If I could be anywhere on January 28 it would be in Madrid at the Teatro Real, for the premiere of Brokeback Mountain, the new opera composed by Charles Wuorinen to a libretto by the author of the original short story, Annie Proulx. I interviewed Wuorinen for Opera News and was happy that he willingly delved into his compositional ideas (composers, frustrated and irritated by journalists, usually talk in cliches and generalities).
It isn’t an obvious idea, to take a story about inarticulate gay cowboys and transpose it into an old and complex musical medium. But Wuorinen found precedent in the history of opera for exactly the musical materials he needed to express the inarticulateness of his characters, especially poor Ennis, who is the more conflicted and closeted of the two men. The composer turned to Arnold Schoenberg:
As Wuorinen developed musical characterization for his cowboys, he turned to Schoenberg’s experimental half-sung, half-spoken Sprechstimme for inspiration. In Schoenberg’s Moses und Aron, Moses laments his “awkward tongue,” his inability to put complex thought into comprehensible words: “Meine Zunge ist ungelenk, ich kann denken, aber nicht reden” [My tongue is awkward, I can think but not speak]. In Brokeback Mountain, says Wuorinen, Ennis “can’t acknowledge who he is, what he is, until too late, when he has lost the one thing he valued.” And so, like Moses, Ennis expresses himself first with a kind of pitched speech, only developing into sung lines in the second of the opera’s two acts. The evolution parallels his capacity for self-expression, though as in Proulx’s original story, this dim awareness becomes explicit to himself only in a final, excruciating, primal realization of loss.
The two central characters are associated with different pitches, B-natural and C-sharp, a whole step apart, yet divided by a third tonal area associated with the mountain itself, based on a low C. “The note between, C-natural, I regard as the note of death,” says Wuorinen, recalling its role at the end of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion and a long history of powerful but now vestigial associations between tones and ideas. This “foundation note for the mountain,” he says, “betokens power and often a certain freedom and peace, and also it is menace.” The two characters, musically close but eternally separated, “converge on this disaster.” The musical presence of the mountain, introduced in the opera’s prelude, distinguishes the stage work from the film, where the setting, while starkly beautiful, was a neutral presence. In the opera, Proulx and Wuorinen develop an almost magical power to the mountain, as if it instigated the love that tortures the two men.
For a taste of how Schoenberg used the voice, listen to this.