In the fall of 1998, I embarked on a journey that would change my life. I was searching for a way to create more performing opportunities, and met with my mentor and friend Connie Barnett. Sitting in our booth at a Manhattan diner, Connie suggested something that seemed so far-fetched at the time that I laughed.
“Are you serious, Connie? Actually have a piece created for me?”
I was incredulous, but intrigued, and somewhere my inner singer was sitting up and taking notice.
Finding inspiration
After lunch with Connie was over, my mind was spinning. Connie counseled me to take one step at a time, and to focus on finding a text or character that inspired me. I began to consider what kind of material would interest me and make for good drama. I wanted a character that would bring out a variety of colors in my voice as well as a compelling range of moods on the stage. I combed my shelves for an American subject, in the hope that it might expand the possibilities for funding with certain agencies and foundations.
When I reread Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter, I knew that Hester Prynne was exactly right. Hester is a multidimensional figure many consider to be the first truly feminist heroine in an American novel. I knew that her particular kind of strength and nobility made her distinct from other operatic heroines. She is, after all, a wife, lover, and single-working mother who endures the harsh punishment of her community—and ultimately prevails through her great strength of spirit. My passion about Hester, and my conviction that a musical treatment centered on her could be intensely powerful, seemed to draw people to the project throughout its development, often to my amazement.
Refining the idea
Now that I had chosen a heroine, I had to get down to brass tacks. To succeed, the goal had to be practical. The piece, therefore, had to be portable, and ideally, it would expand and contract to fit different venues and budgets.
I also wondered how to create a one-woman show out of a novel with four major characters. Hawthorne doesn’t make it easy, because Hester speaks in only a handful of moments in the story. Primarily, we discover her through narrative passages. So the question became: How do we create a fuller voice for Hester while staying true to the spirit of Hawthorne?
Selecting a librettist
I had already determined that using Hawthorne’s words from the novel wouldn’t work. I spoke to my family, wondered if my parents (who are both writers) could conjure up Hester, and generally wracked my brain for ideas. It was my husband who recalled the work of our friend Terry Quinn in adapting another literary work for the stage. Terry is an accomplished novelist, playwright and poet, who has written musical theatre pieces. But would an opera libretto interest him? And would he be drawn to Hester?
We met on the Upper West Side of Manhattan—again at a diner—and I shared with him my affinity for Hester. He agreed to see if he could find an angle that would bring Hawthorne’s most celebrated heroine out of the dimness of our memories of English class and give her new life.
“I smiled to myself when my friend Elizabeth Dabney asked if I would reread The Scarlet Letter,” Terry recalls. “All I’d done in high school was to scan what I now know is an astounding masterwork—and one that, in my opinion, doesn’t at all lend itself to adaptation. Instead, I presumed to extend Hawthorne’s storyline and to dramatize the last moments of Hester Prynne’s life.”
About a month after our first meeting, Terry handed me a draft of Hester Prynne at Death. He had conceived of a brilliant way to give Hester a new voice while honoring Hawthorne’s tone. The libretto was marvelous—powerful and tight, with a broad range of emotions to play.
Find a composer
I felt that a composer who was skilled in opera, as well as steeped in the church music tradition, could musically balance Hester’s compelling richness as a human being with the overwhelming pressure of her Puritan surroundings. I was acquainted with Stephen Paulus’ music, and felt that with seven operas under his belt (now nine), as well as numerous church pieces, he had the unique combination of qualities I hoped for. In addition, several friends of mine had raved about working with him.
I decided to give it a whirl and mailed Paulus a cold submission of my materials, and a CD demo, along with the libretto. Of course, Stephen did not know me, and I had little to go on but foolish optimism.
Weeks went by. A month. Two. Suddenly, an email arrived from his assistant, letting me know that Paulus was coming to New York and would be willing to meet. I figured I’d have 30 minutes to make my pitch—maybe 35. To my amazement, our meeting lasted three hours, and I went away with a sense that if many things fell into place, we had our composer.
“One of the interesting things about our ‘Hester’ project is that I was contacted ‘out of the blue’ by Elizabeth Dabney,” Paulus recalls. “What I found so impressive about working with Elizabeth is that she had a vision of what she wanted accomplished and a definite plan to reach a successful conclusion. She selected the subject matter (and lead character to play), the librettist, the composer and pursued the whole thing with a wonderful dedication.”
