司馬勤
多年來,我在專欄里曾發(fā)表過的觀點,包括來自不同文化的觀眾欣賞不同藝術形式展演時禮儀上的區(qū)別,以及當大批電影與話劇領域的藝術家們轉移目標進軍歌劇范疇時(反之亦然),有時會帶來出乎大家意料的效果。在過去的一年里,我撰寫了不少文章,談及新冠疫情時代為演藝團體帶來的壓力以及藝術家在這種環(huán)境下堅持繼續(xù)創(chuàng)作或表演所面對的困難、感到的憂慮。然而,以上提出的多個觀點日前在澳大利亞發(fā)生的一場糾紛中竟然合為一體。
2021年1月,一個美好的夏夜,在悉尼歌劇院里一對夫婦跟場內大部分觀眾一樣,在萊哈爾的輕歌劇《風流寡婦》精彩演出落幕之際,熱情地起立鼓掌。碰巧坐在他們后一排的老先生似乎被這種大眾化的熱情激怒了,他要求他們坐下。那位正值壯年的丈夫反駁說,他們與其他觀眾一樣,站起來只不過是為了對舞臺上的演員們表達謝意。然而,老先生隨后就開始用自己的節(jié)目冊猛力拍打那位妻子。這一行為激怒了丈夫,指控后排的老先生“攻擊他的夫人”,立刻召喚了劇院保安。過了不久,連悉尼市警察也抵達了“案發(fā)現場”。
翌日,警察局發(fā)表了一份簡短的聲明證實了此事:“警方接獲通知,一名53歲的男子與一名67歲的男子在一個娛樂場所內發(fā)生爭執(zhí)。警官對兩人進行勸誡后,沒有采取進一步的行動?!边@份輕描淡寫的公告中沒有提及的是——但網絡社交媒體以及八卦記者早就一窩蜂搶著報道了這一熱騰騰的新聞——事件中的那對夫婦正是歌手、制作人凱斯·厄本(Keith Urban)與他的妻子,奧斯卡金像獎最佳女主角得主妮可·基德曼(Nicole Kidman)。當晚夫婦二人孝心十足,本打算帶著基德曼的媽媽享受一個歌劇之夜。特此強調,警方的聲明中并沒有提及妮可的母親,也從來都沒有透露過老先生的名字。
即便是現在寫下這些文字的這一刻,我還是忍不住笑了出來。說真的,我不知道整件事件該埋怨的對象應該是誰。在任何百老匯的演出中(我可以肯定,澳大利亞歌劇院的這場演出應該類似百老匯大型音樂劇的豪華排場),觀眾們往往迫不及待地,在演員最后一句還沒說完時就開始鼓掌了。若是在百老匯,演出落幕時沒有起立鼓掌,這些觀眾甚至會被周邊的人指責。當然,在大多數國家里,觀賞歌劇的觀眾都比較拘謹。但如果那位身處悉尼、喜歡萊哈爾輕歌劇的匿名老先生到意大利看歌劇,愿上帝保佑他。如今,像澳大利亞歌劇院這類文化機構最渴望的,甚至愿意付出天價希望換取的,就是知名人士的光臨,那能使整場演出變得衣香鬢影、星光熠熠。(基德曼與厄本也很大方,事發(fā)之后他們還探訪了后臺工作人員,并與演員合影。)但我還是要忠告澳大利亞歌劇院:許愿需謹慎。
說實在的,原則上,很多大明星值得大家“敲打”一番。但令人沮喪的是,除了悉尼歌劇院以外,基德曼很有可能是澳大利亞目前最接近國寶級的名人了。去年7月,基德曼決定將葫蘆網(Hulu,NBC環(huán)球和新聞集團以及迪士尼合資成立的一家付費隨選串流影視節(jié)目網站)耗資1億美元制作的電視劇集《九個完美陌生人》(Nine Perfect Strangers)的拍攝工作從美國移師她的老家澳大利亞?;侣窃撈闹鹘羌鎴?zhí)行監(jiān)制,做出這一決定的原因是,美國的防疫限制措施令拍攝工作難以為繼,加之保險等費用開銷也一路飆升。演員與劇組成員等一大班人齊心合力地熬過澳大利亞政府制定的14天隔離期后開始復工。盡管或多或少因為疫情處于工作泡沫之中,但這個舉動也為數以百計的澳大利亞影視從業(yè)者提供了就業(yè)機會,一定程度上緩解了新冠疫情給他們帶來的傷害。簡而言之,基德曼這個決定幾乎是單槍匹馬地為澳大利亞娛樂業(yè)帶來了起色,就算撇去她是奧斯卡金像獎影后的身份,任何明事理的人如果碰見了她,都會張開臂膀歡迎她的光臨。
