Some scepticism has been expressed as to my reading of Piazzolla's opera 'Maria de Buenos Aries' as being a metaphor for the rise, fall and rise again of tango. Indeed there was one suggestion that I may have spent too long outside without a hat in the unseasonal sunny weather we are experiencing (*).
"What do we want? The free creation of silver money alongside gold! When do we want it? Now!"
In my defence can I point to another example of the use of artistic metaphor. L. Frank Baum's 'The Wonderful Wizard of Oz' was written as a satire on the presidential campaigns of William Jennings Bryan on a Free Silver platform. The Wicked Witches are the East and West Coast bankers, the Scarecrow represents the farmers who were too stupid to avoid getting into debt, the Tin Man is the industrial workers who didn't have the heart to take action in support of the farmers, and the Cowardly Lion is politicians who were too afraid to intervene. Given that we're speaking of bimetallism the Yellow Brick Road and Silver Shoes need no explanation (**), nor does it need pointing out that Oz is the abbreviation for ounce. I am less persuaded of the idea that Dorothy was meant to be Theodore Roosevelt, which seems to have been put forward on the somewhat tenuous grounds that their names are nearly anagrams (***)
* For those who don't me I am, although it is barely visible to the naked eye, starting to go a bit thin on top.
** I know they were Ruby Slippers in the film, but they were Silver Shoes in the book. The change was made, I believe, to look better in Technicolor.
*** It does, however, allow me to include something tangentially related to wargaming.
And so to the opera. In my recent review of 'Frida' I forgot to mention that it was the first opera I had ever seen which was originally written for an orchestra which included an accordion (*). I have now seen a second, sort of. In fact Astor Piazzolla's 'Maria de Buenos Aries' was written for the bandoneon, but I defy even the most passionate rivet-counter amongst this blog's readership to spot the difference between the noise made by those two things.
That's an accordion
Obscure instrumentation aside this piece - which I really enjoyed - goes straight to the top of the list as the most bonkers storyline for any opera I've ever seen, and that is of course a very high bar, as realism and opera librettos are often strangers to one another. I shall attempt to provide a synopsis:
Maria is born in the slums of Buenos Aries, but, lured in part by her love of tango, escapes poverty by becoming a sex worker.
[So far this is is unremarkable, indeed it could be the backstory to La traviata. This section ends with one of the highlights of the whole thing in which Maria loudly affirms who she is, an which is reminiscent in spirit of the party scene in Verdi's opera. However, things are just about to become weird.]
Maria then falls in love with an accordion and yes, I said accordion not accordionist (**). This proves a transgression too far even for those in the sleazy milieu in which she moves, and so they kill her. However you can't keep a good woman down and so she comes back to life, or possibly reappears as a ghostly spirit; it wasn't terribly clear. For reasons that were also somewhat obscure she is taken down to an underground cabal of psychoanalysts. When she escapes their questions - they don't seem to offer much in the way of therapy - she is pursued through the streets of Buenos Aries by three marionettes (***), who have been hired to impregnate her with their seed. This having occurred she gives birth to herself and yes, I said to herself not by herself.
So, what's it about? The director chose to play up the religious elements (she's called Maria, she rises from the dead) and the queer elements (let's face it, there aren't any, but what opera director has ever let something like that stand in their way?). Despite all that it worked a treat. The playing, singing and dancing were all great and, once one gave up trying to follow what was happening, it was a delightful evening.
The most lucid interpretation that I have subsequently read is that the piece is actually lamenting the decay of tango as a form of music and dance. Having been born in the slums of Buenos Aries, it moved to the mainstream where it was contaminated by the accordion (or perhaps the bandoneon) and other foreign influences; commercialised by the US mainstream (e.g. Hollywood), it was eventually influenced by the Avant-garde and was reborn as nuevo tango, whose prime exponent was none other than Piazzolla himself.
Is this a bandoneon? Actually, I don't think it is:
* Although, for the record, not the first opera I had ever seen which actually included an accordion in the orchestra.
Considering that this is a wargaming blog that's been running for more than nine years, it really hasn't included enough tango. So here's the great Astor Piazzolla:
Wargaming will resume soon; I can feel it in my water.
