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En Travesti: The Feminine Beneath The Pants
En Travesti: The Feminine Beneath The Pants
En Travesti: The Feminine Beneath The Pants
Amy Cartwright
4/6/2011
The operatic stage is one that tells the story of history while continually denying it. In
terms of plot, opera often couldn’t be farther from the truth. From keeping Euridice alive at the
opera has been known to be a little more than liberal in its retelling of well-established stories or
myths. Even operas containing historical plots seem to take a generous amount of artistic license
in their recreations. However, more resonant than the action being depicted on stage, opera is
telling us, or sometimes not telling us, something about history and about the bodies that make it.
In her article, “Through Voices, History,”1 Catherine Clément traces a history of revivals
of Beethoven’s Fidelio, whose original setting is the French Revolution, complete with themes
of love and liberty. During the Nazi invasion of Austria, opera directors revived the opera to
highlight how Austria had won liberty through Nazism. It drew parallels between Leonore
fighting for her husband and Austria fighting for its leader, Hitler. After the war ended, Fidelio
was again revived, this time with Hitler depicted as the antagonist, Pizarro. Ten years later,
when the Statsoper was reopened after being damaged during the war, Fidelio was again
performed as a celebration of a “new Europe”. In short, despite the plot and its setting, Fidelio
sent a clear message through its performances, a message that may or may not exist in the plot
itself.
Like the example of Fidelio, many operas are telling us more than an entertaining story.
They speak of something larger than their plot structure or spectacle—they speak to
contemporary perceptions, experiences, and values. Throughout the existence of opera, gender
and the body have been employed in a multiplicity of ways—men playing women, men playing
1
In Siren Songs: Representations of Gender and Sexuality in Opera
2
men, women playing men, women playing women, women playing men disguised as women, the
altered man (the castrato) playing both women and men (though, interestingly, never a castrato).
In short, opera is no respecter of persons, just a respecter of voices. Or is it? While issues of the
body are often dismissed and its signification is sacrificed on the altar of music, one must
remember that the body is the only thing ever present on the operatic stage. The voice leaves the
And thus raises the question, what are these bodies trying to tell us? Specifically, what is
the female body, representing a man, trying to tell us? While many focus on the empowering
and subversive nature of a woman being allowed to represent a man, this in itself speaks to the
conflicted nature of the trouser role. Being neither man nor woman, the trouser role negotiates
between the masculinized woman and the feminized man and in so doing, chronicles a history of
Cross-dressing has a long history on the dramatic stage, perhaps even as old as the stage
itself. From the ancient Greeks, to Shakespeare, through the traveling commedia dell’arte
troupes to the Spanish Golden Age theatre, cross-dressing was not only accepted, but audiences
It is hard for today’s audiences to understand how such a blatant representation of man-
as-woman or woman-as-man was able to occur without question or concern. Many theories
claim that such representations were “titillating,” and while this may be correct, one must also
understand how audiences of the past perceived sex and gender. In Laqueur’s Making Sex: Body
3
and Gender from the Greeks to Freud, he discusses how the physiological understanding of the
male and female bodies shifted around the 18th-century from a “one-sex” to a “two-sex” model.
In the one-sex model, Pre-enlightenment scientists understood the female genitalia to be the
same as that of the male. The only difference was that while the male genitalia were on the
outside, the female’s were on the inside. According to Galen, “women were essentially men in
whom a lack of vital heat—of perfection—had resulted in the retention, inside, of structures that
in the male are visible without.”2 Since Baroque audiences perceived men and women to be
essentially the same sex, with the female being a less-perfect version, it should come as no
surprise that a man could represent a woman and a woman a man without any confusion.
Indeed, this belief was not only manifest in the theatre but also in everyday life. Though
a modern understanding of the physiology of the body quickly dismisses these claims, numerous
accounts exist of women turning into men. By way of example, Laqueur cites an incident in
which a child by the name of Marie Garnier had been raised and dressed like a girl but “then
once, in the heat of puberty, the girl jumped across a ditch while chasing pigs through a
wheatfield: ‘at that very moment the genitalia and the male rod came to be developed in him,
having ruptured the ligaments by which they had been held enclosed.’”3 This story accompanies
many others in which some form of “heat,” induced by overexertion, puberty, intercourse, or
some other means, caused a perceived biological change from woman to man.
