In 1987, the art of opera changed decisively. John Adams’s opera Nixon in China was so unlike the usual run of new operas in its concept that many people, on first hearing about it, assumed it had to be a joke of some sort. Turning the preposterous and reviled figures of Richard and Pat Nixon and Henry Kissinger into operatic heroes — they were all still alive in 1987 — seemed preposterously at odds with the dignity of the form. It was entirely serious. Though the concept was in part that of Peter Sellars, the opera director, the exquisite refinement of treatment was that of the librettist, Alice Goodman. Unlike almost all contemporary operas, it quickly spread across the world. A second opera by Adams and Goodman, The Death of Klinghoffer, took on a still more newsworthy real-life subject, the murder of a Jewish-American tourist on a hijacked cruise liner by Palestinian terrorists.
Philip Hensher
Whatever happened to Alice?
If opera today seems more widely relevant than it has for decades, we have Alice Goodman to thank
issue 19 August 2017
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