Rufus Wainwright

Canto l’amore gay‍

by Carlo Maria Cella – Classic Voice

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The Festival dei Due Mondi in Spoleto presents Hadrian, a "grand opera in four acts" composed in 2017, premiered in Canada in 2018, and revived by the Teatro Real of Madrid in 2022, now making its Italian debut. The author is Rufus Wainwright, born in 1973 in New York and raised in Montreal, a Canadian by heart and mind, and a songwriter who has collaborated with the likes of Elton John, Burt Bacharach, David Byrne, Boy George, Joni Mitchell, Robbie Williams, Billy Joel, Paul Simon, and Sting.

Which Adriano does Wainwright portray? The emperor who extended the borders of Rome to Britain, an aesthete and a connoisseur of beauty, who, for six years, was hopelessly in love with Antinous, a young and beautiful boy who drowned during a Nile voyage, possibly murdered or committing suicide.

"I really wanted to create these two characters, Antinous and Hadrian, as figures larger than life, with whom a gay man could truly identify, and if not identify, at least dream of them."

For a long time, we were sure. Or almost. The era of Opera was said to have ended with Turandot, an opera famously unfinished, not merely because Puccini died. So where does this operatic frenzy, which now pulses in every corner of music, come from?

In May, Santa Cecilia revived Written on Skin by George Benjamin, hailed as "the opera of the century" since its premiere in 2012, with around a hundred performances. In the same month, La Scala, in collaboration with Milano Musica, staged Francesco Filidei’s Il nome della rosa, a new opera set to travel to Paris.

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Can the Requiem serve as a model for what we will hear in Hadrian, even though it was composed six years later, in 2024?

"Right. Probably the Requiem is more, how can I say, complex and elaborate. I don't necessarily want to call it my masterpiece, but if I were to stop composing classical music today, writing the Requiem would leave me satisfied with my contribution to the classical music world. I still plan to write much more, but if I had to stop now, I would be content with the Requiem. As for Hadrian, it really forms an integral part of the journey leading to the Requiem. It’s a rather imposing piece, and you can tell that I’ve been trying to expand my orchestral and musical vocabulary. Many times it works, sometimes perhaps I push a bit too far, but I find it all intriguing. I feel that Hadrian isn’t as perfect as the Requiem, but it clearly shows my growth as a composer and the fact that I’m really challenging myself. And it’s exciting to hear it in a musical piece."

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The work that preceded Hadrian, Prima Donna, was not, in fact, the first he had in mind.

"No, in fact, I wanted to write Hadrian first, but I didn’t feel I had the capability to do so."

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However, you pursued the more ambitious project first.

"Well, what happened was that I wanted to write Hadrian, but I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t yet have the training or the skills, so I decided to put it aside. I found the subject of Prima Donna and felt that it was much more approachable. I could bite into it and chew it. So I began composing Prima Donna, a very special work for me because it’s perfect in its own way. It’s not incredibly ambitious, though it’s very subtle, very intimate, and it expresses my romantic passions. I feel something in that opera that makes it stand alone. Hadrian, however, is much more than a bridge between Prima Donna and the Requiem. In some sense, it’s probably my favorite because it’s so unusual, and you can tell that in these years, I’ve acquired new mastery, particularly in orchestration. I’ve really worked hard on this. And then, of course, one of the most important things is balance: knowing how to write so that the singers can be heard over the orchestra, and I’ve worked a lot on that. I think that, if there’s something that has helped me, it’s been my tenacity in wanting to continue working in this field, which in the classical world isn’t particularly open or welcoming. It’s a cold environment. But I don’t mind too much, because it’s pushed me to take the next step and to challenge myself beyond my limits. I stuck with it, and for example, this year, Prima Donna is being staged in Stockholm with the Royal Opera House of Sweden. So, between 2025 and 2026, all three of my major works will be performed across Europe: Hadrian, Requiem, and Prima Donna. As a composer, I don’t think you can ask for much more than seeing your three major works performed in the same year."

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Hadrian contains all the key elements of opera: love, power, inner fragility, death, sudden death. How do you breathe life into all of these elements?