Interestingly enough, a woman could biologically morph into a man, but the reverse was
considered impossible. Citing from William Harvey’s Lectures on the Whole Anatomy, Laqueur
states, “Movement is always up the great change of being: ‘we therefore never find in any true
2
Laqueur 4
3
Laqueur 127
4
story that a man ever became a woman, because nature tends always toward what is most perfect
and not, on the contrary, to perform in such a way that what is perfect should become
“‘soft and womanish’ [by] curling their hair, plucking their brows,
pampering ‘themselves in every point like the most wanton and
dishonest women in the world.’ Men of this sort seem to lose the
hardness and stability of male perfection and melt into unstable but
protean imperfection.”5
In short, while a woman could physiologically change into a man, a man could only become like
a woman. Thus we see the beginning of the idea of the woman-as-man role being an
empowering one. On the other hand, the man-as-woman is never “empowering” because it
What about the revered castrato? Though they were highly favored on the Italian and
British stages, the castrato presented a problem in the hierarchical “chain of being” as he was
classified as an incomplete man. How does he fit into this “great chain?” Thomas McGeary
suggests, in his essay regarding the London audience’s effeminized perception of the castrato,
that
4
Laqueur 127
5
Ibid 125
6
McGeary 10
5
In short, while the castrato did occupy a “middle ground,” McGeary makes clear that middle
imperfection.
All of this flexibility of sexuality, be it through natural or artificial means, translated onto
the Baroque operatic stage in the neutrality of roles. Since women could, theoretically, change
into a man and the castrato, by way of unnatural means, had descended to the “imperfect, sensual
feminine”, the playing field was equalized. As such, the castrato and the woman could sing any
role, regardless of sex. As Margaret Reynolds remarks, “in practical terms this kind of
haphazard casting meant that theatres could simply give their parts to the best qualified singer
regardless of sex.”7
Because in the one-sex model there was one essential sex (male) and two genders—man
and woman—all that was needed was for the singers to assume the signification of man or
woman to be read by the audience as such. Laqueur notes, “In the world of one sex…to be a
man or a woman was to hold a social rank, a place in society, to assume a cultural role, not to be
organically one or the other of the two incommensurable sexes.”8 In the opera, and in other
dramatic practices in which cross-dressing occurred, the costume served as this signification of
man or woman. Men wear pants, women wear dresses. It did not matter if a male or female was
playing the role; the signification of gender was enough for the audience because gender was all
Then things changed during the 18th-century, the period known as the Enlightenment—
an age in which encyclopedias were organized and scientific knowledge replaced religiosity and
7
Reynolds 137
8
Laqueur 8
6
tradition as the way in which one came to know truth. In music, compositions were measured,
mathematical, and the focus was on the “natural” rather than the elaborate and obtuse practices
of the Baroque. However, one of the most important changes brought about with the
As doctors and scientists began to name and identify differences between the male and
female body, there emerged the understanding that men and women were sexually distinct and as
such, occupied opposing social roles. In a world in which a vertical continuum of the same sex,
with man at the top and woman at the bottom (with a possibility of ascension), the castrato could
negotiate a space. Having fallen from the hierarchical man yet, “not woman”, he existed,
essentially, someplace in the middle. However, in a world of two sexes, one was either a male or
a female, there was no continuum. Hence, the castrato physically no longer occupied a space.
Consequently, he disappeared from the operatic stage around the beginning of the 19th century.9
In a two-sex world it would seem that the demise of the castrato and the solidification of
two diametrically opposed sexes would also mean the elimination of the trouser role. However,
she continued to occupy the operatic stage, and with greater presence and force than ever before.
