Praise for The Pearl Fishers

Seattle Opera in The Pearl Fishers. Philip Newton photo

"Like magical poetry set to music." - Huffington Post 

"There wasn’t a static moment to be found: This was an opera constantly on the move, with one vividly presented scene after another." - The Seattle Times

"I wish I could choose my earworms, and if I could, one of my first would be a few bars from "Au fond du temple saint" in The Pearl Fishers. The simple melody, which repeats throughout the opera, does what Western music is meant to do. It quiets you, then it swells, and then it makes you want to stand up like something's lifting you, arising you. It makes you yearn for something beautiful, unsayable, and sad." - The Stranger

Anthony Kalil (Nadir) and Keith Phares (Zurga) in Seattle Opera's The Pearl Fishers. Philip Newton photo

"The shrewdest casting was Maureen McKay as Léïla, her soprano rich in timbre, with something worldly and knowing about it..." - Seattle Weekly

"The indisputable star of the evening was Brett Polegato, who dominated the stage whenever he appeared...More importantly, Polegato successfully conveyed the complex torment of the role – from powerful leader to unfulfilled lover to desperate friend, it was a pleasure to see a performance that transcended the stock love triangle cliché." - Bachtrack

"On Sunday, Keith Phares and Anthony Kalil took over as Zurga and Nadir, with Elizabeth Zharoff as Léila. This trio was completely different from the opening-night cast, yet they also found their own balance: Zharoff was a more powerful and focused Léila, Kalil a lighter and more lyrical Nadir, and Phares a strong, conflicted Zurga." - The Seattle Times

Dancers perform choreography by John Malashock in Seattle Opera's The Pearl Fishers. Philip Newton photo

"Much of the acting was illuminated by the choreography of John Malashock, whose dance sequences ran the gamut from ethereal beauty to threatening, murderous mob scenes. The dancers, pliant and primitive and highly athletic, used long sticks and bright airborne ribbons to marvelously expressive effect. The entire troupe was excellent, but the three principals — Kyle Bernbach, Roxanne Foster and Kyle Johnson — deserve an extra round of applause." - The Seattle Times

"John Tessier’s high, almost haute-contre tenor is ideal for Nadir’s Act 1 romance – combining an easy legato with a finely modulated voix mixte, this was by far the best performance I’ve heard of this killer aria. Tessier shows a strong command of the style, and his crystalline French was the finest in the cast." - Bachtrack

"The Pearl Fishers is a pleasure to both the eyes and to the ears. It's sexy, fun, and wonderfully whimsical – a riveting opera that will draw you in to this (tragic) love triangle with grace, ease, and storybook allure." - Heed the Hedonist

Elizabeth Zharoff (Léïla) and Keith Phares (Zurga) in Seattle Opera's The Pearl Fishers. Philip Newton photo

"But the real star of this production is set and costume designer Zandra Rhodes, whose zany, colorful fabrics created a magical atmosphere of sensuality and playfulness. The lighting designed by Ron Vodicka completed the visual beauty of the production and enhanced the dance sequences (splendidly choreographed by John Malashock). Two scenes in Act I were particularly stunning visually: the processional entrance of the veiled priestess Léïla, borne on a litter; and the preparation of her bed chamber - flower petals and pillows everywhere - by her attendants. Both of these scenes featured sets and costumes of brilliant orange and pink; the effect was pure enchantment." - Seattle Gay News 

"Then, of course, there is the glorious music. Conductor Emmanuel Joel-Hornak and the orchestra gave full rein to Bizet’s musical vision of this luminously exotic world, from the finest spun emotion to the most primally savage dance. The Seattle Opera Chorus was, as usual, spectacular, particularly singing in anger and terror during a violent storm." - Queen Anne News

Brett Polgato in Seattle Opera's The Pearl Fishers. Philip Newton photo

Staff Chat with Associate Director of Marketing KRISTINA MURTI

Associate Director of Marketing Kristina Murti has been luring Seattleites—both the converted and unconverted alike—to opera for the past 15 years. Trained as a classical pianist and mom of two young daughters, she brings her love of music and live entertainment to her family life and to her work. And boy does she work—tirelessly—to find new ways to communicate the thrilling experience of live opera to the masses and to make it accessible to all.

