Women in operas can't resist a rake

 

Jessica Duchen
Friday 16 March 2012 01:00 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Things do not look good for Anne Truelove. "No word from Tom," she sings, while her beloved vanishes to London, led astray by the sinister Nick Shadow. That is just the start of her problems. Stravinsky's neoclassical masterpiece, The Rake's Progress, concludes with a heartbreaking scene in which Anne sings her Tom a lullaby as he dies by inches in the lunatic asylum of Bedlam.

What does Anne see in this wastrel anyway? David McVicar's new production for Scottish Opera – the company's first staging of the work for 40 years – will no doubt offer insights of its own. But in general, women in operas do love their rakes too much. From Monteverdi's Renaissance glories onwards, through centuries of operatic drama, it's not the devil who gets the best tunes: it's the cads, the bounders, the nogoodniks.

They cause heartbreak at best, multiple deaths at worst. Some redeem themselves musically, like Monteverdi's Nero in L'incoronazione di Poppea. Having murdered and executed in order to secure a throne for his mistress, he finally sings with her such a heavenly duet that we forgive them everything.

The Duke of Mantua in Rigoletto is awarded one of Verdi's most memorable melodies – and he gets away with everything too, blithely unaware that the heroine has given her life to save his, while he sashays on towards his next victim. Typical tenor, some would say.

What may explain the appeal of stage rakes is that we see their human frailties, which inspires composers to greater heights than a bland, single-faceted hero could. Wotan of Wagner's Ring Cycle is the ultimate example.

'The Rake's Progress', Theatre Royal,Glasgow, 17 to 25 March (www.scottishopera.org.uk)

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in