我猜,悉尼的樂評人或專欄作者根本用不著去提醒澳大利亞歌劇院。想當年,歌劇院在那天不怕地不怕、朝氣蓬勃、光輝燦爛的時代,催生了由巴茲·魯爾曼(Baz Lurhmann)執(zhí)導的地道的現代版《波希米亞人》,并贏得空前成功——這個制作如此時尚,更于2002年登上紐約百老匯。但今天回眸一看,卻顯得像個千年古董了。相反地,《風流寡婦》的導演格萊姆·墨菲(Graeme Murphy)今年70歲,他所面對的澳大利亞歌劇院觀眾既保守又死板,連墨菲在臺上用話筒都引發(fā)了爭議?!笆堑?,就像起立鼓掌一樣,”一位評論家調侃道,“麥克風也是禁忌。”
我也確信,澳大利亞歌劇院上上下下都意識到,“基德曼丑聞”是一場名副其實的公關災難。真可惜,這家歌劇院本應算得上得天獨厚。
第一,澳大利亞歌劇院是如今全球為數不多還可以迎來現場觀眾(全都戴口罩的)看歌劇的演藝機構之一。安排《風流寡婦》這臺輕松甜美的歌舞“秀”,就像天天都在舉行熱鬧的節(jié)慶晚會,大家歡天喜地,見證歌劇院隔了差不多一年重返舞臺的大好日子。其次,我從多則報道中了解到,澳大利亞歌劇院這回在吸引目標觀眾方面相當成功:除了常年來捧場的套票戲迷以外,也有從沒接觸過歌劇的新觀眾群,年齡層與品位都相當廣泛。重新開放的劇場里聚集了各類型的觀眾,這一新聞本應登上媒體的頭條——是的,他們也確實做到了,只不過標題的文字變成了“易怒的歌劇迷用節(jié)目冊拍擊電影天后”。
某些喜歡批評歌劇為自命不凡的、與當今社會脫節(jié)的表演藝術的人,看到這則新聞里的漫畫式特寫,肯定獲得極大的滿足。但是,要是我們認真地解構整個事件,我們應該留意到某些畫外之音。在過去差不多一年的時間里,全球數以億計的人欣賞表演藝術的唯一途徑,就是夜以繼日地坐在自己的電視或電腦屏幕前凝視一大堆影像。這種情形導致人們的社交技能每況愈下,對此你感到意外嗎?長此以往下去,在不久后的將來,人類很有可能會徹底喪失任何在公共場合下的互動能力。
順便一提,整起事件中,我們也不要忽略了口罩。很簡單,試想大家參加一個萬圣節(jié)化裝舞會。戴上面具,我們就可以把身份匿藏;而人家搞不清你是誰的話,你的惡作劇也不容易被拆穿。我想說的是,也許這位目前悉尼最有名的、捍衛(wèi)歌劇觀眾禮儀的老先生,如果他看得到前面那位女士口罩下的真面目,認出她是澳大利亞國寶級人物的話,就不會用節(jié)目冊拍擊她。不過,我也不敢就我的這一看法去打賭下注。
Over the years Ive written about differences in audience etiquette among cultures and artforms, as well as unintended consequences when artists from theatre and film turn their attention to opera (and vice-versa). For nearly a year now, Ive written about the stress that our Covid era has put on performing arts institutions and its emotional toll on creative artists merely trying to practice their art. But it took an altercation in Australia for all these threads to become the same story.