I’ve heard you talk about how Seattle Opera offers a quality product. Could you expand on that idea of opera as product?
People come to Seattle Opera for an evening of quality entertainment, and to share the experience with family or friends. We’ve been very successful at that. When people leave the theater after an opera, our goal is for them not only to feel like they’ve seen a thrilling performance, but also to realize that seeing it live was an important part of why it was so amazing. Live performance is a big part of what we’re selling and it’s the hardest thing to communicate to our potential customers.

DIY OPERA HALLOWEEN — (Part 2)

Monte Jacobson photo

Ieva Ohaks, Seattle Opera’s Costume Stock and Rental Coordinator, loves Halloween. This year, she's holding a “Medieval Fairy Tale” Halloween party, the theme of which was selected largely because everyone in her household got costumes from the old Lohengrin production at a Seattle Opera costume sale. ("We are so excited to show them off!"). Last year, it was a murder mystery/detective theme, and Ieva was Mrs. Peacock. Her dog was Colonel Mustard. 

The keeper of Seattle Opera's costume stock kingdom hopes to help you make the most out of Halloween. So this week, she's sharing some ideas for costumes inspired by iconic opera characters. These costumes will be easily recognized by opera fans, (but everyone will be able to appreciate them!). Cook up these do-it-yourself looks with thrift-store finds or items from your home. They can be created without sewing skills.

Opera Inspiration: Tosca 

The traditional Tosca is set in 1802, so the fashions are “Napoleonic” or “Empire.” The diva's most iconic look is for the second act, when she confronts the sadistic Baron Scarpia after singing for the dignitaries of Rome. She is wearing a spectacular gown, and it is usually—but not always—red. 

Ieva Ohaks drawing; Elise Bakketun photo 

Hair:

• Updo with tiara. 

Accessories:

• Tiara, earrings and necklace: you might find something suitably sparkly at a teen accessory shop if you can't find a thrift-store source. 

Gown:

• Look for a long, straight gown with a high empire waist (or add a ribbon or metallic belt to a gown with no waistline) Short puffy sleeves are best. 

Shawl: 

• Long and rectangular; opulent. 
• (Thrift store tip: look in the Housewares area for luxurious throw blankets or curtains—it's a good way to get a large enough piece of fabric). 

Gloves: 

• Above the elbow. 

Tosca's Iconic prop:

Elise Bakketun photo

• The dagger, of course! Costume shops have all kinds of fake daggers. If you want to be scary, you can use one with fake blood, and even paint fake blood onto your gloves (ahead of time, so it has time to dry!) 

Mario Cavaradossi—Tosca's beloved, a painter

Ieva Ohaks drawing; Elise Bakketun photo

Hair: 

• Tousled and styled forward. 
• A little sideburn looks period. 

Oversized smock:

• Dress shirt (gray, drab blue or beige work well) with a not-too-pointy standard collar. Turn the collar up. 
• Add paint splotches. 

Cravat: 

• A long, supple, narrow scarf tide outside the collar to hold the collar up. Tie in a soft loose bow or a simple knot. 

Bottoms: 

• Trim-fitting light tan trousers work well for the period. 

Footwear: 

• Option 1) Boots, ideally a slim riding-style boot, trousers tucked in. 
• Option 2) Unobtrusive slip-on dress shoes; smooth toecap is best. 

Elise Bakketun photo

(Baron Scarpia is a thrilling sinister character, too; anyone who can get hold of a 1802 frockcoat suit doesn't need advice from me!)

DIY Halloween — Opera Style!