The period from approximately 1800-1830 marked the golden age of the trouser role in which
the woman en travesti10 assumed the role of the heroic male and lover—the musico. From the
title role in Rossini’s Tancredi, Arsace in Semiramide, and Malcolm in La donna del lago, no
longer was the female voice used in this role as a secondary choice, one employed in absence of
9
The castrato was already in decline by the time of Mozart and Gluck as is evidenced by the very few roles
composed for them. However, the last opera by a major composer containing a role for a castrato is Giacomo
Meyerbeer’s Il crociato in Egitto (1824).
10
Italian term for “in disguise”
7
Why, when the castrato was losing favor on the operatic stage, was the trouser role
gaining such popularity? For one, the aesthetic of the 18th-century for the high treble voice was
still strong. Since female singers had been mix-and-matched with the castrati for about 100
years, when one takes the castrati out of the equation, the female singer is all that is left. As to
why the travesti were allowed to still occupy the stage as the castrati were disappearing from it?
It is likely due to the fact that the castrati, with their perceived lack of sex or gender distinction,
lived life both on and off the stage. However, the travesti only employed their gender ambiguity
in the theatre. At the end of the performance the costume, the signifier of gender, was taken off
and the proper gender was again assumed. And most importantly, the sexed female body always
remained. Even in its inferiority to the male body, the female body, because it is clearly and
“biologically” sexed, posed less of a threat than the ambiguous body of the castrato.
However, this heyday was short lived and as the voice of the castrato haunted audiences’
ears less and less, the tenor soon replaced the travesti as the heroic ingenue. The tenor had two
advantages over the female en travesti. First of all, he was a man, both on and off of the stage—
a definite advantage in the emerging drive toward realism. Secondly, the aural differentiation of
opposites.”11 As Naomi André indicates, the tenor-soprano duo led to a striking differentiation
between the lovers’ voices.12 Though André demonstrates that the voice of the mezzo-soprano
trouser role also fulfils this differentiation, as her voice is lower than her soprano lover, the tenor
offers a more striking contrast and helps to solidify the male/female dichotomy. Also, there is
not only a difference in the lowness and highness of the voices but also an opposition of vocal
11
Laqueur 10
12
André 90
8
timbre. While the soprano and the mezzo-soprano occupy different tessituras, the tenor and the
soprano have entirely different voices. In revisiting Laqueur’s theory of sexuality, the hero’s
However, the trouser role did not simply disappear from the operatic stage as had the
castrato. Instead, her position moved from one of dominance to one of periphery, from viable
hero to adolescent boy, from the empowered masculine to the feminized male. These are the
trouser roles that come to mind most readily—the pageboy, the servant, the friend. In essence,
the trouser role becomes synonymous with lack of power and/or a negotiation of womanly
virtues or tendencies. Though clothed as a man, the trouser role speaks, or rather—sings—of a
feminine aesthetic and constantly struggles between the exteriority of man and the reality of
woman. As a result, the trouser role affords audiences a glance at contemporary perceptions of
femininity.
Perhaps the most celebrated and discussed trouser role of all time is Mozart’s
Cherubino—awkward, mischevious, and most of all, hormonal. Le nozze di Figaro was written
and performed before the popularity of the travestized male hero and yet, as Sam Abel claims,
“The brilliant success of Cherubino estalished the figure of the drag boy on the opera stage, and
the seductive power of this figure served to normalize the practice of operatic drag for all
9
subsequent opera.”13 Certainly, it is the role of Cherubino that most opera-goers think of when
Outside of being a fun-loving part of a fun-loving opera (albeit, with a very serious
message about fidelity and forgiveness), Cherubino stands apart from other trouser roles in his
representation of sexuality. As Margaret Reynolds argues, “[Mozart’s] Cherubino was not one
of the old-fashioned, haphazard, largely innocent travesti roles where the voice was what
mattered and the body beneath was irrelevant. Far from it. This time, perhaps for the first time,
this young woman dressing as a man dressing as a woman was explicitely about sex.”14
In returning to Laqueur’s one-sex model, the issue of female sexual climax is forefront,
scientists believed that female (as well as male) sexual climax was essential for conception while
contingent bonus of the reproductive act.”15 In short, one of the defining characteristics of the
two-sex model, and sexual difference rather than sameness, is a dismissal of the imporance of
feminine arousal. This invariably affected not only what happened in the bedroom but also a
radical change in how women and men were socially constructed. In a world in which female
However, once it was eliminated as a necessary component, women were stripped passionless.
