OPERA / 2017-2018
CANDIDE
MAY 3 OPEN REHEARSAL
Washington National Opera
Music by Leonard Bernstein Book Adapted from Voltaire by Hugh Wheeler in a New Version by John Caird Lyrics by Richard Wilbur with Additional Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, John Latouche, Lillian Hellman, Dorothy Parker, and Leonard Bernstein
Who’s Who
Candide: an innocent young man, nephew of Baron Thunder-ten-Tronckh (tenor—the highest male voice) Cunegonde: Candide’s love and the baron’s daughter (soprano—the highest female voice) Dr. Pangloss: a teacher and philosopher (baritone—a middle-range male voice) The Old Lady: an old lady (mezzo soprano—a middle-range female voice) Maximilian: Cunegonde’s brother and the baron’s son (baritone) Paquette: Cunegonde’s maid and Pangloss’s girlfriend (soprano)
PHOTO (Top) Caption: Candide (pronounced kahn-DEED) and Cunegonde (coo-neh-GOHN-duh) defy custom and get engaged.
Take a listen…
Before we even get started, let’s take a minute to listen to the overture. Though the story of Candide can be dark at times, the electric energy and pulsating rhythms of this opening music remind us that Candide has all the makings of a fun and frisky satire. (Even composer—and conductor!—Leonard Bernstein can’t help dancing.) Pay attention to some of these melodies; you’ll hear many of them again and again as Candide crosses the globe.
So, What’s Going On?
Westphalia, a German kingdom, the eighteenth century.
You are here…for now at least. But keep your passport handy.
Meet Candide. He’s a pretty optimistic guy. And why shouldn’t he be? As the illegitimate nephew of Baron Thunder-ten-Tronckh, he gets to live in a beautiful castle. He also gets to sit in on daily lessons with a philosopher named Dr. Pangloss whose personal motto is that all things happen for the best, and this world is, in fact, the best of all possible worlds.
But most importantly, Candide gets to spend his days with the baron’s daughter, Cunegonde, on whom he has a walloping crush.
Take a listen…
Candide’s tastes are a lot simpler than Cunegonde’s, but these two crazy kids are still in love (awww…). Even though Candide and Cunegonde have very different ideas about their future together, they actually sing the same tunes and keep insisting they “agree” on everything. Listen for some irony in the lyrics and in the music here.
Candide’s sunny outlook is put to the test, however, when he and Cunegonde announce their plans to marry, and Cunegonde’s brother, Maximilian, kicks Candide out of the palace. (Tough break, Candide.)
Wandering aimlessly through the Westphalian countryside, Candide stumbles upon a foreign army. No sooner is he forced to enlist than the army attacks Westphalia and Candide finds himself at war with his former homeland. Candide witnesses a terrible battle fought in the name of nationalism and glory (on both sides). Horrified, confused, and not knowing what’s become of Cunegonde and the rest of the Baron’s family, Candide flees amidst the chaos.
Heartbroken, Candide searches for Cunegonde across the war-torn landscape and eventually meets a beggar with a tin nose. Surprise! It’s Dr. Pangloss, who likewise escaped from the Baron’s castle, only to find his body ravaged by a “special” disease transmitted to him by Cunegonde’s maid, Paquette.
Take a listen…
Dr. Pangloss explains his debilitating disease is worth all the trouble it’s caused in this, the first of two (count them: two) songs about syphilis in the show. Listen for the occasional march-like rhythms in the song, which suggest Pangloss is entirely serious about his conviction that everything is for the best. (Note: The “Croix de Guerre” Pangloss refers to is a French military award for bravery. It translates as “Cross of War.”)
Reunited, Candide and Pangloss team up with a generous Anabaptist (basically, a guy who doesn’t believe in baptizing infants…a heretic in the eyes of European Protestants and Catholics but, to Candide’s surprise, a decent sort of fellow) and decide to set sail for…
Lisbon, Portugal
But along the way, a storm hits, and the Anabaptist is drowned (again…genuinely sad). Even more terrible? Almost exactly as Candide and Pangloss arrive on the Portuguese shore, a volcano erupts, and the resulting earthquake all but destroys the city of Lisbon, killing tens of thousands of people (once again, extremely sad and also immensely disturbing, especially seeing as it actually happened on November 1, 1755).