Ieva Ohaks is Seattle Opera’s Costume Stock and Rental Coordinator, managing approximately 15 tons of costume stock and providing costume rental services to professional opera and theater companies. She has worked for Seattle Opera since 1996, starting out as a costume crafts artisan and costume shop assistant, and working in her current position since 1999. Although she works with amazing costumes all day, it’s still not enough! As you can imagine, Ieva is pretty excited for Halloween. Over the next week, she'll share some ideas for costumes inspired by iconic opera characters. These costumes will be easily recognized by opera fans, (but everyone will be able to appreciate them!). Cook up these do-it-yourself looks with thrift-store finds or items from your home. They can be created without sewing skills.

Opera Inspiration: Papageno and Papagena from The Magic Flute: 

Photo by Rozarii lynch

Beaky hat:

• Baseball hat 
• Color posterboard or cardstock (try yellow or orange) 
• Cut in a big triangle with one curved side to attach to the hat's visor 
• Attach with hot glue, heavy-duty staples, or punch holes in both and attach with yarn or metal brad fasteners 

Base layer:

• Close fitting long-sleeve crew neck or turtleneck in a fun color 
• Matching leggings, close-fitting sweatpants, or tights 

Feathery jerkin/vest:

• Start with an oversize thrifted knit sweatshirt in a different bright color
• Cut an opening down the center front if it's a pullover
• Cut the sleeves off shortish, then cut into the sleeve in irregular feathery shapes
• Make similar cuts around the hem and around the neckline

Pantaloons:

• Start with oversize sweatpants, cut off a little longer than your desired finished length, then cut irregular feathery shapes
• Use the cut-off cuffs of both sweatshirt and sweatpants to make feathery bands at wrist and ankle: Keep the elastic or ribbing intact; cut the material above the ribbing into the same kind of feathery shapes

Feathers: extra plumes or pieces of feather boa (available at craft stores or costume stores) for tail, as a crest on the hat, around the waist or neck, wherever you need an extra bit of color

Papageno's Iconic Props: a set of reed pipes, which Papageno uses to lure the birds he catches; a bird cage to keep his captives

Papagena: Use any of the above ideas! Also consider a skirt, cut off in the same way as the pantaloons or vest, or even several skirts cut in different-length layers

Drawings by Ieva Ohaks  

Alan Alabastro photo

Western Fantasies of the East:

Orientalism at the Opera

The Pearl Fishers at Seattle Opera in 1994
Photo by Greg Eastman

Nowadays in the United States, the terms “Orient” and “Oriental” are well known as dated, racist labels for Asian peoples and cultures. But when we’re talking about opera and European art from the past, “Orientalism” has a much broader meaning. Orientalism referred to a white European fascination with Middle Eastern, Asian, and North African societies. Often, Orientalist operas depict friction between the dominant culture and an exotic, untamable “other.”⁣⁣ Orientalist works of art such as The Pearl Fishers, Carmen, Djamileh, Lakmé, Madame Butterfly and others helped European viewers fulfill fantasies about “exotic” people. These works also helped to justify ideas of superiority that fueled imperialism and colonialism. ⁣⁣

Historically and artistically, Orientalist operas occupy a curious position. These works were created during a period of enormous western imperial expansion, when European powers were racing each other to establish colonies all over the world. The folks back home had plenty of curiosity about the non-western world, but their access to real information was extremely limited. Thus, when we enjoy these works today, we also hold all the complexity of what they represent: Storytelling from a limited worldview. Narratives that often fail to represent non-white cultures with dignity and humanity. One can still enjoy a work of art, or beautiful music—while recognizing its limitations.

"I've been torn my entire life as an Indian American who conducts opera and orchestral rep," said Maestro Viswa Subbaraman, on the Seattle Opera podcast. "I see an opera like Lakmé, with its many religious themes, and I find this depiction of Hinduism to be quaint. But I'm also an advocate for not throwing the baby out with the bathwater. We look at these pieces through the realm of history. The music is beautiful, and the plots are difficult to deal with now. So I think we need to find ways to contextualize these pieces for our audiences without throwing out some real masterpieces." 

