*Awarded the 2016 Isidore and Helen Sacks Memorial Prize for extraordinary achievement in composition and vocal arts from Princeton University*
THE STORY
"I wrote ‘OMG’, my one-act opera, for my 2016 senior thesis at Princeton University, in an effort to explore timeless concepts such as filial love, the strengths of women, the potential for change after existential crises, and universal ideas which have carried religions such as Christianity through millennia. 'OMG’s story is that of a single mother's lifelong struggle to raise her only child, born of rape, as she searches for happiness, strength, and relief from the trauma that becomes forever intertwined with the identity of her son. While the many faces of the title phrase “Oh my God” are explored in different contexts while framed in different historical time periods spanning from 550 AD Ravenna, Italy to the U.S. today, I try to bring a woman's voice into a historical narrative of war and displacement across time and place using an original plot, unique orchestration, period-inspired musical styles, and artistic video projections to fuse together the piece’s many visual, architectural, poetic, musical, and spiritual elements." - SL
VIEW THE FULLY-STAGED PREMIERE BELOW:
PROGRAM NOTES:
This opera has been a massive but worthwhile undertaking from the start. I wrote it for my senior thesis at Princeton and premiered it in Princeton last April. Then by invitation, I was given to opportunity to produce it again here at The Tank—an incredible opportunity for sure. I’ve learned so much through the process of producing it twice, for different audiences and under different constraints. Thank you all for supporting me!
My hope for the opera was to find a creative way to organize and present a number of ideas and questions I found personally meaningful. This project was just as much a philosophical and spiritual endeavor as it was an academic and musical one. Below, I have outlined a number of thoughts that underlie my opera:
1) “Life requires faith in the necessity of death.” — This statement is probably the greater thesis of the opera. From what I determined, this idea can be interpreted in many different ways. This idea goes further than just “life requires death” or “death requires life” or that “life cannot be without death” or other similar statements like this.
Death may induce a belief in something, like a search for help or strength in the grieving process, just as trauma may induce as well (not that these are mutually exclusive). In the opera, this statement is presented mostly through the grieving processes that take place—Anna’s, Donna Francesca’s, and Anna’s son’s. In a number of ways, life requiring faith in the necessity of death may have ties to a grander subject of “eternal love”— an eternal bond that comes from memorial ties, filial ties, or some other strong emotive tie. But “loving forever” does not necessarily mean achievable unity or togetherness. This can be relevant on the micro to macro level: in personal relationships, for example, you may love someone for a long time but may not be able to be with them—that doesn’t stop you from continuing to love them. A macro-level example might be found in the Christian psyche. In Christianity we are reminded that “God loves us forever,” but a rational mind would say “but he is not actually tangibly with us.” The idea though, is that one can be together with God in spirit. Christianity, perhaps, bridges intangibility and ‘togetherness’ with faith as the adhesive—with what we call the Holy Spirit.
2) “A person doesn’t truly grow up until they lose their parents.” – My father was the first to say this to me. It stuck with me for some reason—at first it saddened me, and then it scared me, and then it empowered me. There are two parts about this statement that caused me to to think. The first was a question: is the pain and loss of a death conceivable before it happens? Perhaps not—it seems there is no truly effective preparation for the impact of a death. This opera was my best personal attempt to try—even though that sounds morbid. It wasn’t just about my parents, it was about death and loss in general. I thought that maybe, if I meditated and rationalized and researched something that seemed scary, maybe I’d be strengthened.
The second thought dealt with a simple fact of life that struck me: all children, eventually, lose their parents. This is unavoidable—something we all must face, without choice. The loss of a loved one can be sudden, and, as stated previously, one’s experience of grief cannot be fully prepared for or imagined. The only time the loss of parents does not happen is if the child passes first[2] —and this is no consoling alternative. The grief of a parent who has lost a child is like nothing I could possibly fully understand either, but I it to be an excruciating, traumatizing, and unbearable experience that can lead to severe life decisions.
3) “Oh my God”: At what point in life does one ask existential questions or seek religion? – Both seem to be prompted, most often, by moments of trauma or unexpected change in one’s life.
Such impacting moments might universally catalyze a quest for emotional support, which can be found in the rationalization of the event, suppression of the event, or search for emotional healing from the event. All three may have given strength to religions historically, which have offered this means of support, rationalization, and/or healing through the indiscriminate love from a deity(ies), a sympathetic community of others with similar beliefs, and/or a framework for inner spiritual reflection. The phrase “Oh my God” is used symbolically in the opera, to reflect these different scenarios and the range of implicit meaning carried by the phrase. Today’s use of the phrase “Oh my God”—usually shorted to “OMG” –is usually the furthest removed from the weight of the actual words. It has become a shallow colloquia built into (especially) the English linguistic culture, which is a very interesting phenomenon to me. This is something I chose to highlight in the opera by framing the phrase in different contexts.