What do you mean, ‘fundraising’?
This is the point at which I was in the proverbial woods without a map. Now what?
Well, it turns out that now is when you roll up your sleeves and start brainstorming about how to raise tens of thousands of dollars to make it happen. We had to be able to pay our composer, for starters. I had found out that a commissioning organization would have to pay a composer of Stephen Paulus’ reputation between $1,000 to $2,000 per minute of written music, depending on the size and scope of the piece. The librettist usually gets somewhere between a quarter to a half of the composer’s fee.
Trying to find an organization that could offer that kind of support was a tall order. For many months, I took a stab at something I had no experience in: fundraising. I met with Connie, Terry and Stephen, and we gradually came up with a list of organizations and individuals to contact. I wrote the Hawthorne Society and libraries that had extensive Hawthorne collections, did Web searches, called heads of foundations, and plugged away. Terry plunged ahead as well.
After a while we realized it would help if we had a bit of music to show people. We all felt that a musical sample was essential to interest potential donors in helping to create the entire work. Meanwhile, Stephen was buried in commissions, and we had to wait for an opportune moment for him to focus on what was at this point still an unfunded, germinating idea.
In July of 2000, Stephen called and told me he had written “Lullaby for Pearl,” which was in the exact mid-point of the libretto and a moment of relief from the anguish of the parts that precede and follow it. At this point—through some investigative work, as well as lucky coincidence—our project fortunately came to the attention of an organization dedicated to promoting new music: Meet The Composer.
In August, at a spacious apartment reserved for Juilliard VIPs, we met Heather Hitchens, general director of Meet the Composer, and Catherine Cochran, who at the time was working with Heather on the New Music, New Donors initiative at MTC. We had agreed on a read-through of the aria. I stood peering at the handwritten manuscript, while Terry Quinn and the two women sat in front of a window with a spectacular panoramic view, eagerly awaiting the unveiling of this first musical creation of Hester. Stephen sat at the piano, alternately singing the vocal line and dryly making fun of his singing, while we sat in rapt attention.
This read-through proved to be a critical juncture in our burgeoning relationship with Meet The Composer. It was decided that “Lullaby for Pearl” would be featured in an event designed to promote the work as part of the New Music, New Donors program later that fall. The tragic events of Sept. 11 had us all in shock, but we carried on nevertheless with a meeting scheduled a few days afterward.
Harold Augenbraum, of the Mercantile Library in New York City, a friend of Terry’s, had offered the support of his organization in developing the piece, and to host the meeting. The mood was somber, almost faltering, until Terry gave voice to our collective grief and we were able to continue.
On Nov. 8, 2001 Meet The Composer sponsored a preview of Hester Prynne at Death, graciously hosted by Henry Guettel and Mary Rodgers Guettel. Stephen Paulus played “Lullaby for Pearl” on Richard Rodgers’ historic piano for a small invited audience. Talented actors read the libretto and the evening concluded with an extensive Q and A.
The night was truly magical. That night, Hanna Gaifman, director of the Tisch Center for the Arts at the 92nd Street Y, expressed her interest in the work. Her enthusiasm, and that of her colleague, David Yezzi, director of the Unterberg Poetry Center at the Y, ultimately brought our potentially funded piece a potential premiere venue. After the extraordinary evening at the Guettel’s, Yezzi came to an open rehearsal of “Lullaby” to hear the music and learn more about the project. He was also interested in the possibility of a performance at the Y.
At this point, it is fair to say the tide had turned. A piece that once had been a mere dream seemed to be slowly emerging from the ether. We didn’t know yet if Meet The Composer would fund the piece, but it seemed possible that it might. We didn’t know if it would premiere at Kaufmann Concert Hall at the 92nd Street Y, but it was no longer inconceivable.
In the upcoming months we pushed forward on all fronts. Meet The Composer sponsored another preview of the project in conjunction with the CUNY Graduate Center in January 2002. This event was aimed at a slightly different audience—primarily other potential producers. Then, in April, a similar performance followed for an audience of tenth-graders from a New York City private school. We wanted to see if “Hester” could engage a young audience and have real educational possibilities.