Candide and Pangloss are promptly arrested by the Lisbon branch of the Spanish Inquisition, which is looking for scapegoats to blame for the catastrophe. The two men are brought to an auto-da-fé (aw-toh-duh-FEY), a public execution ceremony in which heretics are tried and executed. Pangloss is hanged, but Candide manages to get by with only a beating. (Ain’t he the lucky one?)
Take a listen…
The citizens of Lisbon are perhaps a little too excited to take part in the torture and mayhem of the auto-da-fé . Check out the break-neck speed of the wind instruments and the breathless chants from the chorus, perhaps meant to represent the crowd’s unhealthy thirst for blood. Be on the lookout for some clever puns as well (“Shall we hang them or forget them?”/ “Get them!”), as well as for some references to the Latin masses that would have been observed in Lisbon churches (examples include: “Miserere,” a type of lament; “Pax Vobiscum,” meaning “peace be with you;” and “Dies Irae,” a requiem hymn).
Shockingly, though, it’s not all bad news for Candide.
Thanks to a happy twist of fate, Cunegonde has survived the Westphalian war! And now her beauty and charm have landed her in…
Paris, France
Here she splits her time (and affection) between a wealthy Jewish gentleman and the Cardinal Archbishop of Paris. She’s a bit upset she’s had to sacrifice her “virtue” for a few trinkets and a nice place to live, but not upset enough to say goodbye to her current living situation.
Take a listen…
Of all the many solos (or “arias”) in Candide, Cunegonde’s “Glitter and Be Gay” is probably the most recognizable (you may even have heard one or two sopranos try it out in your music class). Though the song is a mini-parody of a showy type of nineteenth-century singing known as coloratura, and though much of the tune sounds bright and bouncy, the aria is also a scathing satire of humanity’s obsession with material things. Try listening to the song here and then revisiting it when it turns up in the show. Does it have a different feel when you hear it in context?
So…Cunegonde seems set for life in Paris. That is until, by an insane coincidence, Candide arrives.
Overjoyed to discover neither one of them has actually died, the two decide to pick up where they left off, but are interrupted by Cunegonde’s two suitors (yikes). A violent confrontation ensues, and Candide stabs both men to death (double yikes).
With the police now on their tail, Candide and Cunegonde escape with the help of a friendly old lady, known simply as “the Old Lady.” The three make their way to…
Cádiz, Spain
But their stay doesn’t last long.
All of their possessions are stolen, the French police begin to close in, and Candide needs to make yet another escape.
Take a listen…
If you can believe it, the Old Lady’s had an even rougher life than Candide and Cunegonde put together (highlights include having one of her buttocks chopped off …we’re not kidding.) Still, like Pangloss, she’s determined to make the best of things. Hoping to sing her way out of a bad situation, the Old Lady tries to “assimilate” into the Spanish culture by offering her own rendition of a habanera (hah-buh-NAIR-uh, a dance with rhythms similar to a tango…you may have heard something like it in Bizet’s Carmen).
(Note: The “Rovno Gubernia” the Old Lady refers to is actually a reference to a region in the Ukraine where Leonard Bernstein’s father was born. The Spanish words used to rhyme with “Gubernia” also have personal significance for the composer: They were given to him by his wife, whose family was from Chile, and they translate as “I’m dying; I’m growing a hernia.”) You can’t make this stuff up!
Caption: The Old Lady takes a crash course in Spanish.
Miraculously, Candide is suddenly offered a position fighting for Jesuits (missionary Catholics) in South America. He jumps at the chance and, along with Cunegonde and the Old Lady, embarks for the New World.
Phew.
