文：司馬勤（Ken Smith） 編譯：李正欣

坐在酒店的大堂里，馬修·希爾沃克（Matthew Shilvock）用手機回放了一段排練的錄像，帶著一個牛津?qū)W生在學術(shù)上取得突破后般的殘余激情。屏幕里，女高音歌唱家卡門·詹納塔西奧（Carmen Giannattasio）攀登著仿造羅馬圣安杰洛城堡搭建的布景，中途停下來對著鏡頭唱歌；而后繼續(xù)攀登，停在標志性的天使雕塑旁，瞬間從布景的邊緣消失。希爾沃克微笑著說：“這么多‘托斯卡’都只是沖上山頂，唱，然后跳下。隨后，士兵們就踉踉蹌蹌地蹣跚上場，這把所有的戲劇性都澌滅了。”

導演肖娜·露西（Shawna Lucey）的《托斯卡》這個月在舊金山歌劇院上演。她充滿張力的處理手法與普契尼樂譜里的音符緊密相扣，契合自希爾沃克成為舊金山歌劇院的“掌門人”以來所擁護的、戲劇性和音樂深度相結(jié)合的“全面藝術(shù)”。希爾沃克·于2016年8月就任舊金山歌劇院院長一職時，只有39歲。他出生于英國基德明斯特，離伯明翰不到一個小時車程的城市；他來到美國，是為了在自身嚴謹?shù)呐＝虼髮W音樂學術(shù)與管理咨詢的美國式實用主義中取得平衡。

在40歲之前就接管一家大型歌劇院聽上去是個卓越的成就——不過希爾沃克的前任院長及恩師大衛(wèi)·高克利在30歲之前，就接掌了休斯敦大歌劇院。希爾沃克在馬薩諸塞大學阿姆赫斯特分校攻讀公共管理研究生時，通過美國歌劇協(xié)會實踐計劃被派到休斯敦。在高克利的辦公室當了一陣臨時助手后，他成為歌劇院的正式聘用職員。當高克利離開休斯敦前往舊金山歌劇院時，他帶上了希爾沃克。

從2007年高克利入主舊金山直到2016年退休，希爾沃克成了院長的“千里眼”“順風耳”。希爾沃克逐漸了解到舊金山歌劇院這家美國第二大歌劇院的復雜性：劇院有1000多名員工，每年預算為4700萬美元。2007年的舊金山歌劇院中國之行，希爾沃克與高克利隨行，也見證了高克利任期內(nèi)許多委約作品的世界首演，其中包括2008年的《接骨師之女》（

The Bonesetter’s Daughter

）——惠士釗（Stewart Wallace）根據(jù)舊金山小說家譚恩美的同名小說改編的歌劇作品，以及2016年盛宗亮的歌劇《紅樓夢》（

Dream of the Red Chamber

）——該劇首演后曾在香港藝術(shù)節(jié)及北京、長沙和武漢等地巡演。近如硅谷、遠似中國，希爾沃克不斷在世界各地尋找靈感，同時，他還繼承了高克利的宏愿，為劇院的新紀元重新設(shè)計規(guī)劃自己的路線。今年夏天，弗朗切斯卡·贊貝羅（Francesco Zambello）復排了美國版的《指環(huán)》。9月，希爾沃克又來到上海，觀看上海歌劇院與德國埃爾福特劇院在上海大劇院聯(lián)合演出的《漂泊的荷蘭人》（