With musical examples from the Seattle Opera archives, here are some basic characteristics of the Orientalist opera genre:

Breathtaking beauty.

Madama Butterfly at Seattle Opera in 2012
Photo by Alan Alabastro

Fantasy worlds tend to be prettier than the real world, and the reason these Orientalist operas are still so popular is they’re really beautiful, both in terms of the visuals and the music. Often, the stories are actually about beauty, or how we react to it. The character of Vasco da Gama, in Meyerbeer’s L’Africaine, speaks for the audience in his aria, “O Paradis”: “O paradise, emerging from the sea, sky so blue, so clear, you ravish my eyes, you belong to me!” The Pearl Fishers is about the effects of beauty: the plot begins when best friends Nadir and Zurga both fall madly in love at first sight with an incomparably lovely woman, just as Puccini’s Turandot concerns a woman so irresistible any man who sees her will eagerly lay down his life for her. Among fictional western beauties, only Helen of Troy could compete.

Here’s a famous passage from an Orientalist opera whose only raison d’être is its beauty: the duet for the priestess Lakmé and her mezzo friend Mallika, from Délibes’ Lakmé (1883). Apart from indicating that the two young women are gorgeous, this duet doesn’t advance the story of the opera one bit. Yet it’s the beauty of this duet that makes people buy tickets for Lakmé.

Huguette Tourangeau and Joan Sutherland as Mallika and Lakmé at Seattle Opera in 1967
Photo by Des Gates

The “Flower Duet” from Délibes’ Lakmé, sung by Sutherland and Tourangeau, conducted by Richard Bonynge

Heightened, fantastical religion.

Nabucco at Seattle Opera in 2015
Photo by Philip Newton

Religion is of course a loaded topic. If the composer/librettist team placed the story in Europe, religion was handled very carefully. But through Orientalist works, these European creators went wild in dreaming up highly exaggerated or laughably inaccurate scenarios. Whether the characters are worshipping Baal (as in Nabucco), Dagon (in Samson et Dalila), or Diane (in Iphigénie en Tauride), the cults in these operas are always big on superstition and human sacrifice, and led by power-hungry fanatics. In The Pearl Fishers, not only do the grim priest Nourabad and his people worship easily irritated weather gods using the names of Hindu deities, they do so with extremely Catholic music. For the big choral hymn to Brahma, Bizet recycled music he had originally written for a Te Deum. You can all but smell the incense in the aisles of Nôtre Dame as Bizet’s pearl fishers pray for the gods not to smite them with lightning.

In an Orientalist opera written a few years later, a more experienced composer found a clever way around the question of how to write music for an invented religion and culture. For Aida (1871), Verdi invented a strange musical world full of pungent harmonies and curling arabesques to give the offstage chanting of his high priestess its eerie character:

Prayers to Ptah from Verdi’s Aida, Act 1 Scene 2, sung by Priti Gandhi, conducted by Riccardo Frizza

Unrestrained sensuality

Elizabeth Zharoff (Léïla) and Anthony Kalil (Nadir) in Seattle Opera's 2015 Pearl Fishers. 

While European religious culture encouraged uptight attitudes about sexuality at home, Orientalism eroticized the "ethnic" body, and these fetishistic narratives contribute to the hyper-sexualization of People of Color today. In Orientalist works, we see femme fatales who suck men dry and then toss the empties aside (see Bizet’s Carmen); enslaved young women lusting for their cruel masters (see Bizet’s Djamileh); and studly men devoting their lives to each other, eschewing the company of women (see Bizet’s Pearl Fishers). Dance, not always obligatory in opera, plays a big role in Orientalist works, because it brings sensuality so vividly onstage. Can you imagine Samson and Dalila without its orgiastic bacchanal, or Prince Igor without its provocative Dance of the Polovtsian Maidens?

