The Queen's Stairs

A Sacred Opera

French Libretto by Jean-Pierre NORTEL

(English Translation by Paul Wehage)

Music by Jean-Thierry BOISSEAU

Characters:

Marie-Antoinette - Dramatic Soprano

The Woman in Black - Soprano

The Servant - Lyric Soprano

The People's Commissioner - Bass-Baritone

Instrumental Ensemble :

Organ, Pleyel harpsichord,

2 percussion :

vibraphone, 2 Timpani, tam-tam, Tubular Bells,

wood-blocks, snare drum, cymbals, triangle.

S.A.T.B. Chorus

Author's Note:

This opera retraces the last days in the life of the Queen Marie-Antoinette, from her arrival at the Conciergerie until the scaffold, evoking especially her last instants and her spiritual force in confronting her death.

The Queen, rejected by the Revolutionary society, is able to face her fate with true human dignity in the equality of all before Death.

By her act of charity, the Servant becomes "Queen" in ascending the stairs to the guillotine which is also her last voyage towards the hope of immortality

The cruelty and hate towards the Austrian Princess of the Revolutionary Court is transformed into a hymn of respect to all life and for the rights of all Men.

The essential element of the decor is a series of stairs. These stairs has three symbolic meanings:

- The stairs which descend to the Queen's cell in the Conciergerie

- The seats of the Judges and of the People

- The Scaffold which ascends to the Guillotine and Beyond....

Sets :

Behind the musicians, a wooden staircase in a perspective of four or five steps.

At the foot of the stairs, there is a very low doorway. Stage Right, a wooden table and a stool. The Stairway also serves as risers for the chorus.

The essential theme of the overture is the approach of death. The work enters rapidly in a universe of violence which is only partially contained, without any sense of pity. The only remaining question is that of redemption and human dignity.

Jean-Pierre NORTEL

Composer's Note :

The Queen's Stairs was intended to be a work commissioned for the Bicentennial of the French Revolution with libretto by Jean-Pierre Nortel and music by Georges Delerue. Unfortunately, the composer-in-Residence for Truffaut and of the Nouvelle Vague died before he was able to begin working on the project. It was twelve year's later that the author, in preparing the complete edition of his works for the theater, come across this work. Jean-Pierre Nortel gave me a copy of his libretto, asking me to compose the music if I found the subject interesting.

I found from the first reading of the text a freshness that I liked very much : the touching naïveté of the images of Holy cards was transformed by an elegant expression which hid a more deeper meaning. The dramatic construction seemed to me to especially powerful. This is less an opera than it is a Passion, the Passion of Marie-Antoinette of Austria-Lorraine, Queen of France.

Although I am more of a Republican than a Royalist, it was a study of the historical Marie-Antoinette and especially her Testament which convinced me to accept this project. This is not a work which is against either the Queen or the Revolution. This is a story of one person's redemption, a concept which interests me above and beyond any religious connotation as it then becomes "universal". Christians do not have the strict monopoly in the idea of redemption any more than they have the monopoly in the ideas of justice and dignity. The subject is also a tale in which Eros is not only the companion but also the objective ally of Thanatos (especially in the Dauphin's testament during the Queen's trial).

Once I had resolved these political issues, I returned to a study of the libretto which allowed me to clearly define my musical project. As I am quite fond of the works of Georges Delarue, the composer originally intended for this project, it amused me to use some references to his styles, especially in terms of our mutual love of counterpoint.

Since the underlying idea here is of a Passion, although less that of the Passions of Bach than of the Passions which were given in front of Churches during the Middle Ages, I decided to write using an idiom which I hope is easy to understand and dramatically effective, in the same manner as the popular Mystères. The vocal style is declamatory, with the exception of short mellismatic passages. The Organ is the backbone of the work, with almost constant playing during the totality of the work. The Harpsichordist and the two percussionists also have important passages which ask them to display their virtuosity.

The instrumentation was inspired by The Prodigal Son of B. Britten, but for questions of taste and also of volume, I decided to replace Britten's harp with a harpsichord. I would like this to a Pleyel harpsichord, if possible. Even if I love the sound of an original or a good copy of a Taskin or a Blanchet Harpsichord, I also love the sound of Wanda Landowska's huge monster. After a long period in France of Baroque Totalitarianism as regards period instruments, I have decided once and for all not to give up my bad habits. And since I made the choice of adopting a Neoclassical aesthetic in this work, it seems logical to follow this to its logical conclusion.

At the beginning of the composition, I had imagined a small positive organ with pedals but it quickly became apparent that given the texture of the work and the dramatic situations that a larger instrument would be necessary. It seems to me that an instrument of 20 stops with two keyboards (with a swell box, if possible) with a Plein Jeu and a 16 foot stop (even closed) in the pedal would be sufficient. There are many instruments in the choirs of churches which would fit this description. If the only possible solution would be an electronic organ, I would be willing to put aside my prejudices against such instruments if the instrument was of high quality. This is, after all, a dramatic work and not an organ concert.

Given the importance of the text, the Singers must have, in addition to the dramatic and musical qualities that every composer dreams of, extremely clear diction.

This work is full of references. There are bits of traditional songs, Gregorian themes, Church hymns and several hidden tributes to musicians whose work I admire (Duruflé almost always, Poulenc of course, Dupré sometimes et Jehan Alain often, to cite the most apparent, given that they had all written both for Organ and for voices ).

For those who will say that I have spent too much time writing music in the shadow of Saint Sulpice, I completely assume this judgment since the subject as well as my own personal tastes went in the direction. The musical language here is most often consonant, without any apology or complex. I am not one to be ashamed for using minor thirds when that seems to fit my subject.

My friend François Pigeaud always told me that he preferred to be surprised rather than moved...This was during the period of Musiques en Jeu, Darmstadt and counting to twelve... and I always answered that it is much easier to surprise than it is to move someone : Guignol ("Punch" in French children's puppet shows) always "surprises" the Gendarme with his stick...

I have tried therefore to simply be convey emotion so as to move....Only time will tell whether I have done so....or whether I have simply been surprising...

Jean-Thierry Boisseau