Der fl iegende Holl?nder

）。在上海之旅的間隙，他見縫插針地思考著瓦格納歌劇與國際合作的可能性，以及如何在經(jīng)濟衰退期為劇目制作籌得資金，并吸引如今社交媒體時代的新觀眾。

舊金山歌劇院院長馬修·希爾沃克

可以談?wù)勀愕摹捌瘘c”嗎？

我在牛津大學基督堂學院主修音樂——確切地說應(yīng)該是音樂學。我自小熱愛音樂，4歲開始彈鋼琴，后來又學會大提琴與管風琴。一直以來，我深信自己將來必定會加入音樂這個行業(yè)。但是，我從來都不喜歡站在臺前，在聚光燈下炫技。或者這樣說，我喜歡演奏樂器，但不愿意以此為終身職業(yè)。另外，因為我同時會幾種樂器，總覺得自己無法專注于其一。12歲那年，我首次觀看歌劇，是格拉漢姆·維克（Graham Vick）為伯明翰一個小型歌劇團執(zhí)導的制作，那個表演團體正是今天伯明翰歌劇團（Birmingham Opera Company）的前身。這么多年過去，團隊依舊致力于藝術(shù)與觀眾的互動，演出極具參與性，觀眾甚至可以跟隨戲劇的發(fā)展四處走動。維克正是開拓這種突破性歌劇演出的領(lǐng)跑者。我依稀記得，當年演出的作品是斯蒂芬·奧利弗（Stephen Oliver）的《美女與野獸》（

Beauty and the Beast）

。那次的經(jīng)驗讓我了解到歌劇演出可以與現(xiàn)場觀眾建立起直接的聯(lián)系。在舊金山歌劇院，我們不可能讓觀眾游走于劇場中，但我們能營造出讓他們的感情或精神與舞臺融合的氛圍。歌劇不應(yīng)是被動的；如果我們把工作做好，觀眾會主動地投入其中，成為故事的一部分。

維克的那部制作，確實讓你在劇院中走來走去？

演出地點是伯明翰中央電視臺（Central Television Studios）的演播室。他們真的占用了四個錄影棚，讓觀眾跟隨劇情的發(fā)展，從一個房間走到另一個房間。維克后來也繼續(xù)著這類風格，比如借用伯明翰的工廠作為表演場地。當我累積了更多歌劇觀劇體驗，發(fā)覺自己愛上了歌劇這門藝術(shù)。后來在牛津，我更明白了藝術(shù)的復雜性，期望把歌劇的千絲萬縷整理為一體。

那時候你有戲劇的背景或興趣嗎？

其實沒有。我父母喜愛音樂，他們當然鼓勵我。但我從來都沒有過真正的劇場經(jīng)驗。我猜，歌劇之所以吸引我，是因為它的復雜性與多重性。要把一切都融合在一起，你必須找到徹底的、共性的一刻。

那是你在牛津?qū)W習到的一部分嗎？

做大學畢業(yè)論文時，我專攻法國巴洛克時期研究。牛津圖書館的藏書之中包括很多古籍，甚至有呂利（Jean-Baptiste Lully）的第一版印刷總譜、手抄稿與改編樂譜。當年，呂利的歌劇只在倫敦演過一次，但他歌劇的舞臺實踐（performance practice）是通過室內(nèi)樂改編而廣為流傳的。

這個話題非常有預見性。時至今日，喜歡法國巴洛克的觀眾的確增長了。

是的，這很有趣，但牛津鼓勵學習的過程多于實際的內(nèi)容。你要花時間在圖書館里去深入研究某個觀點，同時也為自己定下方向。牛津的老師不會具體指出“去閱讀書中這幾個章節(jié)”，他們會說“就莫扎特的鋼琴協(xié)奏曲寫一篇論文”。你得自己去選擇論點，并構(gòu)思文章的架構(gòu)。

