Recent recipients of the Discovery Grant, composer Whitney George and librettist Bea Goodwin discuss their new opera No Man’s Land—a “pact with the devil” story set in the Dust Bowl—as well as the women-focused work of the groundbreaking ensemble The Curiosity Cabinet. For additional information about Whitney, Bea and The Curiosity Cabinet, please visit the links at the end of this interview.
Please tell us about The Curiosity Cabinet and its mission to promote works by women about women. What does this mean to each of you?
Whitney George
Whitney George: The ensemble focuses on presentation of interdisciplinary works, which often leads us to produce things that are opera or opera-adjacent when it comes to the scope and scale of the performance. Historically, especially in opera, there is an overwhelming presence of specifically male perspective. For me, as a creator and producer of these works, this means actively contributing a different perspective to the art form. And when it comes to presenting these works, it’s also about femmes being the driving workforce in mounting these productions: from the crew to the cast to the orchestra to the administrators who are doing the work to make these productions happen. I think it’s also important for the younger generation to see women in positions of leadership and creation as well, as it’s difficult as a young person to see yourself where you don’t feel actively represented. And I think that really goes for any field.
Bea Goodwin: Whitney created The Curiosity Cabinet long before I knew her. I had admired their merging of art forms that always managed to be femme focused, femme first. Oh, to watch Marcy Richardson work her aerial magic above the orchestra in Night Like Velvet, a 12-part piece inspired by the late, great Sylvia Plath. This was a company I could align myself with, and I was thrilled when Whitney asked me to join the board back in 2021. It comes as zero surprise women’s works are few and far between in classical music and opera—it is, in fact, why the Discovery Grant exists after all. As an ensemble producing works, we have a hand in altering the narrative by curating engaging seasons with relevant/urgent themes populated with femme/gender non-conforming talent. This work is extremely gratifying.
Whitney, when you composed the music for No Man’s Land, what was important for you to highlight, musically, thematically?
WG: An opera is a large-scale work, and something you might experience only once. As a result, the structure of the opera should be crystal-clear, and easy enough to navigate upon first listening, as that’s often the only listening that happens! Strong motivic identity of each of the key characters is a must: it helps give essential definition to our characters on stage. Creating a work that has both distinction and organic unity is a rough bill, and an interesting puzzle to try and figure out. I think that’s one thing that continues to bring me to opera time and time again: it’s a very large puzzle to construct, with many moving parts.
Specific to No Man’s Land, I really wanted to make sure that the characters each had a distinct identity, but also for the location to have a music to it. Some of this color is added with the use of diegetic/source materials—for example, quotations of popular music contemporary to our story, but it’s also a part of the specific sonorities that are from the location. The Midwest is an area of huge expanse, and when we think of Americana, we often conjure up sounds and images that are associated with the simple vastness of the American landscape. We often think about Copland’s music as iconically American, with his expansive use of open harmonies, which is referenced in No Man’s Land as well.
Then there are characters, such as the devil, who come with a very rich and long history of musical expression. From the forbidden use of the tritone, to the seductive waltz of death in Danse Macabre, to the depiction of the devil in Stravinsky’s The Soldier’s Tale — the devil and his depiction in music has been a long fascination, and it referenced for this character specifically. As the devil is, in a way, timeless, the music that accompanies him is also timeless. As a character who also borders on the edge of the supernatural, he has a special connection with the orchestra—as though he’s aware of the underscoring in a way that the other characters are not.
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Bea, in writing the libretto what was your guiding force? Did you work simultaneously with Whitney or did the music come first?
BG: My guiding force will always be providing solid structure for the composer. There are two very distinct portions of the craft: the outlining/research process then the writing process.
Bea Goodwin
Throughout outlining and researching, I am working alone or with a dramaturg. This is the most time-consuming part of what I do. Typically, I create between 5-10 drafts of the opera outline over the course of several months, if not the better part of a year. The specificity of the outline and the song spotting informs the entire trajectory of the piece and all its riches. I take this outline to my two writers’ groups, gathering notes and implementing them until I feel it’s ready to show the composer. Next, I write the thing. This is where Whitney and I are writing simultaneously. We don’t always begin from the top; in fact, I rarely request we do. What I like to write first is what I call “the bop” a.k.a. the aria I think people will want to sing immediately— be it the sad girl love song or…okay yeah, it’s typically the sad girl love song now that I think about it.
But from there, I go back to the beginning and start my work. The opening number can be intimidating. I think you really need to know the characters before you introduce them, so working out of order really acquaints you with their needs and voice. Through Tilly’s love song, I learned she not only loves Santi, but she loves the idea of loving someone who could get her out of No Man’s Land. Characters tell you things. See what serves the story. Then begin that story.
WG: I’d maybe also just add that nothing is really fixed until the two elements: the words and the music, come together. If you’re a Sondheim, the only person you have to negotiate with is yourself, but as Bea doesn’t know what the music sounds like, just as much as I don’t know what the words are, there has to be negotiation between the two of us. Repetition and variation are the way in which we generally understand form and structure—in music, anyway. And there will be a lot that the music sort of demands on the text after we begin—and the reverse happens when we start: the text demands something specific of the music. Often there are asks to reorder, to insert, to repeat—and it’s all a part of the necessary, creative dialogue that happens between composer and librettist.