As Laqueur notes, “The commonplace of much contemporary psychology—that men want sex
13
Abel 154
14
Reynolds 140
15
Laqueur 3
10
while women want relationships—is the precise inversion of pre-Enlightenment notions that,
extending back to antiquity, equated friendship with men and fleshiness with women.”16
boy, played by a woman, who is obviously not devoid of overt sexual feelings. During the
audience’s first encounter with him, Cherubino exposes his passionate nature during a
Felice te che puo vederla quando vuoi! Lucky you that you can see her when you want!
Che la vesti al mattino, che la sera la spogli Who dress her in the morning,
who in the evening undress her!
Che le metti gli spilloni, i merletti.. who put on her the pins, the laces…
Ah, se in tuo loco… Ah, if in your place…
This excitement and exposure of bursting sexual feelings toward the Countess gives way to one
of the most frenzied and overtly ardent arias in all of operatic literature, “Non so più cosa son,
One of the most striking features of this aria is Mozart’s use of the offbeat. Since the aria is
already in cut time with a tempo marking of allegro vivace, the offbeat entrance to the phrase
creates a sense of hurriedness, as if the aria itself is getting away from Cherubino (see Ex. 1). Commented [D 1]: Double check Turabian about specific
format for this.
16
Laqueur 3-4
11
This compositional tool is used in the A and A’ sections of the aria and reappears in the second
half of the aria with Cherubino’s list of objects to whom he speaks of love
all acqua, all’ombra, ai monti to the waters, to the shadows, to the hills,
ai fiori, all’erbe, ai fonti, to the flowers, to the grasses, to the fountains,
all’eco all’aria, ai venti to the echo, to the air, to the winds
Not only is it a feature of Cherubino’s aria, but Mozart employs the same offbeat, frantic figure
in Leporello’s Madamina! Il catalogo è questo as he boasts of Giovanni’s exploits and lists the
number of women with whom there has been a sexual liaison(See Ex. 2). Both arias speak to
their subject’s exploits of love (though Leporello is speaking of Don Giovanni’s rather than his
own), both contain lists of objects (in the case of Don Giovanni, women who were used as
objects) and though Cherubino is read as innocent and playful, both are characterized as
However, there is one crucial difference between Don Giovanni and Cherubino—
Cherubino is enacted through a female body. For one so sexually charged as Cherubino it would
be strange for the audience to read the travestized woman as anything but farcical if a
supposition of the “passionless woman” was the dominant philosophy. While Cherubino is
certainly a comic character, he is not farcical. On the contrary, he speaks to a pervading belief in
the sexually passionate woman, a woman who not only endures, but enjoys.
12
Jump forward 125 years to Strauss’ Octavian in Der Rosenkavalier. Octavian is often
regarded as the successor to Cherubino, and for good reason. The similarities seem to be
endless. Beginning with the obvious, Octavian and Cherubino are both played by a mezzo-
soprano en travesti. The other main characters include a philandering bass (The Count—Baron
Ochs), a pretty, young light-lyric soprano (Susanna—Sophie), and a mature, regal full-lyric
soprano (The Countess—The Marschalin). Both Cherubino and Octavian employ the theatrical
volumes about contemporary perceptions of sexuality. While Cherubino speaks to the lusty
relationship-driven woman.
This focus on relationship is highlighted in the contrast between Baron Ochs and
Octavian. Like the Cherubino and the Count, Octavian and Ochs are both sexually charged
characters. However, while the Count and Baron Ochs are both represented as scoundrels,
seeking opportunities to take advantage of the good-girl, Cherubino and Octavian are quite
different in their discussion of and interaction with the main female characters. Cherubino seems
to almost be drooling at any opportunity to touch a woman but Octavian is far more reserved.
