Operatic Pride?

LGBTQ+ opera singers are on the ascent! From the pride flag being flown proudly high at the BBC’s Last Night of the Proms in 2019 by openly bisexual Mezzo-soprano Jamie Burton (Church, 2019), to Classic FM listing of the “18 brilliant LGBTQ+ opera stars you should know” (Pentreath, 2022), to Norway’s very own Adrian Angelico receiving a rave review for his performance of Sesto in Bergen (Valencia, 2021), it does seem that LGBTQ+ singers are finally given their due on the Opera stage.

Alongside LGBTQ+ singers’ growing success and visibility in the industry, there is burgeoning awareness among vocal pedagogues of the needs of LGBTQ+ students and the importance of providing LGBTQ+ students with a safe and conducive environment to shape their gender, sex, and sexuality identities together with their musical identities (See for example William Sauerland’s Queering vocal pedagogy (2022), which I readily recommend to vocal teachers and choral directors).

So, all is great then? I’m afraid not. For opera was and is Queer. But, perhaps only to a certain extent.

Whilst LGBTQ+ countertenors might inhabit the often mythical and androgynous characters left by the castrati (male singers who were castrated before puberty between 1500-1900), and men, in various degrees of gender and sex transitions, might be allowed to sing trouser roles (male character roles traditionally sung by cis women), opera remains firmly within the “heterosexual matrix” (Butler, 1990). Within this matrix, cis-gendered male and female bodies are aligned to their respective ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ voices and mostly perform roles revolving around heterosexual entanglements and intrigues. It would, thus, seem that LGBTQ+ singers mainly occupy character roles in which a certain level of androgyny and genderbending is already expected as per operatic tradition. As such, the presence of LGBTQ+ singers is contingent on their lack of disturbance of the heterosexual matrix presented on the stage. It is not surprising that nestled among the stellar review of Adrian Angelico, Mark Valencia writes that Adrian is “bounded by the roles available to him” (Valencia, 2021).

Thankfully, there is a growing number of modern and contemporary operas that have LGBTQ+ narratives at their forefront; notable among them are Alban Berg’s Lulu, Peter Eötvös’s and Mari Mezei’s Angels in America, Laura Kaminsky’s As One, Theodore Morrison’s Oscar, Charles Wuorinen’s Brokeback Mountain, and Ian Gordon’s 27. As to whether these excellent operas can command the same traction as traditional operas during an opera season – that remains to be seen. At present, opera companies are financially pressured to maintain their core audience base, many of whom are more partial to familiar and standard operas than the new and unknown (Vincent, 2023). Just think of the numerous Mozart’s The Magic Flute that are performed each Christmas/Winter season.

Classical singing education in higher music institutions (HMI) is also inert to change. With the pressure to prepare students for professional careers in an already competitive job market, many HMI are singularly focused on honing a student’s technical proficiency and normative interpretations of standard repertoire to better his/her/their prospects of employment (Leech-Wilkinson, 2021). Additionally, some scholars (see for example Regelski, 2016; Ritchey, 2023) are disturbed by the unquestioned ideals that circulate within HMI that valorizes normative standards of aesthetic beauty and excellence above all else, discounting the uniqueness of each individual and their well-being.

Please don’t get me wrong. There have been and are continuing great strides in increasing the visibility of LGBTQ+ singers and lives in opera as well as efforts taken by institutions and teachers to appreciate and better the lives of their LGBTQ+ students. Certainly, many of these developments have been and are being spear-headed by LGBTQ+ singers and teachers themselves, who possess the courage to go against the grain and challenge socio-cultural expectations and norms. In the context of Norway, Skeive Stemmer, an opera company set up by a group of visionary LGBTQ+ singers, is one such shining example. The company provides up-and-coming as well as established LGBTQ+ singers a platform to showcase their talents and offers audiences, here and abroad, the opportunity to witness their vibrant creative energies. I, for one, am readily looking forward to their production of The Merry Wives of Windsor in London this coming summer.

We should indeed take pride in the unprecedented and swift advancements made within opera culture. The “there’s a place for us” invoked by Leonard Bernstein in West Side Story is in many ways coming into fruition. But, there is still much to be done! Opera culture needs to be continuously challenged, questioned and expanded, for there is much pressure to stick to the tried and tested. If left unchecked, opera might continue to make invisible LGBTQ+ lives or render them secondary and peripheral to society. If left unchallenged, vocal education might continue to discount the lives and creative energies of LGBTQ+ students that give shape to their identities and musical voices.

So, let us press on in this fight! As audiences, we must continue to support LGBTQ+ opera projects, our viewership does not only aid in increasing their socio-cultural visibility but also goes in some ways to support their continuing efforts financially. As teachers, we must continue to listen to our LGBTQ+ students and find ways to incorporate their lives into the creative work they do. As scholars, we must continue critically challenging socio-cultural and philosophical ideals that might entrap LGBTQ+ singers’ creativity and interpretations. In short, our work, as LGBTQ+ individuals and allies, is not done. There is still much more that LGBTQ+ singers can offer to opera. I, for one, am eagerly anticipating what more will come!