TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/013089/01308900.063

Text File | 1992-09-23 | 5.7 KB | 112 lines

                                                                                MUSIC, Page 75

Second Storming of the Bastille


A fight for control of Paris' new opera reaches fortissimo


    For Israeli conductor-pianist Daniel Barenboim, 46, Paris
has truly been the city of light. During his 14-year tenure
leading the Orchestre de Paris, he built a major international
reputation and branched out to top assignments in the opera
world. A year and a half ago, he won the powerful job of
artistic director at the still uncompleted Opera de la
Bastille. In September the grateful government awarded him the
Legion of Honor.  But now Barenboim's luck has turned. While
President Francois Mitterrand kept silent, he was summarily
fired -- and just as summarily vowed to sue. He denounced the
"lies, half-truths, bad faith and especially the incompetence
of those in charge."

    With that, the Bastille exploded into the biggest uproar
since a mob stormed the fortress prison to begin the French
Revolution of 1789. Some of the brightest stars in the world of
music noisily opened fire in support of Barenboim. Jessye
Norman, the stately Georgia-born soprano, said she would
"reconsider" whether to sing in the celebrations of the 200th
anniversary of the Revolution. Patrice Chereau, who was to
stage a new production of Mozart's Don Giovanni on opening night
a year from now, said he considered his contract "annulled by
this event." Conductor-composer Pierre Boulez resigned as vice
president of the organization in charge of Parisian opera.
Zubin Mehta of the New York Philharmonic said, "I will not go
there under these circumstances." Herbert von Karajan, the grand
old czar of the conducting world, declared that his plans for
the Bastille were "null and void."  Also lining up behind
Barenboim:  Sir Georg Solti of the Chicago Symphony and Carlo
Maria Giulini, formerly of the Los Angeles Philharmonic.

    The target of all this firepower was Pierre Berge, 58, the
autocratic president of the $400 million-a-year Yves Saint
Laurent fashion empire and the designer's companion of 30
years. Some said Berge's chief qualification to be head of the
governing Association of Theaters of the Paris Opera was that he
had contributed handsomely to Mitterrand's re-election campaign
last year.

    The split puts in conflict two radically different concepts
of opera.  Barenboim's plan was to concentrate on top talent,
starting with himself in charge of everything at an annual
salary of $1.1 million; he expected to devote extra time to
rehearsals and limit performances to about 160 a year. "He
doesn't want a few special roses in a garden of weeds," as
Mehta puts it. Berge, who took over the opera association last
August, not only requested that Barenboim take a pay cut and
give up substantial executive authority but also demanded that
the $430 million Bastille opera house start paying its way with
an assembly line of up to 250 performances a season. Barenboim
agreed to take a substantial pay cut, but the arguments over
artistic control remained insoluble. "I am not willing to
accept the chief executive of a couture house telling me who is
best to sing a particular role," Barenboim told a press
conference.

    Berge retorted that he never asked any such thing, only a
veto power over Barenboim's decisions. "I have absolutely no
interest in artistic control of the new opera," he told TIME.
Nonetheless, he argues that Barenboim's choice of classic works
is "elitist." Says he: "The program established by Barenboim . .
. satisfies neither President Mitterrand nor me." But he puts
considerable blame for the furor on the maestro's exalted pay:
"I offered Barenboim a salary of 4 million francs ($667,000),
but he would not accept anything less than 5 million
($833,000)."

    Berge also complained that Barenboim would be spending only a
minimal four months a year at the Bastille. The conductor
claimed he would spend at least seven months there and wondered
aloud how much time Berge was planning to take off from Saint
Laurent to work on opera.  "When he refused to accept my
conditions," Berge declared, "we broke off negotiations.  I
cannot let the money of the state be spent in so extravagant a
fashion."  And he did not like Barenboim's slurs, either.  "I am
not the head of any old couture house," he said.  "I built a
fashion empire out of nothing."

    There is actually some difference of opinion about whether
Paris really needs an expensive new opera house.  The grand old
Palais Garnier, with all its gilt mirrors and chandeliers and
its resident phantom, has delighted audiences for more than a
century. But cultural-monument building is a beloved Parisian
occupation, and after the success of President Georges
Pompidou's imposing modern-art center, Mitterrand naturally
began in 1981 to think about a new opera house. Being a
Socialist, he talked glowingly of popular, modern opera, and
the edifice was assigned to the gritty Bastille area.

    In contrast to the gaudy old Garnier, the 2,700-seat
Bastille opera is designed to be austerely functional -- a
bleak concrete, stainless-steel and glass oval, with gray-black
granite floors and walls and five revolving stages for fast
changes of scene. "The whole idea of this opera house is that it
is very sober," according to architect Carlos Ott, 42. "You
don't have decoration inside the hall. The decor is on the
stage."

    With six months to go before the curtain rises on Bastille
Day,  Berge is blithely ignoring all the threats of boycott as
he considers how to replace the gifted and popular Barenboim.
"I'm sure I will find people of excellent quality," he says.
Others are less sure of that.