Perhaps it is because Octavian is the ripe-old age of 17 while Cherubino is still passing through
puberty? More likely, the female body beneath the pants simply signified differently in Mozart’s
To highlight the male = sex, women = relationship dynamic, one only needs to analyze
the difference in Baron Ochs’ versus Octavian’s first interactions with Sophie. The Baron Ochs
is lewd, suggestive, and investigates Sophie like an animal, quite literally making references to
her teeth, bone structure, skin color, and even calls her a Kapricenschädel (strong-headed filly).
13
There is no mistaking what is on his mind as he makes suggestions for Octavian to “make eyes”
at Sophie and states: or , Commented [D 2]: There should be some sort of punctuation
here (I don’t have my book on me to check).
However, in Octavian’s exchange with Sophie, he refers to her not as an animal, but as a friend.
Und ich muβ jetzt als Ihren Freund and I must now as your friend
mich zeigen show myself
Und weiβ noch gar nicht wie! And know yet not quite how!
Mir ist so selig, so eigen, I feel so happy, so strange,
Daβ ich dich halten darf; That I can hold you;
noteworthy that in this same first encounter with Sophie, all of the men except Octavian seem to
be encouraging the inappropriate and vulgar behavior. Ochs’ servants chase and harass the
maidens of Faninal’s17 household. Even Faninal himself supports the Baron in his behavior,
caring only about the social and political advantages of his daughter’s marriage. Indeed,
Even from the beginning of the opera, Octavian’s exceptional nature is revealed in his
conversation with his lover, the Marschallin. In contemplating her own loveless marriage and
the impending marriage of her cousin, Baron Ochs, she implores Octavian:
Marshallin Marshallin
Oh, sei Er jetzt saft, sei Er gescheit oh, be now gentle, be sensible
und sanft und gut and gentle and good.
Nein, bitt’schön, sei Er nur nicht No, please be not like all men are!
17
Sophie’s father
14
wie alle Männer sind!
Octavian Octavian
Wie alle Männer? Like all men?
Marschallin Marshallin
Wie der Feldmarschall und de Vetter Ochs. Like the Field Marshall and cousin Ochs.
Octavian Octavian
Bichette! Poppet!
Marshallin Marshallin
Sei Er nur nicht, wie alle Männer sind. Be not like all men are.
Octavian Octavian
Ich weiβ nicht wie alle Männer sind. I know not how all men are.
Of course, Octavian does not know how all men are, nor does he behave like the other men in
Der Rosenkavalier because, simply, he isn’t a man. The female body of Octavian is loudly
signifying to the early 20th-century belief that a woman desires a relationship over sexual
intimacy. Even to the last moment of the opera, when Octavian chooses Sophie over the
Marschallin, this message is clear. Octavian’s encounters with the Marschallin have been sexual
whereas his encounters with Sophie have not been to this point (though there is the ever-present
understanding that there will be in the future). In choosing Sophie over the Marschallin,
Octavian solidifies the feminine desire for relationship to precede sexual relations, not vice
versa.
Octavian is the second lover of the opera—the good “guy” who never seems to get the girl. In
the mid-19th century this role was often occupied by the travesti for a multiplicity of reasons.
For one, these roles were usually depictions of boys or young men, and “the cross-dressed
15
female voice was heard as appropriate, even ‘realistic,’ for the adolescent boy who had not yet
undergone the voice changes of puberty.”18 But more importantly, as Naomi André discusses,
the shift of the female cross-dressing roles from that of the hero to the adolescent boy, marked a
shift in operatic convention. Rather than two females singing the parts of the hero and heroine,
the tenor assumed the role of the “masculine” hero, the soprano maintained the role of the
heroine (though now she frequently died by the end of the opera), and the mezzo-soprano was
This shift in roles coincides with the shift in scientific (and consequently, sociological)
understanding of the differences between male and female previously discussed. In short, this
shift meant that now operatic men needed to be realistically masculine and his lover, realistically
feminine. Like the modern day ultra-feminine cheerleader who dates the macho, ultra-masculine
football player, the operatic tenor/soprano dichotomy meant that the man was automatically
perceived as more masculine and the woman as more feminine. So, what to do with those
characters who lie someplace in the middle? Specifically, what to do with male characters that
aren’t very “manly?” Find a woman, put her in pants, and the middle ground is nicely negotiated.
