There have been countless amateur renditions of "Nessun Dorma" on TV talent shows across the world, and this phenomenon perplexes me. How is it that the wider public goes crazy for these performances, but cares little for professional classical music? I cannot believe that so many people who enjoy Paul Pott's "Nessun Dorma" would not enjoy Franco Corelli's.
With little free time to waste, entertainment seekers want guarantees that they'll enjoy themselves. The performances on these shows are commodities that come in packaging as standardized as a Coke's, so we know what we're getting and that we're going to like it, and also that everyone else is getting the same thing. There's a lot of comfort in that. As a result, the question is not whether so-and-so is a competent singer with potential, but whether we were entertained. If the current talent entertained us, as Susan Boyle did for many, then it's ready for mass distribution now, unchanged except for the perfunctory makeover.
Listening based on musical principles comes from a desire to understand music and have a relationship with it. We want to know what a singer's strengths are, how she develops as an artist over time, and what new things her voice may be capable of in the future. We want to know how she uses vocal sound to communicate inarticulable truths. A thoughtful relationship over time with an artist, a style, or even a single work is a necessary part of appreciation for all art, and like all relationships, there may be rough spots, things you don't understand, frustrations. It's not entertaining, but it's infinitely rewarding. The classical music of many cultures requires this commitment.
The point is that as consumers of entertainment, we don't want what classical music is: we want repetition over relationship. When I go see most new science fiction movies, I'm really hoping I get to watch The Matrix for the first time all over again. Should someone criticize technical components of The Matrix, informed by a deep love of and relationship with film as an art form, it matters little to me; I just want my show. Ergo, the opera world isn't scooping up hoards of new "Nessun Dorma" converts because nothing in the enjoyment of that aria on TV has prepares one for a relationship with classical music. It prepares them to watch more TV and buy the CD in stores as a kind of souvenir.
Coda: What is an arts organization to do?
I've long been perplexed that various kinds of classical singing seem so resistant to commercial appropriation. The power of commerce to market anything, combined with the internet's ability to find and mine the most specialized of niches, should be easy to wield for anyone trying to either build a commercially relevant classical music audience or develop and market new music based on classical traditions. Instead, big symphonies struggle to hold onto their (literally) dying base, and virtually no contemporary commercial music makes direct use of true classical technique.
I think the above goes a long way toward showing why. To gather new audiences, we need to convince the uninitiated that a relationship with classical music (and this holds true of many other art forms) is worth the time and effort. Embarrassing Hollywood-style ad campaigns in an attempt to be "relevant" don't do this, and in fact insinuate the opposite: opera can be just as slick and disposable as that trash in the multiplex! Instead, we should focus on activities that invite and allow people to start their own relationship to opera. I recently read of opera singers giving a free concert in a park, only to have their company's next show sell out of tickets. This is a perfect example of preparing an audience: let them decide on their own that live, beautiful and professional singing is something they enjoy, then invite them for more.
Let's stop marketing opera as what it's not, and start showing it for what it truly is. It has nothing to do with Paul Potts on TV; that is about entertainment, and people should be free to entertain themselves however they choose. Real art in music is something that needs and includes you within it, builds a relationship with you, and gives you lifelong nourishment. Let's help more people find that.
For better or worse, American Idol, X-Factor, and [Insert Country]'s Got Talent rule television ratings around the globe. You don't attain that level of success without knowing what you're selling, and this product includes a healthy rotation of unpolished dreamers who dream to perform classical music. This is what I'm talking about. Whether tackling "Nessun Dorma" or a few other purely classical (as opposed to crossover) pieces, the spectacle of amateur classical singers doing their best sells well. Real classical tickets sell poorly.
So how can this be?
Issue #1: "Nessun Dorma" as a moment instead of a piece of music, or, Does Anyone Actually Listen To Paul Potts Sing?
Here's the first obvious thing I missed: "Nessun Dorma" on these shows doesn't lead to stampedes at the opera box office because it is not a performance of opera.
Yes, these shows need good personal interest stories, cathartic moments, triumphs, embarrassments, struggle, heroes, and villains. This sounds exactly like opera, but these components are primarily produced in the TV studio and editing room, not through music itself. The values of classical music--commitment to a beautiful sound, attention to detail, expert control of technique for singers and instrumentalists, etc.--don't really support the needs of entertaining commercial television. Instead we have the familiar camera angles, the shots of judges' faces shifting from skepticism to amazement, and the endless standing ovations of the crowd, all meticulously arranged into a TV segment with the dramatic emotional journey the audience came to see.
Both the live and home audiences get satisfaction, but it's not because of music. If you really care about a musical moment, you don't scream during it; you listen.
