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Why is it that the furthest reaching truths about ourselves and the world have to be stated in such a lopsided, referentially indirect mode? When you hear people talk about metonymy, metaphor, allegory, and other such names in grammar, doesn't it seem that they mean some rare and exotic form of language? They are the terms that apply to the babble of your chambermaid. Throughout the twentieth century, composers of opera have had to contend with countless pronouncements that theirs was a dying or dead form, increasingly irrelevant to the contemporary historical moment. Perhaps the critics were right. It would not be much of an exaggeration to say that, by midcentury, opera had become a cipher for “the historical” itself in a period in which the theoretical and artistic vanguard was relentlessly critiquing historical thought on multiple fronts: in the legacy of New Critical literary theory, in structuralist semiotics and anthropology, and, notably, in late modernist and avant-garde aesthetics.1 Tellingly, in 1967 Pierre Boulez famously repudiated what he saw as the musical establishment's pathological attachment to tradition by calling for all opera houses to be “blown up.”2 That the Frankfurt Opera House, where Europeras 1 & 2 by his onetime friend John Cage were to be premiered in 1987, was actually burned down by an arsonist two weeks before the performance, and that Cage expressed his qualified sympathy for the man's act, are mere felicitous details in the story of opera's death.31 ...
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