Two go back to the original question, the two specific scenarios I present in the opera to answer it are: in the face of trauma and in the face of death:
4) The trauma of physical or emotional abuse: An event powerful enough to instigate existential questioning deals with personal human traumas in the realm of abuse, physical or emotional, and struggles with social inequality. We look at history and learn of a narrative that has often been shaped, fantasized, or contrived in some way. We know history happened, but then it is often subjected to presentation. Some issues tend to be common though. War happens. Gender binaries have been highlighted. Issues surrounding race or class inequality have also been highlighted. Status quos are always being challenged by somebody. I remained sensitive in the creation of this project to how these ideas were presented in opera more specifically. Sometimes they are parodied—like in Mozart. Other times they are romanticized—like in Puccini. Other times they are fantasized—like in Purcell or Monteverdi. The point is, these themes are not new. And they are still relevant today. Sexual abuse still happens today, just like it could have happened in 6th century Europe—and the trauma that comes along with it is just as real. The struggles of a single mother trying to provide for their children back then still resonate with single mothers today. This is Anna’s story. Furthermore, the reality of stigmatization, stereotyping, and objectifying women is what will remain unless we guide our children with the values, reason, and moral compass necessary to understand why this is wrong to do—this is the story of Anna’s son. Learning empathy and compassion no matter one’s material wealth is healthy and humbling—this is Donna Francesca’s story. A baby’s smile is contagious. Some things are timeless.
5) What has aided Christianity’s survival for thousands of years? More broadly, what might be the underlying reason for which a religion survives? Are these two “timeless” things?
I wondered if there was something humanly deeper which aided Christianity’s survival— we may say religion requires belief, requires faith, but behind that, why is there a desire to believe in something? Is it a yearning of connection—to each other, to nature, the the unknown? To feel as if there are reasons? To feel as if our existence plays a part in an already grander thing in existence? I don’t know the answers to these questions but I like to think about them[3] , and the conclusion I have come to is that there is something very basic at the core of the universal human experience and that is: pathos. Pathos causes questioning; pathos causes sympathy; pathos can cause disaster; or pathos can cause positive impetus. Pathos causes tears.
We all encounter pain. We all encounter suffering. And we all encounter happiness. In one way or another. What is more basic than to find solidarity in these simple facts of life? It is as real and timeless as death and life itself. Touching on these universal human experiences in a narrative, in a work of art or in a religion draws to it people who feel that connection, that relatability, even if they might not understand it with full consciousness.
We artists, all draw from the same pool of human experience.
To conclude, I believe that there is a subconscious emotional draw to this naturalistic human unity which cannot be fully explained. I also believe that music may, in many ways, be able to access that realm, also in ways we may not fully understand. Music can be a bridge between the intangible world of sentiment to the tangible world, and thus the creation of music is a blessing to those of us who try our hand in that realm. This is, in part, why I wanted to write an opera. To me, it was a medium with the potential to embody so much. But as a composer, I find myself at the mercy of inspiration—if I “try” really hard to write something, it usually fails. The music has to come to me, and I have to remain tender to it, so that I can embrace it when it comes. It’s not a passive state though. It’s like being actively passive. So like many other things in my life, I try to to approach music, and writing music, in the humblest of states.
PRESS ABOUT THE OPERA:
"During the summer after my freshman year, at a Hellenic Studies seminar in a remote monastery in Greece — the Monastery of St. John — I began to inquire about my own Greek Orthodox Christian faith as well as to ask some very reflective, even existential questions. I believe that it was here where the very beginings of what would become my thesis began. Thus, to represent the cross-temporal, cross-cultural and trans-historical nature of the themes I explore, the opera traverses six different time periods, beginning in the year 550 and ending in the modern day. Donnacha Dennehy, assistant professor of music, is my adviser and I have received generous guidance from many other faculty members as well."
"'OMG' on Stage" - Princeton Alumni Weekly
June 1, 2016
"From the start, she said, “I had professionals and professors telling me to drop the production. They basically said that no professional would attempt a project like this. They told me it would be impossible in anything less than a two-year time frame.”
Still, she kept writing, editing, staging, and producing — a crescendo through her senior year. She finished writing the music just two weeks before the opera’s opening."