The event was a resounding success, and in June 2002 David Yezzi invited us to present the existing aria and entire libretto for a mostly Spanish-speaking audience at the Union Settlement Association.This was possibly the most openly appreciative audience yet, and we were all touched by the ease with which they connected with the plight of Hester Prynne in spite of the language barrier.
A new piece emerges
The crucial development in the early spring of 2002 was the news from Heather Hitchens at MTC that we had all been hoping for—major funding had been secured for the completion of the music. We were absolutely thrilled, and now it made sense for us to talk to people who might actually take part in the next phase of the project.
Director Ben Levit and conductor Gary Fagin had both attended one of our preview events, and had been drawn to the material. At this time, I also recorded “Lullaby for Pearl” to use as a tool to interest potential producers and funders. I gathered materials together and continued, with Terry and Stephen, to reach out to people who might be able to offer advice or support.
At this point in the process, it became clear that now that the commission had been secured for our composer and librettist, I needed to make sure that I would be able to reap the benefit of helping to create the piece, by assuring that I would be able to perform it for some time. Stephen mentioned that he had agreed on exclusivity contracts with other performers, and was happy to agree to a three-year period from the first full premiere. We figured that length of time would give me a chance to perform and record the role, as well as get paid to perform it.
We reached another milestone in the fall of 2002 when we got word of a wonderful development opportunity through the 92nd Street Y that would help prepare the piece for a world premiere at Kaufmann Concert Hall. The Appalachian Summer Festival in Boone, N.C. fosters something increasingly rare in the musical world: a forum in which to try new material for an audience while it is still in the process of unfolding. Festival Director Gil Morgenstern, a long time champion of interdisciplinary programming, puts together a rich montage of new work every summer in July. He had become interested in presenting a workshop production of “Hester” in the summer of 2003, and we were thrilled with this extraordinary opportunity to put the piece together under the auspices of his festival.
A performance date of July 15 was set, and Stephen was now under the gun to turn his attention from his numerous other commissions to this one. We waited for the moment to arrive. Stephen unveiled each of the remaining six sections of the piece in the spring of 2003. He was very conscious of trying to leave me sufficient time to learn and get the music into my voice. I had ample time for two movements, and about two weeks for the last one (still a reasonable amount of time in comparison to many composers), and began the joyous process of delving into a new work.
My longtime coach, Daniel Ragone, and I had many sessions carefully preparing the material. It was a thrill to uncover this music for the first time, and completely unlike approaching any standard repertoire. I was having a kind of intimacy with the character that is harder to feel when you are treading on the hallowed ground of countless singers before you.
Stephen’s setting of Hester Prynne at Death proved to be more dramatic than I could have imagined, leaving me a great range of emotions and colors to bring out. The music fit me like a glove.
“I was able to write for Elizabeth’s strengths, and create some challenges as well,” Stephen explains.
The arias perfectly evoke the richness of Hawthorne’s character and Terry’s powerful language.
When I packed up my score and headed to Boone for six days, the artistic environment surpassed my expectations. Gil Morgenstern had assembled a wonderful group
of instrumentalists and had collaborated with David Craig Starkey of the Asheville Lyric Opera to provide the vocal ensemble. Knowing that we would be rehearsing for only a few days, David had undertaken to prepare the singers, and the level of their preparation impressed us all. At our first read-through of the piece, I felt overwhelmed by the beauty of the work, and felt moved to have arrived at that point with the project.
…But what is it?
Over the next few days, Stephen came to a realization. We were rehearsing, and he suddenly announced, “I didn’t realize it at the time, but this is an opera. I’ve just unwittingly written my ninth opera.”
The room erupted in laughter as Stephen made this humorous admission. For some time, Stephen, Terry and I had gone back and forth about how to categorize “Hester.” Stephen had previously been uncomfortable calling it a chamber opera, and had suggested calling it a dramatic song cycle. Terry and I preferred calling it a chamber opera, because we felt it would create a broader range of performing opportunities. Stephen enjoyed mentioning that if someone wanted to perform it, they could call it whatever they wanted. Terry suggested dubbing it a music drama, which we agreed on, as a kind of compromise. Periodically, we would revisit the issue. At last, in the midst of rehearsal, the inherent drama of the work was plain, and Stephen blurted out his belief that it was a chamber opera.