The “pact with the devil” is a timeless and universal theme that has been at the core of works of literature and of course, opera. Why do you think that this theme continues to be such compelling material to set to music and words?
WG: One of my absolute favorite lectures to teach is something I called “Death Obsessed: the Devil in Music” that traces a lot of the historical works, from the Renaissance to current day, which musically depict the devil. Why is the devil interesting? I mean, aside from being identified with an interval, which is an incredibly small musical unit, there’s always some sort of bargaining that happens when the devil is on the scene. The devil is an entrepreneur; there’s usually an ethical or moral dilemma. I think we’re interested in the character because we know he’s generally evil, but occasionally does good? The devil deals bad hands to good and bad people alike. And, I think when it really comes down to it, we see something of ourselves also in this character. Whether we want to or not.
BG: I think the devil taking many forms is such a delicious idea. What makes a devil? What makes something devilish? Do we, as a society, create this villain or was he born into the world this way? Our devil takes form as a suitcase farmer, the real estate agents who are largely to blame for the Dust Bowl. Their greed to demolish and monetize the Great Plains caused death, destruction and absolute destitution while they sat far away counting their profits. The theme of desperation appeals to me; what would someone do in their lowest hour? That right there is the Devil’s Playground.
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A story that takes place in the Dust Bowl made me instantly think of an iconic work of literature and I have to ask: did The Grapes of Wrath play any role at all in inspiring you?
BG: A different piece inspired, though The Grapes of Wrath is my favorite Steinbeck—
I long to own a Sundial Press edition of the work should anyone wish to send it my way… As a young teenager, my favorite book was Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse. It is a marvelous story of a young girl experiencing the loss of her mother during the Dust Bowl. The book’s cover includes the famed photo of young Lucille Burroughs by Walker Evans during the Great Depression as part of the WPA project, who served as a muse for the leading role of Tilly.
The magnitude of that disaster was one I could never wrap my head around as a kid. Two years ago, I came across the book and decided to read it again, 20 years later. Still, it transported me like it did back when. I did some rudimentary research about the Dust Bowl and quickly learned it was a man-made climate disaster, and that human actions dictated the outcome. This was a call to action. History is repeating itself in a terrible way and climate activism must be discussed.
WG: I know that Ricky Ian Gordon has a Grapes of Wrath opera, but I generally try to stay away from other musical interpretations of famous works set during this time. I’d rather give it my own interpretation than try and recreate something that worked for someone else. And that’s true of any subject matter I take on. However, I do listen to source music contemporary to our story to be inspired, look at historical footage, research, and more.
What did receiving the Discovery Grant mean to each of you?
WG: I’ve been a consistent applicant to this grant for an embarrassing number of years now. In the previous cycle we submitted Fizz & Ginger, our second opera, which was denied their support, but ended up receiving a NYSCA Commission; we gave it a New York premiere, and less than a year later, Chicago Fringe produced it again. Before all of that, though, it received a rejection, and that’s hard: to not let the opinions of a committee bring down how you feel about a project and its potential success. So, of course we’re truly honored and grateful for the support—but can’t reiterate this enough: so many panels still pass on really wonderful projects. The biggest thing it meant is that Bea and I really persevered and didn’t let years of judgment and rejection hinder our creative growth.
BG: I feel like for any femme composer or librettist, the Discovery Grant is one of the largest feathers you could put in your hat. All of us crave validation to some extent that the art we are about to put years of blood, sweat and tears into feels not only worth it, but something people need. So much of this application asks in detail about the story we are telling. It felt wonderful that the adjudicators acknowledged the necessity of telling a cautionary tale of our climate crisis if Congress continued to ignore the call. Change begins locally, art helps facilitate change. I am very grateful we received this accolade that enables a dedicated workshop of the piece and eyes on the work I cherish with Whitney.
What advice do you have for composers and librettists who are starting out their journeys in these realms?
WG: For composers, I would say studying the rich history of opera is an absolute must. I’ve encountered a number of new works written that don’t reference the repertory pieces. Even if you feel like you’re going to be doing something completely new, still study the old stuff. With a score. Make annotations and markings with analyses. See opera on stage, in performance! And then beyond doing your due diligence when it comes to research and engaging with the art form itself, make some good creative habits. If you’re a composer waiting around for inspiration, don’t. It’s a muscle. Work it regularly and figure out the times that you’re most creative, be it in the mornings or the evenings, and make a habit out of writing during that time. Be precious about it. Taking time off is also excellent—there’s a lot to be said about being away from the page to consider things, but if you’re evert on a deadline, my best advice is to truly work on it a little bit every day.
BG: My advice would be read. Read plays, read books of musicals, read epic poems. Read libretti to early music, trace a da capo aria. Read libretti from the verismo period, draw a parallel to a femme historic figure and create a trajectory for her following the form. Read reviews of what is being produced now and go!
There will be a workshop performance of No Man’s Land on June 17th at 8pm at IRONDALE in Brooklyn.
The Curiosity Cabinet (the-curiosity-cabinet.com)
