Der Bassgeiger zu Wörgl

So, I kind of messed up on that whole posting every Saturday thing. Many apologies.

This one holds a special place in my heart. The theory/history confidant I’ve mentioned before was a bassist, and on one of the many late evenings we spent preparing for our Romantic Period seminar she mentioned this gem from the quill of Michael Haydn. Yes, Haydn. This is Joseph’s kid brother. Technically his first name is Johann, but everyone named their composer child Johann (Pachelbel rant, anyone?). Clearly Michael just wanted some individuality. Which he never got, since he is best remembered as being Joseph’s kid brother. But I digress.

This week’s opera: Der Bassgeiger zu Wörgl
Composer: (Johann) Michael Haydn (1737-1806)
Librettist: Pater Leo Peternader
Date of Composition: c. 1775
Other Remarks: M. Haydn was mostly known for his symphonies and sacred choral music, but every once in awhile he got bored and wrote a Singspiel. (For those not in the know, this is basically the German precursor to a musical - spoken dialogue interspersed with songs and generally in a comic mood) This one is relatively unknown. Granted, most of Michael’s works are relatively unknown, but that’s beside the point. The title translates to “The Bassist of Wörgl,” and, like the vast majority of string bassists, this bassist’s story focuses on being drunk. Now, a word of warning before we get farther into the plot: the one and only synopsis I ever found for this work was in German, which may have contributed to some of the hilarity encountered. Still, what doesn’t change in translation is the fact that an 18th century virtually-unknown composer basically wrote a sitcom-opera about a drunk guy who happens to play bass. And y’all should be thanking me - this will be the first synopsis I know of in English. You’re welcome.

Our story opens with Bartl, the aforementioned bassist, coming home drunk one night.

 Yes, he brings his bass out drinking.

His wife, Liesl, does not take kindly to him being drunk, again, and won’t unlock the door. Bartl is apparently very upset by this, and wails that she is mean and he is going to go drown himself in the river.

Presumably the bass is off somewhere pretending not to know Bartl.

Liesl, the loving wife that she is, runs out to find and stop him. HOWEVER Bartl is secretly a very devious drunk bassist, and snuck into the house while she was out searching the river. Now the tables have turned and he’s locked her out of the house! Liesl gets back and tries to get in the house, but Bartl won’t let her in until she promises to stop nagging him about his Trinkfreudigkeit, which I originally translated as “drunken happy time” but I’ve since learned means alcoholism. I like my translation better.

She's so angry that she's misplaced her nose!

Moral of the story: Always carry housekeys.

L'Heure Espagnole

It's Saturday!
Do you know what that means?

Well, no, you don’t, because I haven’t said. But, it’s my intention to make weekly updates on Saturdays. So, that’s right! It’s time for another round of Sleep Deprivation Opera Plots! This is an opera I heard a few years ago at a conference and I’ve always thought that it was just begging for Sleep-Deprivation treatment.

This week’s opera: L’Heure Espagnole
Composer: Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Librettist: Maurice Étienne Legrand, writing as Franc-Nohain
Date of Composition: 1907-1911

The opera opens with Torquemada, a Spanish clockmaker (does the title make sense now?) just kind of chilling in his shop when Ramiro, a muleteer (yes, he drives mules) comes in to have his watch repaired. Naturally, as Torquemada is a clockmaker.

Clocks! Clocks everywhere! And no, I haven't got a clue what's up with Ramiro's outfit. Maybe muleteers just have really poor fashion sense.

However, as he begins to work on the watch his wife, Concepcion, comes down the stairs and reminds him that he needs to go make sure that all of the clocks in town are regulated.

Concepcion likes to wear ballgowns at home. And if I were her I'd be getting really sick of all these clocks reading different times.

Torquemada runs out, asking Ramiro to wait, while Concepcion, who is expecting a few suitors, tries to figure out how to get Ramiro to leave so she can have some…*ahem* fun. She finally decides to ask Ramiro to take one of the two big grandfather clocks in the shop into her bedroom. She’s always wanted a clock. Ramiro leaves just as one of her suitors, Gonzalve, arrives.

Look at that upper body strength and extreme nonchalance!

But Gonzalve just wants to speak sweet nothings to her. Concepcion thinks that’s great, but seriously, just forget the freaking poetry and let’s get it on, okay? She shoves Gonzalve into the other clock to hide when Ramiro comes back and asks him to switch the two clocks. Ramiro apparently has no problem with this, and Concepcion is kind of turned on by the fact that he can carry heavy clocks with people hiding inside of them without complaining. Lo and behold, yet another suitor, Don Inigo, shows up and tries to start something with Concepcion, who is still too taken with Ramiro to really notice. She goes with Ramiro when he takes the clock with Gonzalve in it to her bedroom, and Don Inigo decides it would be a splendid idea to hide in the empty clock that Ramiro just took back into the shop. Without realizing it, Ramiro returns to take Don Inigo’s clock into Concepcion’s room. She is really impressed by this point, and basically says “to hell with those losers!” and she and Ramiro…have fun.

Torquemada returns! \o/ and Gonzalve and Don Inigo make their way out of the clocks. When asked what they’re doing there, both men are like, “uhhhhhhhh….I want to buy this clock!” which leaves Concepcion once again without a clock in her room.

It's Blue Shirt Day here at Torquemada's Clocks., and Torquemada is not amused.

Not that she cares. She’s a tad preoccupied. The opera ends with a moral like one of those cheesy Saturday morning cartoons that tells you not to lie or to always do your chores or something of the like. However, no one told Ravel about morals, because the moral of this story is basically Ramiro is really hot because he can carry heavy clocks and let’s go have sex.

Yeah…the French are kind of weird.