Though it may seem that this compromise is akin to the schoolyard taunt of “you punch
like a girl,” the representation goes beyond accusations of lacking physical or motivational
strength, though this is certainly a consideration. Rather, this practice harkens back to the
Galenian belief in the vertical arrangement of the sexes. Since man is represented as the
manifestation of perfection and woman, an imperfect version of the male, the boy also became
representational of the incomplete man. Though he would achieve perfection in the future, until
18
André 103
19
André 103
16
his development was complete he was still a less-than-perfect man. As such, woman-as-boy or
boy-as-woman was a viable representation. In addition to physical immaturity, the boy (and by
consequence, the woman) was often unable to achieve his objective. He held little, and often no,
With this understanding it should come as no surprise that the role of Siebel is
represented by a woman. In fact, Siebel is just one of a number of operatic roles composed for
the “second lover”—the one who loves the girl but seems almost insignificant in comparison to
the tenor rival— including Urbain (Meyerbeer’s Les Huganots), Smeton (Donizetti’s Anna
Bolena) and Pierotto (Donizetti’s Linda di Chamounix). All are representations of a young man
In terms of voice type, all of these characters are played by mezzo-sopranos or contraltos
rather than the high soprano voice. As is evident by the preference for the tenor/soprano duo as
voice, Patricia Adkins-Chiti highlights how the low voice became synonymous with the gypsy
and the high voice with that of girls from well-bred families or the religiously pure nuns.20
Certainly this characterization carried over to the operatic stage as the soprano often plays the
part of the sweet, feminine, good girl and the mezzo-soprano the seductress or “naughty” girl.
While the trouser role obviously is not in the same character category as the “naughty”
girl, in reality, the trouser role became a sexual symbol in her own right, due to none other than
those role-defining pants. Unlike the billowing skirts worn by the soprano, the mezzo-soprano
20
Adkins-Chiti 65
17
woman-as-boy donned a pair of revealing trousers. While they certainly were not akin to today’s
hip-huggers, pants offered audience members a much better idea of a woman’s physical form
than did a skirt. As such, the trouser role truly did become a naughty girl. And what do we learn
about naughty girls? They don’t win. One needs only to revisit Carmen to learn that lesson.
And so we find Siebel—love sick and working so very hard to capture the attention of his
dear Marguerite. In his one aria, “Faites-lui mes aveux,” Siebel implores the batch of newly
picked flowers to carry his message of love to Marguerite. Unfortunately for him, Faust (played
by none other than the heroic tenor), via Méphistophélès, has left a case of jewels outside
Marguerite’s door and situates them directly next to Siebel’s pathetic bouquet. Of course,
Marguerite chooses the jewels and in so doing, establishes a metaphor for the tenor versus
Siebel stands by Marguerite but still never obtains her. The same goes for Anna Bolena’s
Smeton, though in the end, he loses his life. While we don’t know the end result for the dear
Siebel, the good news is that unlike the other mezzo-soprano “naughty girls,” at least he lasts to
The role of Nicklausse is exceptional in the realm of travesty roles. Many operatic
women cross dress as men to further the plot, most notably Leonora in Beethoven’s Fidelio and
Gilda in Verdi’s Rigoletto. However, Nicklausse complicates the matter by remaining a man
throughout the duration of the opera, with the exception of the prologue and epilogue. There is
never the concern that s/he will be discovered as cross-dressing because s/he isn’t. The Muse, as
a theoretically disembodied being, simply assumes the form of a man. With this being the case,
18
one wonders why Offenbach would choose to cast this role as a woman rather than a man. In
regards to plot, if the Muse is taking on the “form” of Hoffmann’s closest friend, then why
doesn’t the Muse simply become a man? Certainly a mythical creature is capable of such a thing.
