The Coral Gables Times

Opera Begins At Home A noted actor and son of a famous tenor tells how he introduced his children to the great classics BY WALTER SLEZAK

PHOTOGRAPH BY DELMAR LIPP The author, acting out all the parts, makes "Tosca" more exciting than any thriller as Mrs. Slezak, Erica, and Leo look on. ONE OF THE FIRST great events in my daughter Ingrid's life was seeing the hero of a play arrive on stage in a boat drawn by a white swan. The hero was a magnificent knight, probably the most magnificent knight ever to come from man's imagination, and he arrived in time to save a fair maiden's honor, foil the treachery of a jealous woman, marry a princess, evoke his own magical powers, mortally wound an evil count, and finally take his leave in a boat pulled by a dove. This, of course, is Richard Wagner's "Lohengrin," an opera that has always held enormous fascination for me. For my five-year-old girl, that afternoon, it was just a fairy tale with music, but ah, what music! Today, eleven years later, she hums it in the best Mitch Miller "sing along" tradition whenever we play it. The joys of Mozart and Wagner and Puccini have belonged to our children for many years because in the Slezak family we have had a plan for bringing opera into the home, and the plan has worked for all three of the children, our son as well as the two girls. We began early in life with "the bedtime-story" opera. Every parent knows that a child's pleas far exceed anyone's ability to think up new stories, so here's a splendid opportunity—make the opera a bedtime story. Children love foreign-sounding names and words, especially when spoken with great gusto. They evoke all sorts of visions and fantasies. Most operas have only four or five important roles necessary to the story, and you may find it absolutely delightful to be the hero one moment and the villain the next. If you need to refresh your memory about the names of the characters or the plots, you will find many books of operas in your local library or bookstore, some written especially for children, that make fine reading aloud. Also there is a growing number of pocket-size books with full librettos explaining in detail the action of the opera and the themes or leitmotifs which help identify the characters and action—very useful later on when you play the music that goes with a story you've already told many times. IF YOU NEED more reward than the pleasure of your child as he listens to the story, get him to say the names of the characters or the opera. A five-year-old trying to say, "Pagliacci" or "Il Trovatore" is unbelievable until you've heard it. A word of caution: don't use opera only as a bedtime story. This could be very dangerous in setting a pattern whereby the child feels it is a prelude to sleep. The effects of this can be seen all over the world, in opera houses, theatres, and concert halls, and certainly should not be encouraged. Instead, spark mealtimes, too, once in a while, with these stories of high adventure, of good and evil, and true love. All the world loves a lover, and every child loves a hero, so in between small bites of food your child can easily be persuaded to listen to a tale that may bring him more happiness in his life than the carefully prepared food you've set before him. And it may help him to eat better into the bargain. Stress the heroes and the villains, show the treachery of Melot in "Tristan and Isolde," and contrast it with the nobility of Tristan. And remember that children love action, like the clash of swords between Don Jose and Captain Zuniga in "Carmen," or the knife fight that follows between Escamillo and Don Jose. If you have a knack for narrative, don't be afraid to describe the costumes and the setting. The gypsy encampment in "Il Trovatore" where the famous Anvil chorus is sung is alive with excitement as the men at the forge accent their song striking their hammers against the anvils. A child's imagination is more vivid than yours or mine, and the colors he uses can paint any scene. All you have to do is give him the chance. YOU MAY find all this more fun than you imagine. But more important, you'll be building for your child's future. Isn't it better to have him learn about opera through its action than hear the countdown on Wyatt Earp's latest victims? With the one he will be taking the first step toward a permanent treasure; the other will leave him as blank as the bullets in the sheriff's gun. In all this preparation, let's not forget the most important element of opera, the music itself. When my daughter Erica was still quite small, she was fascinated by the story of "Madame Butterfly"—lanterns, kimonos, battleships and all—and when she had heard over and over again, by request, my account of that tragic, blossom-strewn romance, we played the recording and listened to it together. As each theme appeared I'd identify it, and she soon learned to connect the characters with their music. The first time she recognized Cio-Cio-San's rapturous entrance aria she squealed with joy, "There's Choo-Choo-Train." We ended by giving her the record for her own. This made her feel closer to it, and it became a part of her world. Today it is even easier to interest your child in opera than it was sixteen years ago when I made my first attempt. Each year television broadcasts "Amahl and the Night Visitor," an ideal opera with which Continued on page 23 16 Suburbia Today, August 1961