Over the next four days, we put the opera together. Gary Fagin ran the rehearsals brilliantly, and inspired all of us to give our best under his clear, secure conducting. Ben Levit gave the production a striking look, while tailoring his ideas to the unusual concept of having the audience on the stage with the performers.
Working towards a world premiere
The workshop culminated in a fine performance, and we left Boone feeling a bit as though it had been a dream. Then we all looked toward the world premiere at the 92nd Street Y on March 8, 2004. In the intervening months we secured a superb group of musicians, along with the road-trip of the vocal ensemble from Asheville and a soprano who joined the chorus from Minnesota.
The planning with the team at the Y went very smoothly, especially in light of the relative complexity of the production. Two women from the Media Relations Department at the Y worked tirelessly to great effect on the publicity. Stephen, Terry and I were delighted to be invited to be interviewed on Sound Check, the New York City radio show hosted by John Schaefer. After being interviewed for a few minutes, I stood up and sang an aria with Warren Jones’ stunning sound coming from the piano. Only when we were leaving the building did I let on that I’d never before done live radio.
We had three rehearsals at the Y prior to the Monday night premiere. With that kind of time frame, pacing is paramount, so I had to plan carefully the amount and intensity of singing ahead. I had decided to go to a hotel near the Y on Friday so that I would be able to be very focused for the short rehearsal period. Thursday afternoon at our home in Brooklyn, I noticed my younger daughter sniffling. My husband and I looked at each other. “That’s it,” he said, “You’re going now.” So I grabbed my gown and all the necessary accoutrements, and climbed into a cab.
The next morning, the mood from the whole team was concentrated and positive. Rehearsing in Kaufmann Hall, with its remarkable combination of size, warmth and intimacy, I was keenly aware that we were on the brink of releasing this wonderful new piece to the world. I savored every moment of rehearsal and the Monday afternoon dress.
The performance itself was a perfect evening—music, drama and text united in a synergy of performers and audience. The feeling in the hall was hushed and the feedback afterwards was tremendous.
We were fortunate to have substantial press coverage in the New York Times, as well as favorable reviews in Opera News Online and the Newark Star Ledger.
A vibrant future
Hester Prynne at Death is now on its way to a life well beyond the scope of our initial project. My agent, Ludwig Brunner, has been enormously helpful in spreading the word about “Hester” to opera companies, festivals and performing arts series around the country. Together we have mailed many marketing packets out to the musical world, and my collaborators are busy talking with the people they know from the opera and theatrical world as well. The prospect of a European premiere of “Hester” at the Wiener Kammeroper in Austria is particularly exciting.
With these and other performances, both here and abroad, as well as a studio recording in the works, we have much to look forward to. But the project has been fulfilling and inspiring on its own, regardless of performances yet to come. There was an organic quality to the process. I think some of this is due to the rightness of the material for me and for my collaborators. Some of it is due to hard work, and some I chalk up to good timing and luck. I am grateful for the marvelous adventure that it has provided me.
Terry Quinn. has written two novels and a biography. Nine of his dramas and music theater works have been produced in New York, London, Paris, Moscow and Vienna, including two plays he co-authored with the late George Plimpton: One Sunday at the Fitzgeralds, starring Lee Grant and Timothy Hutton, and Zelda, Scott and Ernest, with Norman Mailer and Norris Church Mailer. Mr. Quinn’s dramatic dialogue Dear Bunny, Dear Volodya: The Friendship and the Feud, published in The Paris Review, has enjoyed 20 productions to date in the United States and Europe.
Stephen Paulus’ prolific output of more than 200 works is represented in many genres, including music for orchestra, chorus, chamber ensembles, solo voice, keyboard and opera. He has received commissions from the New York Philharmonic, Cleveland Orchestra, Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, Minnesota Orchestra, Dallas Symphony Orchestra, The Houston Symphony and St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, with subsequent performances coming from the orchestras of Los Angeles, Philadelphia,
St. Louis, the National Symphony Orchestra and the BBC Radio Orchestra. Paulus has been commissioned to write works for some of the world’s great solo artists, including Thomas Hampson, Håkan Hagegård, and Doc Severinsen.