One can presume that without the intervention of the Muse, Nicklausse undoubtedly would have
been performed by a male voice (likely a baritone if one examines the stereotypical “sidekick”
The answer may invariably lie in the age-old debate concerning the use of music and its
ability, nay, compulsion, to arouse softness in and ability to debase its listeners. This is certainly
Plato’s concern as he eliminates the music of the flute, lyres with three corners and complex
scales, and other many-stringed, curiously-harmonized instruments21 from his Republic. These Commented [D 3]: Shouldn’t this still go at the end of the
sentence?
instruments were capable of playing harmonies other than the Dorian and Phrygian, harmonies
known for arousing courage and temperance and used in militant situations. The other
harmonies are useless and perhaps even dangerous because they encourage “drunkenness and
softness and indolence [that] are utterly unbecoming the character of our guardians.”22 Any
And where is Nicklausse positioned in the debate for or against music? S/he is
unmistakably situated on the pro-music fence. In fact, there would be no opera without this
message. In the oft-omitted “Violin Aria,” Nicklausse’s objective is clearly to move Hoffmann
21
Plato 71
22
Plato 70
19
De cette corde éplorée. Of this weeping chord.
Elle console tes pleurs, It consoles your tears
Elle mêle ses douleurs It mixes its sadness
A ta douleur enivrée! To your drunken pain!
C’est l’amour vainqueur! It is the triumph of love
Poète, donne ton coeur! Poet, give your heart!
The reference to the violin is noteworthy in light of Plato’s elimination of the flute for its
music, beside the voice, is able to create such a “multiplicity of notes”? Or is able to bend
pitches and play any variation of scales?—none other than those of the string family, most
The violin remains a source of great consternation throughout the duration of the third
act. First brought into consciousness through Nicklausse’s touching aria extolling the virtues of
music and poetry, it also presents itself in the deadly encounter between Dr. Miracle and
Hoffmann’s lover, Antonia. In what is considered to be the highlight of the entire opera,24 the
violin proves to be the sinister instrument accompanying Antonia’s death. As Dr. Miracle
implores Antonia to sing with her mother, the stage directions indicate, “Il saisit un violin et
accompagne avec une sorte de fureur” (Grabbing a violin and accompanies with a sort of fury).
After Antonia hears her mother’s voice and Miracle works to convince her to join in singing, the
stage directions again indicate, “Miracle joue du violin avec furie” (Miracle plays the violin with
fury). It is precisely following this that Antonia resigns to Miracle’s enticing and sings to her
death. Once advocated as a source of great comfort and beauty, the violin now becomes part of a
violent undoing.
It is here that Nicklausse represented in the form of the female body is important.
Miracle is played by a bass or bass-baritone, often perceived as the most masculine of all voice
23
Plato 71
24
Dibbern 126
20
types. Conversely, Nicklausse is sung by a mezzo-soprano, the “low and melodious”25 feminine Commented [D 4]: Again, check position of footnote.
voice. Both use and are accompanied by the violin. However, Miracle demonstrates the violin’s
sinister abilities, and arguably, all instruments capable of creating a “multiplicity of notes,” while
Nicklausse extols them. In short, in addressing the qualities of music, the masculine exposes
Plato certainly believed women to be more prone to using the inappropriate, non-militant
music when he states, “Then these, I said, must be banished; even to women who have a
character to maintain they are of no use, and much less to men (emphasis added).”26 Though he
argues they are also worthless to the woman, men and women are placed on different planes.
Clearly women have a greater propensity to utilize the “harmonies expressive of sorrow.”27
treatment of Achilles in light of Metastasian operatic reform. When considering the story of
Achilles, modern audiences often think of the great warrior whose “Achilles heel” caused his
eventual demise. However, Enlightenment audiences were frequently presented with the
moment in which Achilles, who has been disguised in feminine attire, reveals his masculine
identity after Ulysses mingles weapons among jewels. In fact, it was the most frequently painted
scene from the hero’s life from the 16th through the 19th centuries. It was also the pivotal
25
Adkins-Chiti 65
26
Plato 70
27
Plato 70
21
Dunque è l’arme d’Achille? Ah! no; la sorte Is this the weapon for Achilles? Ah! no fate
Altre n’offre, più degne. A terra, a terra, Offers another, more worthy. To earth, to earth
[Gette la centra e va all’armi [Throws down the lyre and goes
portate co’ doni d’Ulisse.] towards the arms carried in with
the gifts of Ulysses.]
