Mindfulness: An Attractive

CONSERVATORY

March 18, 2022 Established 1874 Volume 151, Number 15

Il Matrimonio Segreto Talks Class Consciousness, Familial Love

Conservatory vocalists rehearse in Bibbins.

Photo by Photo Editor Abe Frato

Adrienne Sato Senior Staff Writer From March 24–27 in Hall Auditorium, the Oberlin Opera Theater will stage Domenico Cimarosa’s most famous opera, Il Matrimonio Segreto (“The Secret Marriage”), under the direction of Associate Professor of Opera Theater Jonathon Field.

Oberlin Conservatory vocalists, who will sing the piece in its original Italian, are set to perform alongside the Oberlin Orchestra under guest conductor Christopher Larkin. Live supertitles translating the Italian will be available for the audience.

Il Matrimonio Segreto, a drama full of twists, turns, and betrayals, tells the story of a wealthy merchant, Geronimo, who lives with his two daughters, Elisetta and Carolina, and his sister Fidalma. The family’s young secretary Paolino has been secretly married to Carolina for months.

In order to confess their marriage without upsetting her father, Carolina and Paolino hatch a plan to get Count Robinson, a wealthy nobleman, to marry Elisetta. The plan goes awry, however, when Count Robinson shows up and falls in love with the wrong sister, creating a complicated love triangle that only gets trickier as the opera progresses.

Il Matrimonio Segreto was first performed in 1792, which means some of the dialogue and dynamics are unfamiliar to modern American audiences.

“The challenge of an opera — especially the one we’re doing, which is an 18th-century opera — is how to make it relevant to today’s context,” said Conservatory second-year Benhur Ghezehey, who plays Geronimo in the opera.

Ghezehey mentioned that despite some of these disconnects, many of the concepts present in the opera can still apply to modern-day life.

“Even though the opera is 200 years older than us, it’s still a relevant human story because nothing has changed,” he said. “This is the human condition. It’s a lesson for our society how far we have come and how we need to improve.”

Ghezehey also spoke on the difficulties of conveying all of these sides in a way that is true to the character but also in a historically accurate manner.

“How did an 18th-century Italian act?” he asked. “How do they talk? How do they move? … I also see how fathers act because I’m portraying a father. How do fathers act toward their daughters, toward their family? … Acting is inspired by real life as well, and the craft is how you take that real life and blend it with the historical to give something that is both true onstage and can be convincing.”

These questions of how to act in ways that are appropriate to Italian citizens was, among other reasons, a factor that helped Field make the decision to put on Il Matrimonio Segreto.

“I always like to do a piece each year in a foreign language because it really helps train our singers to think and act in a foreign language,” Field said. “We also went with a piece … that young singers could learn from. … It’s a piece that is done by a lot of conservatory-type schools across the country.”

Field also mentioned that the small cast that this opera requires was appealing because they weren’t sure how many singers would be able to perform with the ongoing pandemic.

Ghezehey is excited for the performances and for the audience to experience the silly, dramatic story.

“It’s a very neat, very witty way of storytelling,” he said. “There is a lot of entanglements that come, a lot of confusion, a lot of love. It’s a family comedy. … Whether it’s in the 18th century or the 21st century, it’s the same.”

Field expressed similar sentiments, and emphasized how exciting it was to play dress-up.

“It’s a funny musical piece, and audiences really enjoy it,” he said. “The cast is very enthusiastic about what they’re doing. To see them in these period clothes during the period movement is really going to be very, very exciting. I recommend this one very highly for people to come and see. It’ll be fun.”

For Conservatory second-year Alan Rendzak, the marriage provides a foundation for the unpredictable turns in this wild and comedic opera.

“Il Matrimonio?! The marriage summarizes the many problems to be encountered in this opera buffa,” Rendzak said. “At points it seems nothing works out, but then everything works out only for shit to hit the fan. But hey, you’ll have to come to see if things can be fixed once more.”

