I have two conflicting passions: cookies and running. My life pursuit seems to be trying to find the appropriate balance of the two—both for my waistline and my health. So, while it may seem ironic that I was listening to a podcast about cooking and food while running, it was really very apropos.
On this podcast Radio West’s Doug Fabrizio interviewed the New Yorker’s Adam Gopnik about his latest book, The Table Comes First. Gopnik spoke passionately about French cuisine and its influence on our modern day obsession with food. Toward the end of the show, a female caller, after praising Gopnik for his obvious zeal for food, hesitantly confessed that with three young children at home, she absolutely hated mealtime. She spoke about her deep distaste of food with all of the same passion that Gopnik exuded as he spoke of reading cookbooks late at night and making beef stroganoff at his mother’s side. Both were equally passionate about food, just in very different ways.
Passion. It’s a word that gets thrown around a lot in the arts. Opera is full of it. Every artist needs it to succeed. But what is passion, really?
The dictionary defines passion as strong emotion. A quick glance through synonyms in a thesaurus reveals words such as affection, agony, anger, ardor, dedication, distress, eagerness, ecstasy, fury, indignation, ire, joy, misery, rage, rapture, suffering, and zeal! For every positive, happy emotion there is its negative opposite—and all of these emotions can fuel passion.
This idea of opposition is nothing new. The yin and yang of the Chinese tradition emphasizes it. The comedy and tragedy masks now ubiquitous in the theatre trace back to ancient Greece. And it is precisely this opposition that is so important—especially in our journey as artists. If we know the bitter, we can better appreciate the sweet. The deeper our pain, the sweeter our joy. As we experience opposing emotions, it makes each one more real, more vibrant, more tangible, and more heartfelt. And with deeper emotion, we can experience deeper passion.
In an era when we are encouraged to find ourselves and our “callings,” passion is most often used as something desirable that will lead to greater fulfillment. Yet, the root of the word traces back to the Latin pati, which means suffering. If finding real passion comes at such a cost, why is it so important in the first place?
Simply put, emotions motivate us to do. They motivate us to act. They motivate us to perform. And, yes, for artists those last two apply as much to off the stage as to on it.
Mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe has long been known for her passionate portrayals on the stage. Now her passion for American art song has led her to create a new program to help singers find and develop their own love for the genre (p. 26). Pianist Alan Smith, who partners with Blythe at the festival each fall, joined her to discuss these passions with auditors at the 2015 program (p. 36).
Also featured in this issue are many of the hundreds of summer programs, led by passionate administrators and faculty members who work tirelessly to help singers succeed. Read about the Musiktheater Bavaria in Germany (p. 42), the Centre for Opera Studies in Italy (p. 48), and the Art Song Festival in Ohio. And check out the Summer Program Directory (p. 60) and Highlights (p. 66) to find the program right for you.
What if those around you don’t share your same passion and are critical and even demeaning of your career choice? Such painful encounters can derail you. On the other hand, such opposition can refocus you on what truly matters most, as Cindy Sadler explains (p. 18).
Whether its loving to cook or hating it, emotions—both negative and positive—create the wellspring of passion within us. And just as my love to eat cookies further fuels my desire to log a few more miles each week, opposing emotions can deepen and enrich our passions. Working through conflicting emotions will require some suffering, ideally making us better artists and people in the process.