Let’s take a breather for intermission. Go get a snack. We’ll be here when you get back.
Okay. The theater lights are flashing.
Ready to return to the death-defying (and sometimes absurdly ridiculous) adventures of Candide? Sounds good. When we last left our hero, he was headed for…
Montevideo, Uruguay
Candide, Cunegonde, and the Old Lady reach Montevideo. But hold onto your hats, kids, because guess who’s there, too? Maximilian and Paquette (yup, they survived the Westphalian war as well).
Maximilian and Paquette end up at a Jesuit camp deep in the jungle, while Cunegonde gets a marriage proposal from the Governor of Montevideo, and poor Candide is forced to flee once again, as he’s managed to annoy the Spanish/Uruguayan police, too.
Candide employs a local named Cacambo as his companion, and the two venture through the wilderness until they uncover a Jesuit camp. (You guessed it; it’s the same camp where Maximilian and Paquette have been hiding out.) Instantly recognizing one another, Candide and Maximilian quickly fall back on old habits. Candide explains he still wishes to marry Cunegonde, and Maximilian still refuses to give his blessing. The two begin to fight, and, somewhat predictably, Candide ends up stabbing Maximilian and needing to flee. (If you’re thinking the body count is getting a little out of control, you’re right.)
Tired? Confused? Need yet another break? Here: Have an INEXPLICABLE time-jump!
Years pass and Candide and Cacambo are still lost in the South American jungle while Cunegonde and the Old Lady remain at the governor’s house. Soon Candide and Cacambo’s travels bring them to…
Caption: Candide and Cacambo take in Eldorado.
Eldorado
(If you’ve never heard of it, don’t worry. It’s completely made up.)
Yet despite the fact that Eldorado is a near-perfect paradise with gold and jewels to spare, Candide can’t get his mind off Cunegonde. Taking a gift of several golden sheep (yes, they have those in Eldorado), Candide heads for the coast, suggesting Cacambo bring one of the sheep to Montevideo and trade it for Cunegonde’s freedom. The men split up and Candide arrives in…
Surinam, a Dutch colony
Candide comes up with a plan to meet Cunegonde in Venice (because…why not?) and purchases a ship to cross the Atlantic. Only problem? The ship merchant is a total villain—she sells Candide a vessel that can barely float.
Will Candide ever make it to Venice? Will he and Cunegonde ever be reunited for good? And will our hero be able to maintain his positive attitude after all that’s happened to him?
Could be. Anything is possible in this “best of all possible worlds.”
Good to Know
Does the title Candide sound familiar at all?
That’s because you’ve probably encountered it in the classroom or on a summer reading list. It was originally a novel by French poet, playwright, and philosopher François-Marie Arouet, better known as “Voltaire” (1694-1778). An unapologetic spoof, the book version of Candide was a product of the French Enlightenment, a time of great scientific progress and new emphasis on logic and reasoning. Yet despite this shift in social thought, Voltaire saw much to criticize in his contemporary environment.
Not-so-subtly buried within the novel was a witty argument against certain optimistic thinkers of the day—particularly Alexander Pope and Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz—who essentially believed that everything happened for a divine reason. Struggling to reconcile immense tragedies such as the Lisbon earthquake and the impending Seven Year’s War with the idea that every single event is both right and good, Voltaire penned a story about a young man whose naïve positivity gets him into a ton of trouble.
Caption: In a nod to Pope and Leibniz, Dr. Pangloss educates his pupils in the beauty of optimistic reasoning.
Centuries later in 1950s America, playwright and author Lillian Hellman approached a young-yet-already-famous conductor/composer named Leonard Bernstein about collaborating on an operetta (a light, comic opera) of Candide that would be in the satirical spirit of Voltaire.
