Refecting on Moses und Aron

Since Saturday night's performance of Moses und Aron, I've been pondering on the portrayal of its two main characters. Moses, the inarticulate one,  presented as having this idea about the unique and eternal God, source of all existence, its order, purpose and meaning - the eternal one so far beyond human comprehension that no words or thought can convey the reality of the divine. It's only possible for humankind to be in awe, and to worship the source of our own being.

Aron, on the other hand is the one gifted with words with which to express the thoughts and ideas of other people, the spokesperson for the rank and file, who consider themselves unable to rise to the idea of reaching out to the infinite, of transcending all human concepts in placing the divine reality at the centre of life. Aron argues that people need words and symbols, something tangible to represent their higher intentions and meanings. In the wilderness, the people of Israel miss the deities around which their lives in Egyptian captivity revolved, and appeal to Aron to give them something more tangible to identify with. 

He forges the image of the Golden Calf to be the focus they think they need, but this initiative turns out to be a recipe for chaos and anarchy, as it points them nowhere beyond themselves. It is nothing more than a reflection of who they are - their strengths, but also their fatal weaknesses and flaws. People look for something to secure and unite them outside themselves, but don't look far enough beyond themselves. The worship of the idol doesn't take them out of themselves towards the Beyond, but quickly becomes an end in itself, stifling growth, leading to decay and destruction. The concept of sacramental and iconic symbolism in which the visible is a window to the unseen, had yet to emerge as something human hearts and minds to play with and learn from.

Idolatry, which turns goods into Gods, ascribing ultimate divine significance and power to naturally created things and human constructs, is sternly prohibited by the law which Moses receives from God in solitude on Mount Sinai. In solitude, away from all social demands and pressure, it's easy to think uncompromisingly. Following through in people's lives with such a tough commandment is fraught with challenges and difficulties, as much today as in ancient times. Aron is unsuccessful in translating new ideas of God's supreme uniqueness in a way people can learn from them. Are we any better in an age in which we are frequently being told  'image is everything' ?

Schoenberg's Moses conveys starkly some central tenets of mature Jewish teaching. He doesn't, however, glean from Exodus the significance of the conversations and arguments between Moses and God, whom Moses talks to as a man talks to a trusted friend. Schoenberg's Moses seems to wrestle alone with absolute abstract ideas. He conveys them somehow to Aron who expresses them to the people on his behalf. Moses as introverted prophetic philosopher isn't quite the familiar biblical character. The bible is much more concrete in delivering ideas. Biblical anthropomorphism is far too easily written off as the product of a naive and primitive mind-set, rather than a creative engagement with understanding that leads beyond the dialogue of words into the depths of silence. It's a form of learning through play how to approach ineffable divine reality, and play is one of the great resources of the human mind for working things out creatively.

I heard the other day on the BBC Radio Four Today programme of Professor Dawkins' proposition to ban myth and fairy tale from schooling on grounds of the statistical improbability of magical events occurring - frogs turning into princes. Can't the editor do better than to put up a children's story writer in defence of her art, when an educator, psychiatrist or philosophical theologian is needed to contend with Dawins' instinct to censor anything that doesn't comply with his rationalistic world view? This is about the richly textured nature of truth we live by and worthy of better consideration even in a popular news programme. 

Scientific rationalism and the knowledge it offers is an essential and reliable foundation to life in the modern world. It's not an end in itself. If idolised and made into a divine substitute, it has the power to consume and destroy its devotees. This we know only too well from the history of modernity. Are ordinary human beings capable of resisting the impulse to some kind of idolatry or another? Or at least reading the spiritual health warnings in place for the best part of three millennia? Sometimes I wonder.

  

No singable tunes, but so thought provoking

This evening we went to the Millennium Centre for Shoenberg's 'Moses und Aron'. As a result of attending the pre-opera discussion hosted by David Pountney and Mona Siddiqui, our appetite for something that's definitely not run-of-the-mill opera has been whetted. Schoenberg was a creative artist with a strong sense of mission, confronting his contemporaries in the German speaking high cultural realm with the uncompromising moral and spiritual demands of Jewish monotheism. He was discovering his identity as a Jew for the first time returning to the religion of his forefathers after a secular upbringing. He wrote both music and libretto for the two finished acts of his opera, and left directions about its staging. The entire opera is an expression of his unique prophetic voice. It's hailed as a masterpiece, but would we agree?

I anticipated that the music, based on Schoenberg's innovative use of the 12 tone scale, would be difficult to engage with, and indeed the first twenty minutes of listening was challenging for its sheer intensity. Or perhaps it was a matter of attuning to something different, with few memorable motifs or tunes to pick up. The choral element of the work was just astounding in richness and complexity, mixing polyphonic singing with choral speech. The physical positioning of different elements of the choir, not only on stage, but in the orchestra pit and off-stage behind the scenes, created the most remarkable sonic textures. On times the orchestra seemed to be playing a dissonant counter-melody to the singing of the choir, with powerful effect. 

Moses and Aron are the key dramatic figures on stage. Moses speaks, but in a rich melodic way, contrasted by Aron's singing voice. The orchestra doesn't accompany the singing but rather creates a huge rich sound track, building atmosphere, reflecting the content of the libretto. If it was hard to tune into at first, it's because there's simply nothing else quite like this music. It gave me that same buzz of excitement I get from hearing good contemporary jazz improvisation.

The design and staging is said to be derived from Schoenberg's production ideas. The set for the first act resembled a political debating chamber, presided over by Moses, accompanied by Aron as his spokesman. This is where Moses proposes to the people of Israel the covenant of allegiance to the one true and eternal God. The meaning of this is discussed in the light of miracles wrought by Moses before the exodus from slavery in Egypt. 

In the second act, the set is transformed into a cinema auditorium. This act recounts the story of the making of the Golden Calf and all that follows from it, concluding with the return of Moses and the destruction of the tablets containing the Commandments. There's no image on stage of the idol, mentioned in the biblical story. The subject of the people's idolatry is a projected movie. Aron speaks to them of the 'image' they watch as being images of themselves. In this context, it's an astounding, challenging idea. 

The dialogues of the people of Israel with both Moses and Aron were of great interest meriting further study, and cross checking for consistency with biblical narratives, or reflecting Schoenberg's textual interpretation. He was, after all a newcomer to biblical tradition, perceiving the story with fresh eyes. I look forward to finding out more and can now say with personal conviction that this work is a twentieth century masterpiece in every sense. The third act was still a work in progress when Schoenberg died. An attempt has been made to complete and perform it from legacy material, but that wasn't included here. As an unfinished work it has greatness in its own right, because of its bold confrontative nature.

There's no doubt WNO's production and performance of the opera is as good as it gets, and faithful to its author's prophetic intent to get his contemporaries to think about real nature of divine reality and what it demands of human beings. In an epoch marked so strongly by idolisation of the self and self-fulfilment, may this work continue to make us think hard about what we value most in life, and why.

   

  

Prelude to a night at the opera

After another day housebound by weather and the miserable effects of sinusitis, we ventured out this evening to the Millennium Centre, for supper at Ffresh, the stylish in-house restaurant, where we were greeted by a Welsh speaking Maitre d', and served by a French speaking Quebecois. 

Afterwards we attended a talk given by David Pountney, librettist and opera producer, about composer Arnold Schoenberg's life and his operatic masterpiece 'Moses und Aron'. His special guest was theologian and broadcaster Mona Siddiqui, one of Britain's top islamic theologians and inter faith dialogue specialists. They had done the same double act this morning at the Hay-on-Wye literary festival, and seemed glad to have another go at it on home turf. It's one of a series of events under the banner 'One World, Many Faiths', mounted to accompany the summer 'Faith' season of operas, well just two of them actually, the other being Nabucco. We have bookings for both in the coming month.

I didn't know anything about Schoenberg apart from his name being associated with use of the twelve tone musical scale. Despite its length, David Pountney's biography of Schoenberg's life and work was informative and interesting. and Mona Siddiqui's valuable comments and reflections left me wanting to hear more from her. The theme of their conversation was that of identity in relation to religious faith.

Schoenberg was born into a non-practising Jewish family. His search for spiritual meaning led first to conversion to Christianity. Then, well before the rise of Nazism, he encountered and was subject to the social germanic anti-semitism of the era, and reacted against it by reverting to Judaism. His consciousness awakened to the profound evil of racism and the need to campaign actively against it, which he did with prophetic discernment and fervour in the political sphere, finally joining other German exiles in the USA during the time of Nazi supremacy.

As a man of Jewish ethnicity disposessed of its ritual and community life, Schoenberg strived to engage with the religious and spiritual meaning of Jewish scriptural foundation texts, discovered in the context of modern secular liberal values and his pride in German artistic cultural heritage. His opera 'Moses and Aron' centres around the relationship between the Moses the inarticulate man who walked and talked with God, and Aaron his brother and divinely appointed spokesperson to the children of Israel. Its setting is the story of the Exodus from Egypt and sojourn in the wilderness up to the fabrication and destruction of the Golden Calf and death of Aaron.

Schoenberg wrote both libretto and music, but only completed the first two acts. These were performed in concert for the first time just before his death in 1951 and premiered as an opera on stage six years later. His use of the twelve tone scale, in which each musical tone and semitone is equal to the other, was intended as a revolutionary innovation heralding a new era of artistic musical consciousness. It's more than coincidental that in Schoenberg's latter years, Swing was evolving into Bebop taking Jazz in a new and revolutionary direction. Black Jazz musicians, were also struggling with questions of identity post-slavery, in an 'emancipated' society that was nevertheless riddled with racism. 

Schoenberg's engagement with the Torah as an outsider to Jewish religious tradition led to a realisation that the first two Commandments required an uncompromising moral and spiritual austerity hardly congenial to human beings. This may be what having faith in God demands in the wilderness, in times of crisis, but what happens in the promised land? Or is there no promised land, in a world so ridden with injustice and tyranny?

The evening's conversation was a stimulating prelude to a night at the opera still to come, and touched upon many more issues than it pursued. It was the beginning of an interesting dialogue about what it means to come to the sources of faith, if not faith itself, out of a society that has lost touch with its identity and roots in religious culture and spirituality. It's an issue that has resonance for all kinds of believers eager to share their faith. Remarkably, it occurred in a precinct of highest artistic endeavour, rather than in seminary, cathedral, mosque or temple. I'm sure there are historical precedents for this. It was just good to be there.