"Well, you don’t have a choice if you want to tell a story of that kind, with those ambitions and that depth. And with that grandeur, especially if it’s set in the Roman Empire: you really have to ‘surrender,’ as they say, and I did. I threw myself into it. You know, my main inspiration was this: I am a gay man, I am homosexual, and I’ve loved opera for most of my life. Many gay men have passed through history for hundreds of years, but there have never been gay protagonists in major operas. There’s no Tristan and Isolde or Aida with a gay twist. I really wanted to create these two characters, Antinous and Hadrian, as figures larger than life itself, with whom a gay man could truly identify, and if not identify, at least dream of them."

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I assume Marguerite Yourcenar was important in this project.

"Yes, I read Memoirs of Hadrian when I was quite young, and that was the seed for this opera. However, the opera is not based on Marguerite’s book. I studied historical texts, I visited Villa Adriana in Tivoli several times, where they lived, and immersed myself in the world of Hadrian and Antinous."

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How would you describe your style and your technical equipment as a composer?

"...Well, at the moment I consider myself a ‘conservative.’ Art in general, high art, classical music, and the visual arts have gone through a real iconoclastic period in the 20th century, where everything was dismantled and, in many ways, deconstructed. I feel that now we are in a similar period with respect to the environment, forests, and trees, where we have to try to save things. We need to collect the pieces and try to recreate beauty, to create music that humanity needs to continue surviving. That doesn’t mean I don’t love or adore Schoenberg. I love the great works from all periods, but I think now is the time to use every available color to summarize a lot of all this. Today, we can listen to composers from before the 20th century, like Bach, ten times a day on an album. We live in an interesting time where we can use all the colors from all the epochs. I think that’s a bit of my work: creating the record of my dreams."

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His Requiem is a tribute to Verdi with a curious dedication to Puccini, but not Giacomo, rather to a dog he named after him. Is it serious or a joke? Why and since when does Italian opera feature in your cultural and musical horizon?

"It started with Verdi’s Requiem. I was about 13 years old when I heard a recording with Leontyne Price and Jussi Björling. After two hours of listening, I was completely changed. From that night on, I became an opera fan, and the next day my journey began, a journey that continues today. It all started with Verdi’s Requiem and then continued, opera after opera. I dove in deeply, and it was a wonderful experience. I knew from the beginning that I would be a pop musician because, frankly, it was more fun, but I kept my passion for opera, and now I try to give something back to that genre because it gave me so much. I still go to the opera; it’s truly like my religion or my church. The opera house is the place where I’ve been the happiest and also the saddest – a house of fantasy."

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The photographs of Robert Mapplethorpe have been part of the opera from the very beginning?

"No, the idea of Mapplethorpe came from my husband, Jörn Weisbrodt, who directs this production. He’s a fantastic director, having worked a lot with Robert Wilson, particularly in the world premiere of Einstein on the Beach, and with Marina Abramovic. He was born in Hamburg and spent years on the artistic staff at the Staatsoper in Berlin, working closely with Mussbach and Barenboim. It was his idea to combine the opera with the images of Robert Mapplethorpe. A stroke of genius, because there’s a real resemblance to both my music and the Roman aesthetic. To be completely honest, Mapplethorpe’s vision is also very practical. The first production of Hadrian in Canada was lavish, with costumes and large sets, set in Egypt, where Antinous died. But having Mapplethorpe’s images is just as compelling; they capture the imagination."

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There’s another monumental figure in your horizon, Schubert. I imagine for the Lieder.

"Yes. Writing songs is my daily bread, and it’s where I live my emotional life fully. I feel like Schubert and I are brothers. Of course, I love Mahler, Strauss, all of them, and Verdi, and I try to imitate them or at least aspire to them. But with Schubert, I feel that we are simply singer-songwriters trying to move forward in life."

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Do you feel more Canadian or American?

"Well, at the moment, I definitely feel more Canadian. I’m very proud to be Canadian, with everything that’s happening. I would definitely fight for Canada if it were attacked by the United States. However, I think it’s important to stay in the U.S. right now, to be involved in the process and be at the heart of the storm. I won’t leave the U.S. at the moment."

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The work of a "pop musician" fits quite well in a "Festival dei Due Mondi". Gian Carlo Menotti was almost a pioneer in the free exchange between Europe and America and in many freedoms within contemporary music: melody, tonality, distance from the serialism that dominated the 1950s and looked down upon it.

"I feel very at home at the Spoleto Festival precisely for this reason. It has a unique trajectory, one that comes from Menotti’s example."

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