Last night I went to the Canadian Opera Company’s production of Nixon in China by American composer John Adams. It was a great night. I had been trying to get some friends together to see it, but it was a challenge because of family commitments, the upcoming reading week and the associated travel plans, etc. So I was becoming resigned to seeing it on my own. At the last minute, however, my dear friend and sometimes collaborator on projects, Joey Coleman, sent me an email that his plans for Friday night had fallen through – someone had taken ill and he had an extra ticket! Well, I am not one to seek benefit from the misfortune of another, but I figured that it would be a shame for the ticket to go to waste. So we got into my trusty GLK and drove into Toronto, getting there well ahead of the start of the performance. Driving to the COC is a joy as there is ample parking directly beneath the Four Seasons Centre for the Arts. I quite enjoy being able to leave my coat in the car and saunter up unencumbered to the hall.
The performance was splendid. The opera successfully captured the conflicted nature of the relationship between Nixon and Mao Ze Dong. The arias were incredibly engaging and moving. It made me think that the operatic medium is perfect for capturing the richly textured emotional and social landscape of the world of politics and international diplomacy. The characters came to life through song and feeling, and the special connection one has to characters in the Opera – that direct, emotional connection that bypasses reason and rationality – made the characters seem fully three-dimensional in a way that a movie could never achieve. Film is a limiting medium – it is as though you are viewing nature through the windshield of a car or the window of a bus, instead of experience it by walking through it. Opera gives you the feeling of “being there”, of interacting with the characters. A great set, such as that of the COC’s production, is evocative of reality. It makes you feel a direct connection to the scene, a sonic and visual experience that immerses you in the reality being created by the actors, the orchestra and the staging. It is an illusion which is far closer to reality than any other medium can achieve because it keys into our emotional intelligence, rather than appealing to our love of form and structure. What a pleasure that is. A great opera blends the familiar and the usual – in the case of Nixon in China, floating televisions playing news clips from the coverage of the actual event. It lets us into the minds of the characters and lets us see their own profoundly emotional reactions to the familiar things we see on the hanging TVs. It was so well done that I didn’t want it to end. We need more operas about the things that we know. Having them will elevate the often literal qualities of newsmedia coverage to the level of grand storytelling, of mythology and immersion in our history. The Greeks used to say that you are best remembered when others sign of your exploits. We need to sing of our history in the Opera far more often. Which composer is up for the challenge?