Il Matrimonio Segreto will show on March 24–26 at 8 p.m. in Hall Auditorium and finish with a matinee on Sunday, March 27 at 2 p.m. Tickets are available for $10 ($8 for Oberlin students) online, by visiting Central Ticket Service noon to 5 p.m. weekdays, or by calling 800-371-0178.

Mindfulness: An Attractive Invitation for Musicians

Walter Thomas-Patterson Conservatory Editor

I can remember that night quite clearly, for its events are branded into my memory. I was set to perform in a recital of a Beethoven sonata — a piece I had worked on for months — whose opening D-major ascending octaves offer a regal introduction into a quintessential work of Beethoven’s early period.

On the day of the recital, I remember playing the piece over and over again in the practice room, trying to assuage my fear of a memory slip, the one event that would spell disaster for my reputation as an artist and a performer. Just minutes before I was set to perform, I stood backstage trembling with fear, hearing the performer just before me finish her Chopin ballade.

I envisioned what the experience of going up on the stage would be like — there was me, the piano, the audience, the lights, my appearance, and my reputation. I had a Sisyphean task ahead of me. I would have to play to protect what I had; I would have to walk a delicate tightrope.

As I sat down at the piano and began the piece, I could feel the sheen of sweat on my fingertips and an uncontrollable quivering in my knees. I tried to force myself to become engrossed in the music, to just let myself fall into a state of flow, a oneness with the music. But the harder I seemed to push, the harder I asked myself to fall into the flow of the melodies and harmonies and accompaniment, the more quickly a new thought ricocheted inside my head, “When will it happen? When will you have a memory slip, when will you embarrass yourself completely?”

And soon enough, it happened. As that thought reached a crescendo, I froze, having experienced a memory slip that would left me on track to play just a sliver of the piece. What I had so feared was happening in a recital in front of my peers and professors. A voice from the audience murmured, “Start from the beginning.” It was a voice whose timbre I recognized. It was my piano teacher who bore witness to my collapse.

At that moment, as I restarted the sonata, the performance anxiety I had suddenly evaporated, for what was there to be afraid of anymore? In having that memory slip, I had given the audience a piece of my inner me; I showed them I was vulnerable, and for me that was rock bottom, how much lower could I go?

Funnily enough, my performance of the sonata went smoothly from there. It felt like the audience and the piano were within me and there was nothing I could do but give them what I had.

At that point I lacked the insight I have now. After the performance, I remember bursting into fits of uncontrollable sobbing; I imagined the disgust my professors and peers would have at having bore witness to a catastrophic failure.

But in the months after that event, I began a journey toward grasping what music performance truly meant. I began ingratiating myself with the inner workings of my mind, trying to understand how I could train my brain to face the prospect of performance anxiety.

In my journey toward exploring my mind, a journey that is still ongoing, I soon stumbled across the idea of mindfulness, and specifically how it relates to the high-stakes challenge of piano recitals. One of the core concepts of mindfulness theory that I have worked to adopt is the idea of becoming aware of one’s own breathing.

I offer this story to encourage my fellow Conservatory musicians to take advantage of the plethora of Conservatory wellness programs that are offered, including most pressingly, the upcoming mindfulness workshops with conductor, philosopher, and author John Thomas Dodson. As the founder of the Blue Heron Mindfulness Living, he specializes in applying Buddhist mindfulness theories to the art of music performance.

One of the key aspects of his course is the idea of oneness as a performer: “There is no boundary between the fingertip and the piano key, between the breath and the note, between the bow and the string. No longer is there an interior voice commenting on the happenings around us.”

In this present moment, as I reflect back on that memory- slip-laden recital, I see the ways in which the mindfulness Dodson espouses could have helped me as a performer in that moment. I realized I could have washed away the separateness with which I viewed the performance — the piano, the audience, the lights, the reputation — and replaced that perception with a oneness, a oneness that is encapsulated in the power of musical performance to tell a deeply personal story, a story that is naturally imperfect.

Yet reading about such ideas and practices from afar only does you so much good. To actually experience the power of Buddhist mindfulness to enrich you as a performer, you must attend the upcoming sessions offered by John Thomas Dodson on March 20 and 27. I hope to see you there.