Vile stromento. All’onorato incarco Vile instrument. To the honoured charge
Dello scudo pesante [Imbraccia lo scudo.] Of the heavy shield [He puts on the
shield.]
Torni il braccio avvilito. In questa mano My arms regain strength. In this hand
Lampeggi il ferro. A rincomincio adesso The sword flashes. I begin now
[Impugna la spade] [He seizes the sword.]
A ravvisar me stesso. To recognize myself.
Heller argues the reason for this emphasis on the moment of masculine discovery—this
rejection of musical instruments and singing—is a response to 18th century opera critics who
were concerned about the affects of music and the associations between singing and
effeminacy.28 “The issue here is not merely that Achilles rejects feminine interests for more
typically masculine pursuits. By rejecting his skirt for armour and throwing down his lyre in
favor of a sword, he abandons the ambiguity of gender that was integral to the conventions of
seicento opera.”29 The message of Achille in Sciro is clear: music is equal to effeminacy. Commented [D 5]: What does this mean?
And thus we return to Nicklausse, the ambiguous and problematic, “in the form of a
man” character, represented in the body of a live woman. S/he not only extols the power of
music—that is the sole purpose of the Muse’s transformation. In light of such a strong advocacy
for music, it is logical that Offenbach would choose a woman to embody such a role.
represented in the body of a woman? Like Nicklausse, the Composer praises the power of music
28
Heller 567
29
Ibid. 567
22
Musik ist eine heilige Kunst, Music is a sacred art,
zu versammeln alle Arten von Mut Which brings together all varieties of courage
wie Cherubim um einen strahlenden Thron, like cherubim around a shining throne,
Und darum ist sie die heilige and for this reason it is the most holy
unter den Künsten! ` among the arts!
Die heilige Musik! The sacred music!
However, more than praising, the Composer worships music, this “sacred art,” as is evident in
the biblical reference to the cherubim. The cherubim were placed east entrance to the Garden of
Eden, along with the flaming sword, “to keep the way of the tree of life.”30 By referring to the
cherubim the Composer makes it clear, at least in his mind, that music is the gate to life eternal.
In making this religious connection to music, the Composer opens a whole new point of
discussion in addition to the Platonian and Greco- concern for music’s effeminate nature. Within
the realm of Christianity, the role of music and its legitimacy have oft been contested—some
scriptures and religious entities in support and others in refutation. The Torah clearly points to
instrumental music as debase for Jubal, a descendant of Cain, is “the father of all such as handle
the harp and organ”31 and in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians he plainly encourages the melody of
the heart, as opposed to the melody of the voice.32 However, the Psalms describe the praising of
God through instrumental music.33 Like music, is there any other figure in Christendom as
simultaneously praised and scorned as Mother Eve, she from whom all women descend? With
such a contested issue as the spiritual nature of music, is it any wonder that a woman would be
trouser role negotiates a space in which practicing composers, in this case, Offenbach and
30
Gn 3:24
31
Gn 4:21
32
Eph 5:19
33
Psalms 150
23
Strauss, can exist. While embracing music, for many, a philosophically feminine undertaking,
the actual composers still remain essentially male. Thus the male representation in combination
with the female body allows for the mutual existence of the feminine and masculine.
Conclusion
Trouser role, breeches part, the travesti—without even considering the individual
dramatic roles, the terms themselves indicates that which is truly essential: the female body
beneath. The pants as signifier simply inscribe meaning, a mark of gender on an already sexed
body. However, while we assume that the male or female body is a constant, the same society
that supplies meaning to the exteriority of gender also supplies meaning to the interiority of the
body. What it means to be “female” or “male,” “feminine” or “masculine,” has and will
continue to change. The trouser role is just one way that these meanings haunt the operatic
stage, beckoning audiences to not only listen, but to consider the body that remains.
24
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