We could have put together a whole playlist of famous dance sequences from French Orientalist works, but instead here’s an excerpt from a German opera, the famous Dance of the Seven Veils from Salome by Richard Strauss (1905). Based on a play by Oscar Wilde, this opera, which sweats in a sultry atmosphere of homoeroticism, nymphomania, incest, pedophilia, and necrophilia, went on to inspire generations of film composers when Orientalism continued through Hollywood.

Dance of the Seven Veils from Richard Strauss’sSalome, conducted by Gerard Schwarz

Cruel tyrants.

Aida at Seattle Opera in 2008
Photo by Rozarii Lynch

What’s an escapist fantasy without an over-the-top villain, a Darth Vader or Magneto or Wicked Witch of the West? In Orientalist opera, the bad guy tends to be a fearsome despot of legendary cruelty. The early days of the genre coincided with the vogue for “Rescue operas,” so in Mozart’s Abduction from the Seraglio the tenor rescues his soprano from a Turkish pasha’s harem, foiling the lust of the villainous bass, while Rossini’s Italian Girl in Algiers rescues her tenor from slavery, escaping the lust of another villainous bass. But those are both light-hearted comic operas, with bad guys who are really pretty silly. Nabucco, Attila, Turandot, and Rodgers & Hammerstein’s King of Siam are more serious threats, while stern religious fanatics like Lakmé’s father or Madama Butterfly’s uncle are just plain bad news.

Here’s a wicked tyrant from an opera predating the glory days of orientalist opera: Tolomeo, Cleopatra’s vicious little brother from Handel’s Giulio Cesare (1724), who greets Caesar upon his arrival in Egypt with the severed head of Pompey the Great. At least, here’s how Caesar describes Tolomeo, telling the audience all we need to know about this lascivious eastern villain: “I will say you are wicked. Get out of my sight! You are cruelty itself. A king is never harsh, and always knows mercy.”

”Empio, dirò, tu sei” from Handel’s Giulio Cesare, sung by Ewa Podles, conducted by Gary Thor Wedow

Incomparable splendor.

The Magic Flute at Seattle Opera in 1999
Photo by Gary Smith

Realistic art, in nineteenth-century Europe, took as its subject the everyday life of poor people. But Orientalist fantasy celebrates the opposite: lifestyles of the rich and powerful, drowning in wealth and enjoying outrageous adventures on the other side of the world. In addition to all the fun Arabian Nights stuff—lucky shipwrecks, wealthy caravans, sumptuous harems, and pirate treasure—these operas revel in scenes like Aida’s triumphal march, where the conquering army shows off all the treasures they’ve looted; or Herod’s long aria from Salome, in which the tyrant tries to tempt the girl with every item of value in his kingdom.

Here, from Puccini’s Turandot (1926), is a glorious musical processional into the sumptuous throne room at the heart of the legendary Forbidden City. Puccini had much more access to authentic Chinese music than earlier composers in this tradition; for this passage he stole some traditional tunes, invented others, and put it all together to powerful dramatic effect.

Interlude from Act Two of Puccini’s Turandot, conducted by Asher Fisch

AIDAN LANG On THE PEARL FISHERS

Listen, read, or download our latest podcast, in which Aidan Lang, Seattle Opera's General Director, introduces Bizet's youthful romantic fantasy, The Pearl Fishers. The show opens on October 17, 2015. Lang tells us about the exciting production coming to Seattle and shares his enthusiasm for this work, which has come back into fashion after a century of neglect.

To make great opera, a producer must assign work appropriate to the skills, talents, and interests of the artists. Tell us a little about the team you’ve assembled for this production of The Pearl Fishers.
We had decided to present The Pearl Fishers, and it was a question of choosing which production to bring to Seattle. For me, there was really little debate. There’s a production which dated from 2005, from San Diego, directed by Andrew Sinclair and designed by Zandra Rhodes. What they have brilliantly done between them is find, for want of a better word, a modern take on the ‘exotic’ impact which this piece would have had on its audiences in Paris in 1863. Zandra’s a textile designer. She has translated that not only to wonderful prints and costumes, which give them life and movement, but also taken the same idea of using motifs for the scenery. She’s not the person to go to if you want straightforward realistic scenery. It’s stylized to a certain extent. We’re clearly in Ceylon, and we have trees and everything, but by taking a two-dimensional and very colorful approach, she’s reflecting the sort of scenery which would have been there on Bizet’s stage.