牛津畢業(yè)后到你在休斯敦工作前，又經(jīng)歷了什么？

我曾投考過英國的各大歌劇院，他們對于我的到訪很友好，也樂于為我更深入了解歌劇行業(yè)提供具體資訊。但是，英國的歌劇院實在沒有任何空缺，即便在今天也如此，因為歌劇院本身就不多，每當有人受聘，往往就會留在這一崗位直至退休。后來，我在一家小型的管理咨詢公司工作了兩年，隨后去美國進修公共管理碩士。我靜心以待，期望終有一天可以投身歌劇這個行業(yè)。不同的工作經(jīng)驗讓我拓展了本來狹窄的學術(shù)視野。這家咨詢公司與英國機構(gòu)合作，舉辦了一系列研討會——焦點是為了強化與整合供應(yīng)鏈——他們想利用音樂激發(fā)到會者，讓他們心情愉悅。我接到的任務(wù)是：“馬修，你在大學念音樂。幫我們研究研究，好嗎？”我剛從牛津畢業(yè)，能怎么辦呢？于是我撰寫了一篇長達6萬字的研究音樂與大腦的論文。我找來多本科學期刊，閱讀神經(jīng)學文獻，還參考了大英博物館在英國北部的館藏文獻。當我自豪地交出論文時，老板給了我一個絕對恐慌的表情——他想要的，不過是幾首好聽的歌曲。這是一個“弄不清楚目標觀眾”的極好例子。

在英國時，我曾聽說過美國歌劇協(xié)會（Opera America）有實踐計劃，為有志投身歌劇行業(yè)的年輕人提供實習機會，但他們不能安排簽證。我一旦在美國就讀，情況就不同了。再次重申，公共管理課程也讓我學會把想法濃縮至三個要點，而不是用3萬字進行論證。那些曾受苦于我長篇累牘電子郵件的人一定會認為我沒有很好地學習“精簡”。

來休斯敦之前，你對大衛(wèi)·高克利（David Gockley）有什么了解？

我當然聽說過他：一位鼎鼎大名的創(chuàng)新者，他提倡新作品，帶領(lǐng)休斯敦影響整個歌劇世界。我本來不是跟他一起工作的，那不是歌劇協(xié)會計劃的一部分。我當時被派至休斯敦大歌劇院跟戴安妮·佐拉（Diane Zola）學習，她是歌劇院工作室（Opera Studio）的負責人。大概過了一半實習期，有一天我被邀請到大衛(wèi)的辦公室談一談。一直以來，他都會聘用行政實習生，而當時他急需一個人在短期內(nèi)填補這個空缺。最后，他正式聘用了我。我覺得自己太幸福了，像做夢一樣，與這位偉大的歌劇策劃人共事了14年。

從休斯敦至舊金山，就像地殼移動般的劇變。舊金山歌劇院不是大衛(wèi)根據(jù)自己想法所構(gòu)建的藝術(shù)機構(gòu)，甚至可以說有時候較為混亂。對于你來說，又有什么變化？

你可能認為休斯敦是更大的文化沖擊，但加利福尼亞州令我驚訝。得克薩斯州最引以為榮的是當?shù)厝舜藷崆椤⒕Τ渑?，你會被他們所牽動。面積廣大的得克薩斯州色彩豐富、熱情大膽，不同于我以往見過的任何東西。加利福尼亞州則多一點歐陸情懷，可是總是感覺與世隔絕，實際距離更像是天各一方。從我的事業(yè)上來看，能到舊金山工作，讓我開拓了很多新的領(lǐng)域。大衛(wèi)在休斯敦工作35年，對于歌劇院方方面面的運作都了如指掌。我負責幫助他執(zhí)行某些特別項目，但都是在我已經(jīng)熟悉的領(lǐng)域。舊金山的一切對我們來說都是新鮮的，大衛(wèi)嘗試了解歌劇院的運作、鋪排未來的計劃、尋找策略性的實踐。突然間，我肩負起新的角色，我的任務(wù)包括研究歌劇院的日常運作、財政預算（舊金山的預算規(guī)模是休斯敦的三至四倍），甚至還得洞悉需要面對的政治壓力。工會的勢力在這里根深蒂固，足以影響任何決策。于是，我成了大衛(wèi)的“千里眼”與“順風耳”，這使我以前所未有的方式近距離地與他待在一起。不同于休斯敦短暫的實習工作，在舊金山，他會不斷地分配更多工作給我。

