There are one or two contradictions
here, about which prospective purchasers
should be warned. This is part of the
Naxos ‘American Opera Classics’ series,
but almost the first thing one reads
in the booklet is that I was looking…
‘is not an opera.’ The notes on
the back of the jewel case do provide
some insights into the piece (‘ranges
in style from gospel and jazz to pop
and rock’), but fans of ‘Nixon in China’
and ‘The Death of Klinghoffer’ should
note – this is nothing like either.
I have found myself
in trouble with Adams before now. Without
a TV guide and by chance switching on
halfway through a TV broadcast of ‘Nixon
in China’, I found myself wondering
who on earth felt they could get away
with such a transparent and overblown
imitation of Philip Glass. Spinning
my old ECM LP of ‘Harmonium’ (De Waart),
I can’t escape hearing a typical Louis
Andriessen cell in the climax, and so
it goes on. Don’t get me wrong, I have
a great respect for Adams, and enjoy
much of his music tremendously. He is
slickly creative and a brilliant craftsman,
but some day I’d just love it if he
was ‘found out’ by someone doing some
proper comparative analyses.
Having laid a few cards
on the table, I have to take ‘I was
looking…’ on its own terms, and
avoid suggesting that it’s an excuse
for Adams to have fun extending his
chameleon palette. The production makes
no bones about its brash Broadway style,
and the programme notes helpfully provide
stylistic pointers in italics at the
end of a short synopsis for each number.
Its compact ‘pit band’ instrumentation
is thickened and given colour with unashamed
use of synthesisers, and the use of
pre-programmed midi drums occasionally
give the tracks a tacky ‘home studio’
feel. The whole thing is based around
seven characters who are all embroiled
in poverty-stricken and sleazy romantic
relationships of one kind or another,
the whole thing being resolved by an
earthquake (tr.2 CD 2 – nice woofer-tester
rumbling, but sounds more like a landslide).
There is some kind of a plot here, but,
other than a few nods toward social
comment the storyline is basically asinine,
and unlikely to be re-told in fervent
undertones in pubs up and down the country.
Adams himself pointed out the connection
to ‘The Threepenny Opera’, and his intention
to present real and ordinary people
in common, or bizarrely improbable situations
is clear.
The American flag which
is the proud logo for this series is
slightly undermined by the clearly German/Austrian
origins of this recording. There is
a cute misprint which sums this up:
‘Song characterised by funk und minimal
music.’ The singers do fairly well
with the ‘Fame’ idiom intended here,
but there are a few fun examples of
mid-European stumbling with libretto:
Jeannette Friedrich (Leila) turns ‘questions’
into ‘kfestions’ (CD1 tr.3), and Lilith
Gardell’s (Tiffany) articulation of
‘how far can I go’ (tr. 7) makes it
sound quite rude - especially since
someone was singing about condoms one
or two numbers before. The text is clear
and easy to follow however, and the
lack of a libretto in the booklet creates
no problems.
This work will appear
in the classical catalogue on the strength
of its composers name alone. For those
who enjoy jazzy, generally upbeat and
funky musical, this will probably offer
a great deal to enjoy – I fear most
‘buffs’ will recoil in horror from the
start. I must admit, as a juke-box of
swingin’ entertainment with a touch
of the minimals it wasn’t quite the
nightmare I expected. I did find myself
longing for a proper sing-along classic
à la Bernstein (there’s
à la just about everyone
else in this work), but no single number
leapt out as having that special ‘hit’
quality. ‘Song about the Sweet Majority
Population of the World’ at the end
of Act I is a case in point. It has
a promising start (a sort of soft ‘Workin’
in a Coal Mine’), which never goes anywhere
– it just goes up and down, meanders
a little, and stops – all intro, no
big tune. I like it, but I won’t be
able to whistle it in the street on
my way to the gig this evening. The
limitations of the instrumentation -
or the performance - are thrown up by
the lack of contrast when a ‘Rock’ style
is attempted in ‘Three Weeks and Still
I’m Outta my Mind’ (beginning of Act
II). Here there is a lack of either
sexy ‘Grease’ style interaction by the
singers or heft and weight behind the
somewhat drippy non-Bon Jovi guitar
sound and the arrangement in general.
There is a claim made for ‘Earthquake
Music’, ‘Aleatoric improvisation
à la Witold Lutosławski
in rock style’ to which
I was looking forward, but alas alack,
I fear poor Luto would have to sue for
misrepresentation – it certainly takes
improvisation no further than Zappa
did. A final reprise of ‘I was looking
at the ceiling...’ wraps everything
up, but while there is a twinge of recollection
at having heard the theme somewhere
before, it only really serves to underline
the lack of genuine impact everywhere
or anywhere else.
Bless Naxos for introducing
this opus into their catalogue. It deserves
a position somewhere, but will be something
of a sleeper on the ‘Opera Section’
shelves in your local shop, ready to
leap out and give you a fright when
you get home. Try before you buy!
Dominy Clements
Young Opera Company Freiburg 