One summer evening in January at the Sydney Opera House, a man and his wife joined much of the audience in a standing ovation at end of Lehárs operetta The Merry Widow. The older man behind them, seemingly irritated by such populist enthusiasm, told them to sit down. The younger man explained that they were merely joining most of the audience in expressing appreciation for the artists on stage. The older man then swatted the woman with his program book. The younger man, accusing the audience member behind him of “assaulting his wife,” summoned the theatres security officers. Sydney City Police were soon called to the scene.
By the next day, the police department had issued a terse statement confirming the incident: “Police have been told a 53-year-old man and a 67-year-old man were both attending the entertainment centre when an argument broke out. Officers spoke to both men and no further action was taken.” What they didnt say—but internet chat and gossip columns tripped over each other to report—was that the younger couple in question were singer-songwriter Keith Urban and his Oscar-winning wife Nicole Kidman, who were taking Kidmans mother out for a night at the opera. For the record, mom was never mentioned in the police report. The older man still remains anonymous.
Even as I write this, Im still trying not to laugh. Im not even sure who to blame. At any Broadway show (which Im sure Opera Australias production rather resembled), the ovation practically begins before the actors stop speaking. Audience members are often chastised for not standing up. Of course, operagoers in most countries tend to be more reserved, but god help Sydneys anonymous Lehár lover if he ever tries to see a show in Italy. As for Opera Australia, this is precisely the kind of institution that would give its proverbial eye teeth to get a few famous people in the house (Kidman and Urban, for their part, did linger a bit backstage after the skirmish to take pictures with the cast). All I can say to Opera Australia is, be careful what you wish for.
To be sure, plenty of celebrities out there deserve to be smacked on principle. But whats truly sad is that, besides the Sydney Opera House itself, Kidman is probably the closest thing Australia has right now to a national treasure. Last July, Kidman made a decision to shift filming of Hulus $100 million television series Nine Perfect Strangers, in which she was both the star and an executive producer, from the US (where Covid restrictions had made shooting untenable and insurance impossible) to her native country. Both cast and crew went through Australias 14-day quarantine and, while remaining more or less in a work bubble, also provided hundreds of jobs for the countrys Covid-strapped arts sector. Kidmans decision almost single-handedly sparked an upswing in Australias entertainment industry—making her, in short, precisely the kind of person any sane person would welcome with open arms, even without the Oscar.
I dont think Opera Australia really needed any of Sydneys critics and columnists to point out that the heady, youth-filled era that spawned Baz Luhrmanns homegrown update of La Bohème—so sleek it later ran on Broadway in 2002—seems literally a relic of a previous millennium. By contrast,Merry Widow director Graeme Murphy is 70, facing an audience at Opera Australia so staid and traditional that even Murphys decision to amplify the singers on stage became controversial. “Yes, like standing ovations,” one commentator responded cheekily, “microphones are a no-no.”
Im also sure no one at Opera Australia needed to be reminded that Laffaire Kidman was also pretty much a public relations disaster. A pity, since the company had so much else going for it. For one thing, Opera Australia was one of the few institutions in the world presenting opera in front of a live (though masked) audience. Programming The Merry Widow—a breezy bonbon of a show—was surely intended as a celebration, a nightly gala marking the companys first time back on their iconic stage in nearly a year.
By all accounts, Opera Australia succeeded in luring their target audience, a broad range of ages and taste profiles from hardcore subscribers to operatic neophytes. Such contrasts and juxtapositions should have made headlines—and they did, except that the actual words turned out to be, “Cranky opera fan hits famous movie star with program book.”
Some detractors who find opera pretentious and out of touch no doubt found a great deal of satisfaction in reading such broad caricatures literally writ large. But in trying to deconstruct the situation, we should also note the subtexts. For nearly a year now, millions of people around the world have found their only connection to the performing arts night after night sitting at home in front of their televisions and computer screens. Is it really any wonder that our collective social skills have fallen so low? Its only a matter of time before we lose the ability to function in public at all.
And while were at it, lets not forget about the masks. All it takes is one raucous Halloween party to remind us of the fact that masks breed anonymity, and anonymity breeds bad behavior. Id like to think that Sydneys most famous defender of operatic decorum wouldnt have smacked his countrys national treasure if hed been able to see her face. But on the other hand, I wouldnt bet money on it.