你在舊金山歌劇院的職業(yè)軌跡又是怎樣的？

我有過五六個職務(wù)，但具體的稱謂相差無幾，只是順序有所改變。一開始，我負責“特別項目”，包括直播與媒體策略。到了2008年，我接管的范圍擴張至樂團、合唱團與舞蹈團，以及演員工會與合唱團的運作。再過了兩年，我的職責又延伸至宣傳與教育。接任院長一職的不久之前，我還負責監(jiān)督籌款部門的工作。我的職責覆蓋了整個歌劇院，我很感激大衛(wèi)對我的信任：他讓我擔任了一個“通才”（generalist）的角色。在歌劇這一行，這種機會很難得。到了某個階段，你往往要做出取舍——選角總監(jiān)、制作總監(jiān)或是負責籌款。

歌劇院的一把手的確應(yīng)當是個通才——了解每個部門的需要，但不必熟知每一個運作的細節(jié)。聽起來，這些年來，好像有人一直在悉心栽培你。然而，這并不能保證你會得到院長這一職務(wù)?？梢悦枋鲆幌赂鑴≡禾暨x院長的過程嗎？

大衛(wèi)打算退休的消息，很早就放出來了。歌劇院董事局為此成立了專項小組，認真對待這項工作。他們花了很多時間決定歌劇院未來的愿景，設(shè)想他們心目中理想的領(lǐng)導者，用了很長時間探討歌劇院的領(lǐng)導架構(gòu)——應(yīng)該只有一人，還是兩人？他們也請教了其他歌劇院，以參照不同的行政架構(gòu)。然后他們對外宣布了一個公開的、全面的國際招聘。一直以來，大家都有清楚的共識，我需要跟其他人一同應(yīng)征、面試，沒有“早已預定”的捷徑。

他們聘請你的時候，有沒有解釋為什么選中你？

問得好。我前面也說過，自己花了10年時間躲在幕后，從來沒有試圖把自己放在聚光燈下。我猜，某些董事局成員也是這樣看待我的，因此質(zhì)疑我能否脫胎換骨。到了最后一輪甄選，他們詢問候選人關(guān)于歌劇院未來十年的前景規(guī)劃、在社區(qū)里應(yīng)扮演的角色等，我當時的雄辯言辭令他們刮目相看。但是，這仍然是一個非常不尋常的決定。從前曾有院內(nèi)“接棒”的案例——1953年，時任舊金山歌劇院院長梅羅拉（Gaetano Merola）退休，院內(nèi)在職的阿德勒（Kurt Adler）接任——但這種情況現(xiàn)在十分罕見。這個行業(yè)并不支持提攜內(nèi)部人員。做出這個任命決定很重要的一點是，它不僅讓我，而且讓整個領(lǐng)導團隊發(fā)揮了集體智慧，為公司的未來建立了框架。要搞清楚歌劇院的整體運作需要花3年時間。如果你還在認識基本操作，同時又要兼顧未來五年的計劃，真的要浪費很多時間才能把項目真正做出來。我可以代表我今天的團隊說，我們不需要從零開始整理瑣碎的問題，便可以找到解決方案。

大衛(wèi)當年的核心哲學與關(guān)注重點，到了今天還同樣適用嗎？它們需要為未來重新調(diào)整嗎？

我從大衛(wèi)身上學到的最重要的概念就是平衡。大衛(wèi)有很遠大的藝術(shù)抱負，但他從不會任意妄為。他往往會考慮整個演出季劇目的平衡及財政預算的平衡。這種見解在現(xiàn)在尤其重要，因為經(jīng)濟不景氣，一切都顯得更加脆弱。我認為十年來，最大的變化就是大家如何預測什么可行、什么不可行。我們設(shè)法對這門沒有實質(zhì)與絕對的藝術(shù)行業(yè)，從中預測出可靠、絕對的結(jié)果?？赡苣銖那皶邪盐?，如果做了X，那么Y就會出現(xiàn)；但這種想法到了現(xiàn)在(尤其是2008年過后)，就不再靈驗了。一個制作的票賣得好壞與否，肯定有特定的算法，但這種算法跟我們常用的思維不一樣。去年的《茶花女》盡管有很棒的樂評，可我們只售出了七成門票；約翰·亞當斯（John Adams）的《西部女郎們》（

Girls of the Golden West

）沒有獲得很高評價，但票房卻很好，是當年秋季劇目中第二暢銷的制作。我們的團隊一起探索如何在更難預估受眾反應(yīng)的情況下，創(chuàng)建出一個可控的商業(yè)模式。

電影人威廉·戈德曼（William Goldman）曾經(jīng)這樣描述大電影公司怎樣預測賣座率：“無人知曉?！闭l能猜得到，2008年舊金山歌劇院搬演《接骨師之女》后，世界經(jīng)濟會完全崩潰？

經(jīng)濟蕭條改變了觀眾購票的習慣——幸好沒有影響到捐助人，但演出季套票銷售受到很大的壓力。最近我也想到，以蘋果手機的崛起為起點，移動媒體的影響極大地改變了人們的娛樂消費與生活方式。這是一個令人恐慌的時代，也是個令人興奮的時代——因為我們越來越意識到，盡管大環(huán)境惡劣，我們還是有獨一無二的價值，但關(guān)鍵在于如何改變大眾的認知與期望。

早在20世紀90年代，我首次造訪休斯敦與舊金山時，人們對制作的期望值相當清晰。在休斯敦，觀眾進場來看令他們感動的演出；而在舊金山，歌劇迷的到來是為了欣賞一流的歌唱家，制作的好與壞顯得不那么重要。今天，舊金山的觀眾來看的是歌劇制作。現(xiàn)在的“平衡”不同了，部分原因是因為大衛(wèi)，但也反映了時代變遷。

我堅信我們在舞臺上的工作——一些具有試驗性的、富有質(zhì)感的、“絕對舊金山”的制作——與21世紀的心態(tài)非常一致，即你發(fā)現(xiàn)了一件好東西之后，就會推薦給其他人。還有，我們所做的某些具有特殊性的制作與舊金山日益增長的科技受眾息息相關(guān)。

比如說，歌劇《史蒂夫·喬布斯的變革之路》 。

是的，某些主題很明顯，如這部梅森·貝茨（Mason Bates）關(guān)于喬布斯的新作品提醒我們，歌劇仍然可以為今天的社會增添價值。但實際上，這種價值來自觀眾，因為他們可以在舞臺上看到關(guān)于自己的東西，無論那是個關(guān)于“科技”的故事，或是《茶花女》。

來歌劇院看《喬布斯》的觀眾愿意來看托斯卡跳崖嗎？事實上，有沒有一群特定的“舊金山歌劇院觀眾”，還是你們在孕育多個不同的受眾群？

我希望受眾見證我們把充滿人性的故事帶上舞臺后，會信任我們。今天，要推廣某一個歌劇劇目，實在艱難。公眾對于作品名稱感覺陌生，就很難引起共鳴，更不用提個別歌唱家或指揮家了。因此，歌劇院要成為一個贏得觀眾信任的地方。他們深知來到我們這里，必定會體驗到催人奮進的動力。票價可能會令他們望而卻步——在舊金山這個昂貴的城市，很多人都習慣花錢，但我不能確定他們是否愿意花錢來嘗試不同的體驗。因此，我們必須超越固有的、刻板式介紹劇目的思維，比如吆喝：“來看雅納切克的《耶奴法》！”——相反地，必須向受眾解釋《耶奴法》對你會有怎么樣的影響。舞臺上所展現(xiàn)的只不過是一種方式，能讓觀眾看過演出后而有所觸動。

在與舊金山歌劇院相鄰的舊金山交響樂團，邁克爾·蒂爾森·托馬斯（Michael Tilson Thomas）與觀眾就建立了這種信任。當然，在演奏貝多芬或馬勒的音樂會中穿插一部雅納切克的作品，問題不大。然而要花一整個晚上觀看《耶奴法》就不一樣了。

讓我重申“信任”這個詞語。你得贏得觀眾的信任——就算他們對于歌劇劇目、故事情節(jié)、演員陣容甚至演唱語言一無所知，還是會踏進歌劇院。在這里，他們可以找到一些埋在心底里的感情。我指的是，到了《波希米亞人》的最后一刻你會流淚，不是因為咪咪要病死了，而是看到一段無法延續(xù)的愛情，令你感同身受。這就是歌劇的力量。

一切都回歸故事本身。你必須對劇中人物有所共鳴。

對我來說，歌劇的故事從來都不僅是個劇情簡介。我經(jīng)常開玩笑說，歌劇之所以如此強大，是因為并不總是那么精彩?；蛘呶覒?yīng)該說，情節(jié)不夠緊湊。它們不是希區(qū)柯克的戲劇。如果真的是這樣緊湊，肯定可以吸引我們，但我們未必會投入感情。

《托斯卡》差不多可以算是希區(qū)柯克式通俗劇，但舞臺演出經(jīng)常失手。

是的，但就算是《托斯卡》，也還有空間能讓你把自己的生命經(jīng)歷代入其中。你可以閉起眼睛把自己想象成舞臺上的一個人物?？春嗟聽柕母鑴⊥瑯邮歉星橹?，但那些故事也一樣是情感的載體。

普契尼與亨德爾的音樂風格有很大反差。當你搬演那些超過百年的劇目，會不會套用什么公式，讓他們到今天還能引人入勝？

我對此思考了很多。本年度演出季開始的時候，有人說：“來吧，馬修，你已經(jīng)擔任院長一年了，告訴我們你對歌劇院的藝術(shù)愿景吧?！蔽以剿伎歼@個問題，就越意識到這個問題鮮少有人可以作答。我可以舉出一系列計劃——比如說，雅納切克的全套歌劇——但那些計劃牽扯到很多因素，所以未必可行。資金可能無法跟上，制作可能無法安排。大衛(wèi)有他的藝術(shù)愿景，因為他擁有多年的經(jīng)驗。你明白他的美學觀，以及他會優(yōu)先考慮哪些事。很多歌劇院院長都會倚賴過去的功績，就如同參照后視鏡中所映出的東西前進?？墒俏覜]有這樣的資歷（大笑）。

與其提供演出季計劃，不如直截了當?shù)卣務(wù)剬ξ覀兏鑴≡簛碚f什么是重要的。我把我們的藝術(shù)哲學歸結(jié)為三個支柱。第一，創(chuàng)意優(yōu)勢。因為我們的規(guī)模、歷史和地理位置，在這個極具豐富思考的領(lǐng)域中，我們必須塑造藝術(shù)的未來，并在我們擁有的資源中發(fā)現(xiàn)創(chuàng)造力，包括新作品、制作與演員。第二，反映受眾群。我們喜歡把自己看成一個世界級的歌劇公司——我也希望我們是，但是我們85%的觀眾來自加州北部。我們講的故事應(yīng)該與當?shù)鼐o密相關(guān)，不論是《喬布斯》《西部女郎們》或是我們制作《托斯卡》的手法，確保我們此時此地的觀眾可以從中得到啟發(fā)。我們不能只為了“傳達文化訊息”而做歌??；訊息也必須有機性地由我們的觀眾自身發(fā)散出來。這也得益于我們社群可以孕育并支持高水平本地藝術(shù)家與技術(shù)人員，這不是世界各地都通行的情況。在這里，我們真正可以宣揚“本土”制作，并邀請觀眾欣賞制作中的多個層次。第三，“全面藝術(shù)”——并不是模仿瓦格納“整體藝術(shù)”（

Gesamtkunstwerk

），這個德文詞語并不簡練。從前我還以為這句話是老生常談，后來發(fā)現(xiàn)并非如此。歌劇制作要成功的話，必須是全面的成功。如果有人離場時跟我說，“閉上眼睛我都可以欣賞演出”，我會覺得很失望。如果其中的一部分沒做好，就是整體的失敗。我們需要成功地把藝術(shù)、戲劇、視覺與故事都融合在一起，才能締造魔力。我們近期搬演的《惡魔羅勃》（