And this wasn’t just because Hellman was a fan of French literature. No: Hellman felt the overblown optimism, cruel abuses of power, and tremendous hypocrisy displayed in Candide would serve as an ideal metaphor for the American Red Scare (the fear of communist beliefs and practices) and its unjust sanctions and interrogations spearheaded by Senator Joseph McCarthy. Both Hellman and Bernstein had suffered personal and professional consequences at the hands of “McCarthyism,” so the two were naturally drawn to the project. In notes for a 1989 concert version of Candide, Bernstein even described the connection between his own experiences and those of Voltaire:
“That was the time of the Hollywood Blacklist…television censorship, lost jobs, suicides, expatriation and the denial of passports to anyone even suspected of having once known a suspected communist. I can vouch for this; I was denied a passport by my own government. By the way, so was Voltaire… His answer was satire, ridicule and, through laughter, to provoke in his reader self-recognition and, of course, self-justification: ‘Who, me? Not me.’ Which produces discussion, makes debate—and debate is, after all, the cornerstone of democracy. So Lillian and I were naturally magnetized by Voltaire’s…wit and wisdom, and quickly set about our work…”
Check This Out…
How the musical styles and choice of instruments change with each new location. Would you be able to tell when Candide has traveled to a new country without being told? How so? (Hint: Think slow and steady hymn-like songs for Westphalia or castanets and syncopated rhythms for Portugal.)
How the lighting, sets, and costumes give you clues about the characters’ fates. For example: Do Candide’s clothes give you any hints about when he’s run into some good fortune versus when he’s had a bad day? Do the scenery and lighting changes provide a sense of Cunegonde’s social status in Paris and in Montevideo?
In this production, the singer playing the role of Dr. Pangloss will also play the role of Voltaire, the ever-present narrator. Do you think this example of “double casting” is effective? What do you think Pangloss and Voltaire have in common? Throughout the show, does one of these characters come across as more sincere or more believable than the other? In what ways?
Think About This…
Both Candide the novel and Candide the operetta were artistic reactions to turbulent times. Do you think Candide still holds up as social commentary in today’s world? Does the satire make sense in our post-Red Scare era of social media, “fake news,” and international revolution?
The land of Eldorado has no courts or prisons and no concept of fear or revenge. Given Voltaire was somewhat frustrated with the society that surrounded him and that he was a known pacifist, what do you think Eldorado represented in the original story? Do you think it symbolizes something similar in the operetta? Can you think of a modern-day equivalent of Eldorado in literature, TV, or film?
Though the Candide novel ends rather abruptly, the musical adaptation has a long finale with a definite message. What do you feel the operetta’s creators wanted to say in this final scene? Does the show ultimately leave you in an optimistic or a pessimistic mood…or somewhere in between?
Take Action: Make Your Garden Grow
One of the key takeaways from Candide (in both its novel and musical forms) is to “make your garden grow,” or to take the time to cultivate something meaningful for yourself and for those around you. We think it’s a pretty good life lesson.
Why not be more like Candide? Okay, silly question (he makes a lot of destructive choices). But why not adopt his character’s thoughts on making your own personal garden? Don’t worry: We’re not talking literal gardens (unless you like that sort of thing!). Instead, we encourage you to take on an extended project you think will be worthwhile for you and your community.
It could be anything. If you and a few of your friends always wanted to start a band, you can book a local venue a few months in advance and get practicing. If you’ve been thinking about running a marathon, you can look up runs for charities in your area over the next year and start training. Or—if you want to be more exact about it—you can plant an actual vegetable garden and donate your produce to a soup kitchen or family shelter. The only rule here is that it has to be something that takes a lot of care and a lot of commitment.
Social media savvy? Track your progress and show the world the results of all your hard work using the hashtag #makeyourgardengrow.
Explore More
Go even deeper with the Candide Extras.
-
All photos by Karli Cadel
-
Major support for WNO is provided by Jacqueline Badger Mars.
David M. Rubenstein is the Presenting Underwriter of WNO.
WNO acknowledges the longstanding generosity of Life Chairman Mrs. Eugene B. Casey.
WNO's Presenting Sponsor
Additional support for Candide is provided by the National Endowment for the Arts.
© 2018 The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts