giulio Cesare in Egitto), asked us if we would like to come in and listen and went back to get the director’s permission. A mere moment later, the door opened again and the barefoot girl motioned to us to come up, took Troy by the hand and walked him right into Act 1 of Giulio Cesare.
The mysterious Opera Studio turned out to be a relatively small room with a harpsichord in the corner, next to a stack of Roman scenery columns. “The stage”, we assumed was in the center of the room, and the front of the stage was “marked” with a line of thin scenery trees. Two young mezzos were standing among those trees, getting ready to sing.
There were artists all around the room. Some were sitting on the floor studying the score, others were standing up. A young conductor with a score copy in his hands (as young as everyone else in the room, besides Troy who was younger, and yours truly who was older) was sitting on a spinning chair facing “the stage’. In other words, it was the Opera “Kitchen”, the marvelous place where opera was cooking in every possible way: brewing, steaming and definitely sizzling.
During my experience of working in theaters, I learned to love and cherish rehearsals and have always considered them the best part of theater. True, you don’t get to see fancy costumes and scenery. Oftentimes, it’s just a bare stage and artists wearing T-shirts, leggings and no make up. But guess what: there is no need for any of those, because rehearsals are all about work – active, inspiring and sometimes dirty work, if you will. At the same time, it is the most productive process of co-thinking, co-acting and most importantly, co-creating. In other words, it is the process during which the ultimate truth is born. And personally to me, the creative process is often more fascinating than the finished product.
Back to Giulio Cesare, by the time we sat down on a small wooden bench by the wall, the two mezzos started singing one the most beautiful duets ever written, the duet of Cornelia and Sesto, Son nata a lagrimar (commonly considered a Handel hit).
So the barefoot girl, Troy and I sat there embracing the blissful precious moments of live Handel’s music. It was wonderful. It was magic. The voices sounded amazing (yes, you heard it right – your picky opera girl praised Opera Studio artists).
Troy froze in his seat, fascinated. The two mezzos got his undivided attention: he never took his eyes off them and never missed a note. He just watched and listened to the music of the duet that for centuries has been touching the strings of so many human hearts. The duet ended at 11:28, just in time for us to thank the barefoot girl and quietly sneak out into the real world and walk no more than just 10 steps to Troy’s classroom.
Troy could not stop talking about his experience and the harpsichord Handel’s music he liked so much and other parents got really excited and said they wished they could take their kids too.
Theoretically I could have asked the barefoot girl when and where they would be performing. However, practically, with all the music and singing going on around us, it was not the time to talk.
So I did some research and learned that during the long President’s Day weekend, aka right around Handel’s birthday, the Peabody Chamber Opera was giving a run of four performances in a tiny theater called Theater Project. The prices did not seem to bite and the times were convenient. When I mentioned it to Troy, he got all excited about going, but I knew – this time it would just be Act 1.
Don’t get me wrong – Giulio Cesare is a very exciting opera, full of incredible music and personalities whose mere names are a thrill to pronounce. But you know where I stand: Troy is three and I’d rather have him all excited and wanting to come back than exhausted and cranky.
Even though the plot is really interesting, telling it to a three-year-old is not worth it. It is so historical that all he will feel is tired of the names and the events. In short – not a good idea. So I just limited my explanations to simple ones like: “This is the king [about Cesare]. He is very kind and very smart.” and “This is the princess. She is beautiful [about Cleopatra]” and “this is mama and this is her son[about Cornelia and Sesto]”.
If you ever take your 3-year-old to an opera with a historical plot – do as I say and do as I do: don’t worry about history. Remember, your kid is not there for the history or the names – he is there for the music. And the music will do it all. The right way.
Up next – Act 1 of Giulio Cesare – stay tuned for the fun and lovely report.