Roberto Devereux

），觀眾反應(yīng)熱烈。是的，除了我們請來桑德拉·拉德凡諾夫斯基（Sondra Radvanovsky）以外，也包括舞臺、指揮、與其他演員的互動、節(jié)奏與微妙的細節(jié)。每個元素都有助于創(chuàng)造觀眾的反應(yīng)。如何考慮制作與選角，才能保持這么高的水平？我寧愿少搬演幾個制作，但把它們每個都做得精致巧妙，好過追求數(shù)量卻把這些元素邊緣化。

你們的“美國‘指環(huán)’”是“本土制作”的例子嗎？

那是一個經(jīng)歷多年的大計劃。最初，大衛(wèi)與弗朗切斯卡·贊貝羅在休斯敦討論過這個新制作。后來，華盛頓國家歌劇院開始主導。當大衛(wèi)接任舊金山歌劇院時，他又再次參與其中。一直以來，人們總是認為《指環(huán)》應(yīng)該與美國人找到共鳴，但是，處理手法不該刻意地嚴厲。其實，當我們進行這個計劃時，很多東西都被刪減了。《萊茵的黃金》的背景是美國的淘金熱，原先的制作舞美設(shè)計充斥著那個年代與地域的符號。我們把它們刪減了，讓你感覺到一絲美國西部風情，但又故意不太明顯，好讓不熟悉當年歷史的觀眾不會困惑?！侗娚竦狞S昏》的背景是未來一個專制的國度，雖然構(gòu)思源自美國歷史與思想主義——也包括某些程度上的政治元素。隨著時間的推移，你也可以用“自然主義‘指環(huán)’”或“女權(quán)主義‘指環(huán)’”來描述這個制作——有人用過這些形容詞，它們跟“美國‘指環(huán)’”同樣貼切。說真的，真正使它成功的還是故事的敘述。弗朗切斯卡執(zhí)導的《指環(huán)》與瓦格納所敘述的故事完全吻合。觀眾們不必有任何隔閡，對我來說，這就是一部偉大的作品和令人困惑的作品之間的區(qū)別。如果觀眾必須弄清楚到底發(fā)生了什么——無論是歷史背景還是當代背景——倘若要他們停下來思索導演為何這樣選擇的話，歌劇的魔力就消失了。在過去一百年里，歌劇變得太知性主義。當你試圖思考導演的意圖，你就失去了體驗歌劇靈魂的機會。

過分的知性主義（over-intellectualism）不僅僅在舞臺上出現(xiàn)。

對。很多人討論歌劇的時候也是這樣，他們對于歌劇的看法也同樣被知性主義所駕馭。無論你多了解演員，要是周邊的人開始爭議不同的“聲音類型”（voice types)，或回顧1952年在大都會歌劇院演出元帥夫人的演員，你頓時會覺得自己渺小不已。當然，這種高談闊論對于歌劇來說，既美妙又重要。但它不能變成歌劇藝術(shù)的主導，因為很多人會因此被拒之門外。歌劇現(xiàn)在好像困在死角一般，大眾認為必須“懂”歌劇才可以走進劇院。當然，你想深入這個行當是一件好事，但這大可不必。我們公布的信息和營銷，一再地強調(diào)你不需要預先認知歌劇也可以來看演出。現(xiàn)在我們觀賞歌劇的時候，都帶著嚴肅虔誠的氣氛，這甚至不是我們曾經(jīng)的出發(fā)點。《天堂電影院》（

Cinema Paradiso

）中有一場戲，整個社區(qū)都聚在意大利南部的這家電影院里，他們聊天、吃喝、調(diào)情，有些人也在專心看電影。生活的多彩多姿在觀眾席與銀幕上同時出現(xiàn)。從前的歌劇院就是這樣的。也許我們沒有機會重現(xiàn)這一場景，但最起碼我們要記得，在歷史長河的一大段歲月里，歌劇曾經(jīng)非常普及。

