Rossini is one of my favorite opera composers. Who can resist his comedies? Last night by comparison, I watched Rossini’s Moise et Pharaon, a distinctly religious work and quite different from the comedies. The DVD I watched is of a La Scala production of the opera conducted by Ricardo Muti. The story is of Moses trying to get the Pharaoh to let the Jews leave Egypt. There is thrown in for good measure an improbably love story between the Pharaoh’s son and the niece of Moses. At least the love story provides opportunity for some fine duets.
There is the obligatory ballet, as this work was prepared for the Paris stage and they demanded a ballet in the third act–probably because by that time the audience was sufficiently inebriated as to need relief from serious stuff and more singing.
As you would expect, there is conflict between the ideals of Isis & Osiris versus Jehova. Much darkening of the sky, plague, and opening and closing seas done to impressive stage effect. The production I watched places a very Catholic organ at stage center in the first act. You are confused about whose religion is being sung about: Isis, Jehova, or Jesus. Is the opera a celebration of paganism, Judaism, or Catholocism? Moses makes a pretty fine case that his very angry god is top dog and can perform all sorts of nasty things to the Isis followers, including their final drowning in the fake waves of the Red Sea.
The high priest of the Egyptians very much reminded me of the brimstone and hell fellow who preached to us in a tiny Anglican Church in Springs, South Africa. His certainty that his gods were better than other people’s gods was impressive and indeed scary. He maintained this conviction to include exclusion of all Blacks from his Church. This rather nasty attitude was what first set me questioning the convictions of the followers of Henry VIII. My mother veritably worship this nasty priest and threatened to have me excommunicated when I sent some money to Desmond Tutu, newly elected bishop in Cape Town.
Another religious act this weekend was to listen to Philippe Jaroussky on his new CD Stabat Mater. This CD is a collection of motets to the Virgin Mary. Stabat Mater refers to Mary standing at the cross, grieving for her son, now crucified. All Catholic in origin; but who can resist these words, sung in Latin:
Ave Regina coelurum (Hail, Queen of the heavens)
Ave domina angelorum (Hail, mistress of the angels)
Salve radix, salve porta (Salvation/greetings origins and gateway)
Ex qua mundo lux est orta (through which light is risen on the world)
Gaude Virgo gloriosa (rejoice glorious virgin)
Super omnes speciosa (beautiful above all others)
Vale o valde decora (hail most noble)
Et pro nobis Christum exora (and pray to Christ for us.)
Or the words of the Stabat Mater itself:
Stabat Mater dolorosa/ Justa crucem lacrimosa/ Dum pendebat filius.
(The grieveing mother weeping besides the cross where her son was hanging. )
Daniel J Levitin in The World in Six Songs devotes a full chapter to music in religion. I reread this chapter which ends with a discussion of the question: If God is so great that he created the entire universe, why would he care whether we praise him or not—why would such a powerful being be so phychologically needy that he wants us to sing to him?
Levitin’s answer “He is not vain, He doesn’t need us to tell Him He is great. But because He designed us, He knows what we need. He dictated that we should sing songs of religion and belief because He knows they help us to remember; they motivate us; and they bring us closer to Him. He knows that they are what we need. ”