The Pearl Fishers at San Diego Opera
Ken Howard, photo

Color is the key to this production. Loosely speaking, it’s coded; there are blues and green-blues for the pearl-fishing folk, while the priestesses and priests of Brahma are in reds, oranges, yellows. So it’s easy to identify who belongs to what camp. Rhodes’ vibrant use of color creates a visual impact akin to the spectacle which would be a part of The Pearl Fishers for Bizet’s audience.

Zandra Rhodes in Seattle with her Magic Flute costumes
Alan Alabastro, photo

Zandra Rhodes is a figure who absolutely has been at the center of fashion in London for as long as I can remember. In fact, a little story: I had to do a costume element to my university drama degree. I was inept at sewing, and I failed lamentably to create a female costume for a Jacobean tragedy. So I was moved sideways to a student play called PUNK: Would You Let Your Daughter Marry One?” And of course Zandra Rhodes was dubbed “the Princess of Punk” in those late ‘70s, her use of safety pins, so in evolving these costumes for a student play, I was of course echoing Zandra’s work in a bizarre way! In terms of opera, The Magic Flute, which was in San Diego and then here, was her first opera, Pearl Fishers was her second. She likes an opera with an element of fantasy in it. She’s not going to design a piece set in a slum somewhere. She wants something vibrant, that plays to the vibrancy of her designs.

Andrew Sinclair at rehearsal for The Pearl Fishers
Elise Bakketun, photo

Andrew Sinclair and I go back a very long way, because my very earliest job was working on the Ring cycle at Covent Garden in the beginning of the ‘80s, and Andrew was one of my colleagues there. I remember talking with him at great length about Wagner. Andrew is actually Australian, although he’s been at the Garden for many, many, many years, and lives in London. And of course Andrew got to Seattle before I did; he did Marriage of Figaro back in 1989. And of course I’m doing the next Figaro, in a few months’ time, so there’s a nice bridge there as well.

Assistant Choreographer Michael Mizerany rehearses dancers Kyle Bernbach and Eric Esteb, who play stilt fishermen in The Pearl Fishers
Elise Bakketun, photo

Dance is obviously a feature of nineteenth-century French opera. It was essentially mandatory to have a dance element, certainly at the Paris Opéra. And what Andrew has done is encourage dance, maybe more than we’re used to, to suggest the slightly primitive, tribal nature of this community, to add an element of excitement, an extra layer to some of the scenes which might otherwise appear somewhat static. So as I say this one was really the obvious production to bring. It’s been hugely successful, it’s played twelve times throughout the States since it was new. A couple of houses have done it twice, it’s been so popular. I think it really captures the essence of the piece, makes it appropriate to us today, and at the same time completely respects the background to the work and pays homage to its genesis in France in the middle of the nineteenth century.

Emmanuel Joel-Hornak coaching soprano Elizabeth Zharoff at a Pearl Fishers rehearsal
Elise Bakketun, photo

Our conductor, Emmanuel Joel-Hornak, again I’ve known a very, very long time. I gave him what I believe was his debut outside France when he was young—a production at Opera Zuid in Holland of Chabrier’s L’Étoile (a fantastic piece). It was directed by Christopher Alden, who’s coming to Seattle for The Flying Dutchman at the end of the season, and Emmanuel conducted. He’s really an expert in the score of The Pearl Fishers, he’s done it many times. And has an innate understanding of French music. Yes, he’s French, so you feel that should be the case; but it’s not always. Emmanuel really works beautifully with singers, he works beautifully with the orchestra, and this music is in his blood. I know everyone already in rehearsal has loved working with him. So we’ve got a very happy team, putting this show together!

