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What's Opera, Doc? Part 2. Les Mis.

Something that just doesn't fit in the article but is worth mentioning is that while sometimes conforming to censorship gives very dull results, and sometimes it gives very creative workarounds, very occasionally you get utterly bonkers results.

Like 12-tone minimalist composer Wilfrid Zillig deciding who while writing his opera about Scott of the Antarctic decided to curry favour with the Nazi censors by not only having Oates' sacrifice result in everyone else making it, but also adding a subplot in which they defeat continual attacks by weather-summoning evil penguins. This being to demonstrate the racial superiority of the Anglo-Saxon people. Over penguins.

There are no recordings of this available. It's probably either the penguins or the Nazi propaganda, but I'm not ruling out it being due to the 12-tone minimalism.
 
Curiously, given that the discussion has shifted towards music favoured by the Third Reich,

the sort of gothic medievalism favoured by the Third Reich
The best bit is when you realise Goebbels had to sign off on allowing performances of this.

the next article in the series is @Redolegna discussing Wagner's first performance in Paris.

Due (plans subject to change) on 29 May.
 
not that there wasn’t crossover here – we cannot discount the fact that the mid-20th Century avant garde was dominated by White European Men who were highly dismissive of popular music – Jazz and other ‘African’ styles most especially

A complete nonsense, by the way, as Dvořak and Ravel were very keen on it and used their time in the US (and later contact with the Parisian jazz clubs) to introduce new ideas and style in their music.
 
It does make you think that Orff largely survives in popular culture with Carmina Burana: the sort of gothic medievalism favoured by the Third Reich but that might never have made it to the stage if Weimar had continued to flourish.

Though even there it wasn't the major success of its time that you'd think from the aftermath.

A complete nonsense, by the way, as Dvořak and Ravel were very keen on it and used their time in the US (and later contact with the Parisian jazz clubs) to introduce new ideas and style in their music.

I think it's very telling that the early 20th Century avant garde basically viewed the proto-Jazz styles as American folk music to be used in the same way Grieg or Bartok or Rimsky-Korsakov were using their own native music, whereas the next generation on very much rejected it.

I tend to think of the mid-20th Century of being more the late 30s to 70s- Schoenberg, Stockhausen, Cage etc. mind.
 
Cage etc. mind.

Which reminds me of the round on I'm Sorry, I Haven't a Clue (a radio panel quiz programme of some amusement) in which Willie Rushton, in the round: "The words of one song to the tune of another" (a round in which panellists have to sing the words of one song to the tune of another. Allow me to try and explain this complicated principle. Imagine a song is like a bookshelf, in which the books are the words of the song, making up the lyrical aspect, and the shelves are the tune on which the books - the words - sit. Then imagine replacing the particular books on this shelf with other books, the words of a different collection, creating a new set of lyrics, but these books, lyrics, have to fit in the framework of the original tune or shelves. Now that's simplified things...)

The particular combination here was the words of the Spanish national anthem to the tune of Nick Cage's 4'33"; a rendition which brought the house down.
 
On a more general note, I've always thought it fitting that Les Miserables became the huge operetta in a way that the book became the blockbuster novel of its day.

Oh, I know that the show isn't a patch on the intelligence and humanity of the book, but one of the striking things about Vic Hugo is that he had absolutely no subtlety. That's the heart of his greatness. Some writers draw emotion with a scalpel; Hugo hits you with a hammer. The trick is that he had a wide range of hammers, and was always doing it in the service of a point that had to be made to a bourgeois audience.*

I think that's why the show is more successful than the other attempts at stage and screen adaptations of Les Mis- it's one of those works which is, fundamentally, operatic: the dialogue and emotion makes sense when you sing it.



*Admittedly, that point was occasionally 'eesh, these Bretons.' Looking at you, 93.
 
Hugo hits you with a hammer.
Neatly put.

The trick is that he had a wide range of hammers, and was always doing it in the service of a point that had to be made to a bourgeois audience.
Even more neatly put.

There are passages where I just have water instead of eyes. He is straightforward that he goes straight for your heartstrings, isn't apologetic about it in the least. Valjean's last weeks are pure "well, this person who I have shown you as stoic for the whole novel is gonna make you cry like you've never cried", you see it from a mile off and it's still devastating.

I think he'd heartily approve of the show which does a great job of getting at the essence of the novel, even if, owing to format and time limit, it has to condense some things. So long as he was paid the right amount of royalties from it. He was not one to take it lightly.
 
If you ever get the chance to go to his house in Guernsey I heartily recommend to it. It's an amazing temple to Victor Hugo, built by his greatest disciple, Victor Hugo.

His writing room was at the very top of the house. On a good day, he could sit and see France.
 
If you ever get the chance to go to his house in Guernsey I heartily recommend to it. It's an amazing temple to Victor Hugo, built by his greatest disciple, Victor Hugo.

His writing room was at the very top of the house. On a good day, he could sit and see France.
I've visited the other, his house in Paris and... likewise. It helps that the subject of the cult was very much worthy of being worshipped.
 
I always liked the legend that on the day of the great man’s funeral, the sex workers of Paris stuffed their underwear with black crepe to honour their best client.
 
If you ever get the chance to go to his house in Guernsey I heartily recommend to it. It's an amazing temple to Victor Hugo, built by his greatest disciple, Victor Hugo.

His writing room was at the very top of the house. On a good day, he could sit and see France.
Recently renovated, it is open from April to September (Closed Wednesdays).

You can also see his mistresses house down the road.



I can also recommend a local campsite.


Also he had the correct option on Jersey.
 
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