Issue #2: Disinterest in musical values, or, Let Me Like What I Like
Everyone who has studied classical singing has experienced this: you board a plane home for Thanksgiving, you mention to your friendly neighboring passenger that you study singing, and now manners dictate that you must pretend to kind of like Josh Groban.
Because we've also experienced this: people become peeved if we say we don't really find these talents that amazing. While we've been holed up in a practice room or music library, most people have learned from commercial music that you like what you like, you get to buy what you like, and those who disagree with you are disparaging your taste, and thus your freedom (to buy). We then emerge from the music academy with several degrees in hand to find that even if people claim to want our opinion on a singer like Potts, direct criticism based on our accumulated knowledge gets branded as "snobby" no matter how delicately it's phrased. Musicians thus learn when to hide the fact that they're educated at all.
The problem here is that when trained musicians judge these talent show performances, they do so relative to musical principles, while the wider audience tends to do so relative to the principles of entertainment commodities. Serious music lovers evaluate whether the musical components came together to produce artistry. The wider audience cares more about whether the moment was exciting, the singer looked impassioned, the high note was surmounted, and the audience overwhelmed--in short, whether they've been watching good TV. My musical critique thus covers principles quite literally irrelevant to most folks' appreciation of a performance, but my dislike of Potts registers and becomes a slam against a moment they enjoyed. It's taken personally.
The problem here is that when trained musicians judge these talent show performances, they do so relative to musical principles, while the wider audience tends to do so relative to the principles of entertainment commodities. Serious music lovers evaluate whether the musical components came together to produce artistry. The wider audience cares more about whether the moment was exciting, the singer looked impassioned, the high note was surmounted, and the audience overwhelmed--in short, whether they've been watching good TV. My musical critique thus covers principles quite literally irrelevant to most folks' appreciation of a performance, but my dislike of Potts registers and becomes a slam against a moment they enjoyed. It's taken personally.
Issue #3: Repetition vs. relationship
With little free time to waste, entertainment seekers want guarantees that they'll enjoy themselves. The performances on these shows are commodities that come in packaging as standardized as a Coke's, so we know what we're getting and that we're going to like it, and also that everyone else is getting the same thing. There's a lot of comfort in that. As a result, the question is not whether so-and-so is a competent singer with potential, but whether we were entertained. If the current talent entertained us, as Susan Boyle did for many, then it's ready for mass distribution now, unchanged except for the perfunctory makeover.
Listening based on musical principles comes from a desire to understand music and have a relationship with it. We want to know what a singer's strengths are, how she develops as an artist over time, and what new things her voice may be capable of in the future. We want to know how she uses vocal sound to communicate inarticulable truths. A thoughtful relationship over time with an artist, a style, or even a single work is a necessary part of appreciation for all art, and like all relationships, there may be rough spots, things you don't understand, frustrations. It's not entertaining, but it's infinitely rewarding. The classical music of many cultures requires this commitment.
The point is that as consumers of entertainment, we don't want what classical music is: we want repetition over relationship. When I go see most new science fiction movies, I'm really hoping I get to watch The Matrix for the first time all over again. Should someone criticize technical components of The Matrix, informed by a deep love of and relationship with film as an art form, it matters little to me; I just want my show. Ergo, the opera world isn't scooping up hoards of new "Nessun Dorma" converts because nothing in the enjoyment of that aria on TV has prepares one for a relationship with classical music. It prepares them to watch more TV and buy the CD in stores as a kind of souvenir.
Coda: What is an arts organization to do?
I've long been perplexed that various kinds of classical singing seem so resistant to commercial appropriation. The power of commerce to market anything, combined with the internet's ability to find and mine the most specialized of niches, should be easy to wield for anyone trying to either build a commercially relevant classical music audience or develop and market new music based on classical traditions. Instead, big symphonies struggle to hold onto their (literally) dying base, and virtually no contemporary commercial music makes direct use of true classical technique.
I think the above goes a long way toward showing why. To gather new audiences, we need to convince the uninitiated that a relationship with classical music (and this holds true of many other art forms) is worth the time and effort. Embarrassing Hollywood-style ad campaigns in an attempt to be "relevant" don't do this, and in fact insinuate the opposite: opera can be just as slick and disposable as that trash in the multiplex! Instead, we should focus on activities that invite and allow people to start their own relationship to opera. I recently read of opera singers giving a free concert in a park, only to have their company's next show sell out of tickets. This is a perfect example of preparing an audience: let them decide on their own that live, beautiful and professional singing is something they enjoy, then invite them for more.
Let's stop marketing opera as what it's not, and start showing it for what it truly is. It has nothing to do with Paul Potts on TV; that is about entertainment, and people should be free to entertain themselves however they choose. Real art in music is something that needs and includes you within it, builds a relationship with you, and gives you lifelong nourishment. Let's help more people find that.
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