The Pearl Fishers may be set in Ceylon; but this opera is as French as can be. Can you explain what’s so French about it?
Yes, this is a quintessentially French opera. There’s a wonderful saying by Noël Coward about Carmen; he said, “The Carmen of Bizet Is about as Spanish as the Champs-Élysée.” [Say it with a British accent and it rhymes!] And what he meant by that was that Carmen is essentially a French work, not a Spanish work, and the same applies to this, albeit not about Spain. This is not about Ceylon, or Sri Lanka, as we call it today.

French society in the middle of the nineteenth-century was quite straitlaced. But of course we all know, from Traviata, that men had mistresses on the side, courtesans, etc. There was this duality between proper married family status and, expressed in art, repressed emotions and desires and longings and sensuality. So in the second half of the nineteenth century there arose a school which we saw in art, in music, called orientalism. It’s allied with travellers going east, especially to Asia, to Japan and China, but also coupled with what I would term a patronizing attitude to the east. In other words it was deemed fascinating to put the east onstage, or in art; but there was an underlying assumption that western culture, western society, was inherently more ordered and moral. Now, in the mix of the hypocrisy I mentioned, this school of thought provided license, to a very proper society, to put sensuality onstage: it was okay because it wasn’t here, in Paris. It was somewhere else. Sensuality, inherent in the work and the music, is given license by its setting.

Maureen McKay (Leïla) and John Tessier (Nadir) rehearse a scene from The Pearl Fishers
Elise Bakketun, photo

Now, The Pearl Fishers I think doesn’t fit into that school of orientalism, because this piece is not about Ceylon. Bizet wasn’t writing a piece about the conflict between east and west, which you see in Lakmé, for example, set in imperial India. Probably the best parallel to today would be the way we put sci-fi onstage, or modern fantasy. To get that sense of something different, something otherworldly. And what our production does is capture that element of the fantastic by not putting realistic scenery or costumes onstage, but instead giving us a stylized version.

An example of how French it is, for me, comes with the hymn to Brahma at the end of Acts 1 and 2, where in fact, Bizet rehashed music from a Te Deum. For Seattle Opera's 2009 The Pearl Fishers, Gerard Schwarz conducted the chorus and orchestra of Seattle Opera.
It’s is about as Eastern as the music you’d hear in Nôtre Dame cathedral. There’s no pretense at making Ceylonese music in any way, shape, or form. This is French music, expressing that quintessentially French fusion of religion with desire: a chaste priestess, being longed after by two men. I don’t think we take it seriously. It would be more shocking if she were a nun in a Catholic church. Bizet didn’t want to go there; that would be dangerous. This way, it’s safe, and yet provides a frisson of this little battle between desire and propriety.

Bizet never had much success while he was alive, and because of his early death we have no idea what else he might have accomplished. How would you describe his legacy?
The Pearl Fishers is an early piece which actually was very successful with its audiences but not with its critics, with the glorious exception of Berlioz, who saw its virtues, especially orchestrally. And Carmen of course wasn’t a success, because it was daring and original and it was put in the wrong theater. And then Bizet died. In a way he was ahead of his time. For a young man, he writes music not only of incredible beauty but also fluidity and harmonic daring. When I listen to The Pearl Fishers I find little harmonic twists which flick me to moments in Carmen. Sometimes critics are unforgiving of young people when they write a clearly impressive piece. Bizet was only 24 when he wrote this. He wasn’t around long enough to create a huge volume of works. His originality may have held him back. And of course he was criticized for being under the influence of Wagner, which I think was unfair. He was misunderstood. And yet he was his own voice, and one of the great composers of opera, albeit with a small output. I think his early death is a tragedy for the art form, because he would have gone on to great things.

Melody is a really, really important part of The Pearl Fishers. ‘Beauty’ is the key word for this score; there’s a lyricism, an unending use of melody, which makes the evening just fly past, in musical terms. There’s a gorgeous tenor aria for Nadir; “Comme autrefois,” the beautiful aria for Leïla; even Zurga’s monologue in Act Three has great tenderness.

