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I Have a Song to Sing, O! By
FRANK BEHRENS Shakespeare’s
solution to this problem was to make the dialogue of the inner play sound
old fashioned and clunky relative to the speech of the “real” characters.
In musical work, opera or musical comedy or whatever, most of the songs
are supposed to be extensions of the spoken dialogue (as in “The Magic
Flute” or “The Mikado) or as emotional highlights in a work in which all
the lines are sung. But now and then, the plot requires that a “song”
be sung as a song and not as dialogue. How to deal with this? Mozart
had this problem in “Le Nozze di Figaro” when Cherubino is asked to sing
his ditty to the Countess. Of course, these characters do nothing but
singing—so how to make the song sound like a song rather than the
sung-dialogue that is the very nature of opera? The best even Mozart could
do is make the orchestra sound like the guitar that Suzanna usually makes
believe she is playing while Cherubino warbles away. Very
early into Act I of Rossini’s “Il Barbieri di Seviglia,” the Count must
sing a serenade; and again, he is provided with a guitar that he should
actually play if he can while vocalizing. In the third act, Rosina has
a music lesson, and it is the context that makes it sound like the character
is engaged in a song. In
Wagner, two examples of “songs” that have to sound like songs and not
part of the opera that contains them are the hymn to Venus and the contest
songs in “Tannhauser” and the “Prize Song” in “Die Meistersinger.” The
first has a lute accompaniment, while the latter example is simply more
melodic than is the rest of the score. When
Brander and afterward Mephistopheles are asked to sing a song in both
Gounod’s “Faust” and Berlioz’ “Damnation of Faust,” the former obliges
with his Song of the Rat (curtailed in the Gounod version) and the devil
delivers the Song of the Golden Calf in Gounod and the Song of the Flea
in Berlioz. Somehow, all four do sound like songs, despite the fact that
everything up to then has been sung. The same is true about the serenade
that the Devil sings in both versions, as well as Gretchen’s Spinning
Song. It might be psychological, but they do somehow sound different from
the other numbers. The
reason, perhaps, that so many musical comedies are concerned with a troupe
putting on a show is that there is lots of occasion for a song to be thrown
in as part of the show within the show and therefore needing no motivation
for its appearance. The question for a discerning composer is how to make
the song sound as if it is not part of the framing plot but part of the
show-within-the-show. In “Pajama Game,” the song “Too darn hot” takes place during a show
given by the pajama workers, while “Hernando’s Hideaway” is part of the
main plot. I hear little difference between them. “There’s no business
like show business” might be part of Buffalo Bill’s show in “Annie Get
Your Gun” or might be an expression of joy or an explanation of what life
is like in show business. The last choice is the true one, but out of
context it is impossible to tell. Take
as a last case in point “Guys and Dolls.” “Bushel and a peck” is sung
by the chorus on a stage, while “Sue me” is part of the plot. The latter
is more dramatic, the former more four-square. Even one unfamiliar with
the show could tell which is a main plot, which a show-in-a-show number.
But this is quite rare in musical comedy—and indeed even rarer in
opera. A
composer in my area wrote the music, lyrics and book to a musical. The
second act began with the full cast on stage and someone saying to one
of the leads, “Why don’t you sing us a song?” Well, further experience
will surely have him avoid such a sledgehammer cue. On the other hand,
it was the best musical moment in the work. I
wonder if anyone of my readers could give me some examples of “songs”
within musicals that are unquestioningly songs being sung as opposed to
plot songs that the audience assumes are being spoken in singing voice
with an invisible orchestra playing. |