“…And Beauty is a form of Genius – is higher, indeed, than Genius, as it needs no explanation. It is of the great facts of the world, like sunlight, or spring-time, or the reflections in dark waters of that silver shell we call the moon. It cannot be questioned. It has its divine right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it… You smile? Ah! when you have lost it you won’t smile.… People say sometimes that Beauty is only superficial. That may be so. But at least it is not as superficial as Thought is. To me, Beauty is the wonder of wonders. It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances. The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible…”
This excellent quotation from ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ appeared in my friend Andrea’s timeline within a larger passage (I’ll paste it below in a commentary, in a French translation), and I thank her for the reminder of this beloved book which treats in so many facets and in multiple ways the subject of Beauty and passing Time. Her post was also the reminder to me that Oscar Wilde wrote in English and in French, of which all of my opera friends are well aware (he wrote the original play ‘Salomé’ in wonderfully torrid French, and that text is what was adapted to become the libretto for the opera by Richard Strauss).
Some years ago, I had the great fortune to be engaged to sing the world premier performance of ‘Dorian Gray,’ the fabulously grand-scale opera by Lowell Liebermann, at the Opéra de Monte Carlo (1). During my personal preparation for the opera, and having already committed to memory the music and libretto, I brought the novel along with me that same spring to Jerusalem, where I was performing ‘Carmen’ with the Royal Opera House on tour (2). At my request, and during those two unforgettable weeks in Israel, a most charming member of the ROH chorus spent several hours after rehearsals reading aloud to me the entire novel, especially the delicious moments of dialog, in his wonderfully posh British accent. So many jasmine-scented memories return from those heady days spent in the center of historic Jerusalem, of so many performances offered up under the starry sky at the foot of King David’s Gate, of daytimes spent absorbing the drenching sun at the poolside, or of hiking off to make wonderful discoveries in every corner of that ancient city. I’m drifting, but there is a definite connection for me of those days and nights spent years ago in the land of milk and honey, and the timely words and lessons of Oscar Wilde.
In the opera, I was Basil Hallward, the painter who has become madly attracted to his subject, Mr Dorian Gray. It’s another role that I must confess suited me to a T, as did the complex character of Sir John Claggart (‘Billy Budd’). But more on that in my personal tell-all biography, which may or may not ever get finished.
1. Singing in that legendary theater designed by Charles Garnier for the first time had a mighty impact on me indeed. The Théàtre de Monte Carlo is where all the greats of the 20th century sang, Battistini, Caruso, Gigli, not to mention Feodor Chaliapin and Lucy Arbell in the first performances of Massenet’s ‘Don Quichotte’ in 1910.
2. My job with the ROH was to sing Zuniga, alongside the amazing Maria Ewing, and believe me she was fabulously in voice and in character at that time. Unforgettable.)