It puzzles me, how the piece got written off as being rather second-rate for many years. Yes, its plot is slightly formulaic. But the characterization is very interesting. It doesn’t have a big cast list—essentially it’s about three people, who must sustain the entire drama. And yet there’s real nuance to the idea of friendship and the betrayal of friendship; the longing, bordering on obsession, for this unattainable vision of beauty these guys have shared and have then rejected, resolved not to compromise their friendship. Psychologically, it’s actually a very sophisticated setup. Andrew Sinclair was telling me in rehearsals he’s been really delighted the singers are bringing nuance and complexity to their characters. Think about that whole situation: it’s more than black and white, it exists in a shade of grey. It’s a much more subtle piece than it was given credit for. And of course we have two casts, and Andrew was saying already there are differences between those two casts.

The Pearl Fishers’ ‘Friendship’ duet is only one of many such duets in French opera. Why is this piece so popular?
With the famous duet—known around the world as “The Pearl Fishers duet”—we have one of the great hit tunes of the entire repertoire. William Burden and Brett Polegato sang The Pearl Fishers' Duet at Seattle Opera in 2014, with Carlo Montanaro conducting the chorus and orchestra of Seattle Opera.
But what interests me about its use in the opera is how the melody comes back as what the French call an idée fixe, an obsession. So when the thought of the friendship or the pact emerges, you’ll hear that tune, or just a small part of it, in the orchestra, often just in the flute. It’s a Wagnerian technique, which may have been a source of its criticism. It’s a subtle technique which reminds us of the dramatic idea without requiring the singers to sing the melody again, as might have been done in lesser hands: you know, “Here’s the big tune, let’s milk it for all it’s worth!” Bizet’s is a more delicate approach. The tune is so strong, I’m sure Bizet’s audiences went wild when they heard it.

The opera hinges on this male friendship, rather than hinging on a relationship between a man and a woman, normally the tenor and the soprano. Of course the soprano is in the mix there, but it’s an interesting re-alignment; male friendship is valued as highly, if not given a more elevated status, than the conventional male-female love relationship. That’s certainly not the model of standard Italian opera, and it gives this opera its particular tone. Pearl fishing is actually a very dangerous act: people die. That’s why they need continual votive prayers going on for their safety. So underpinning this piece, which as I said is very delicate, there’s this macho element: the men are out there getting the pearls, doing their job to provide for their community. And Nadir is a hunter, you know, going out to bring the food back to the village. Italian operas aren’t built on this kind of male bonding; they are built on hetereosexual attraction. Again, maybe this is why The Pearl Fishers lost popularity for a while. It is unconventional in that respect.

Tell us a little about the two casts you’ve assembled for this production.
We have a number of debutants in this production. Maureen McKay, who’s singing Leïla, and Elizabeth Zharoff, who’s our alternate cast Leïla, are both making Seattle Opera debuts, although both have local connections: Maureen was a Young Artist here, from 2004 through 2006, and Elizabeth was born in Wenatchee, so two nice little homecomings in our two Leïlas. Our two Nadirs are John Tessier, last with us in the Zandra Rhodes Magic Flute and in Fidelio; and Anthony Kalil, making his debut. We have two baritones singing Zurga: Brett Polegato is no stranger to our stage, and Keith Phares was one of the Marcellos in Bohème a few years ago. And our two Nourabads, Jonathan Lemalu and Joo Won Kang, are both making debuts. Jonathan of course I know, not only from New Zealand, but actually I’ve known him for many years indeed when he was just starting out, when he did a wonderful recital for me when I ran the Buxton Festival in 2000. He’s an artist I’ve really enjoyed seeing develop over the years, so it’s very nice to feature him in this production. So it’s a small cast, but we’ve really got two super groups of singers lined up for you, regardless of which night you choose to attend.