今年馬德里舉行的世界歌劇論壇上提出了一個問題：如今我們真的可以負擔起歌劇這門藝術(shù)嗎？剛才你談及財政問題，但這又如何影響你們的經(jīng)濟架構(gòu)呢？

歌劇永遠不會有利可圖，起碼票房銷售無法平衡開支。在過去400年來，情況沒有改善。加州有很多科技公司其實也賺不到錢，但其中的一些仍被認為是成功的。你看看風險資本被注入科技公司，這與慈善家捐款給藝術(shù)制作真的如此不同嗎？這只是回報形式不一樣罷了。

回溯1940年代，維吉爾·湯姆森（Virgil Thomson）曾經(jīng)發(fā)表文章闡述大都會歌劇院的困難：很多人認為它是一個失敗的盈利機構(gòu)而不是一流的花錢機構(gòu)。

我們的捐助人中有不少慷慨的慈善家，我也逐漸明白，彼此的聯(lián)系是雙向的。到了今天，人家捐錢支持藝術(shù)，不再被視為社會貢獻的“正確”做法。在很多人的心里，醫(yī)療或教育要重要得多。人家捐贈給藝術(shù)，是因為他們熱愛藝術(shù)，也代表他們該從中得到回報。我們剛建立了“制作人圈”（Producers Circle），讓捐贈超過10萬的慈善家們有機會深入了解歌劇制作。我們其中的一位捐助者也是百老匯制作人，我跟她討論百老匯模式時得到這個啟發(fā)。很多高額捐款人也同樣熱心藝術(shù)，希望參與其中，所以我們嘗試構(gòu)建“主人翁意識”（sense of ownership），邀請他們有機會參與創(chuàng)作。如果我們引進一位主要慈善家或投資者、制作人，正如本季新的《托斯卡》制作，他們可以從參與計劃的第一天就跟我們一起工作。他們出席設(shè)計會議或首天的排練，一點都不會影響我們的工作。他們應(yīng)該與制作建立起直接關(guān)聯(lián)，因為他們是其中的一分子，正如在舞臺演出的演員一樣。我們現(xiàn)在正在進一步籌劃，讓這種思維與實踐更為一體化。

身在加州創(chuàng)建這個系統(tǒng)應(yīng)該容易得多吧？

幾年前，我到某個科技公司開會，那家公司算是典型的北加州科技公司，辦公室布置簡約、玻璃墻密布、員工拿著自己的蘋果筆記本來來回回，入口還有人輪流調(diào)制香濃咖啡。正是你想象中的那種科技公司。出來的時候，我心里這樣想：“哇，真希望我在這樣一家創(chuàng)意公司里工作?！彪S即又反駁自己：“我在說什么？” 我們在舞臺上所做的是人類夢寐以求的最不可思議的創(chuàng)造性事物之一，但是，制造這種藝術(shù)的過程往往缺乏創(chuàng)意。我們的工作只圍繞于解決問題，而非開創(chuàng)性。

單靠創(chuàng)意，不能保證效能。

同意，而每一次我離開歐洲藝術(shù)節(jié)，心里總是欣喜但又沮喪，因為你能看到那些藝術(shù)團體帶來的高度創(chuàng)造性演出。他們大膽嘗試、接受挑戰(zhàn)，有時候獲得空前成功，有時候會一敗涂地，但觀眾們還是欣然接受。你會在艾克斯-普羅旺斯看到一部效果遜色的制作，但這不會影響演員或主創(chuàng)明年回來與否的抉擇。冒險會帶來激情，大家也都理解充滿了風險。對于美國的歌劇院來說，尤其是那些固定資產(chǎn)異常復雜的大型機構(gòu)，是不允許失敗的。財政運作模式與受眾敏感度都是這樣：一旦你做錯了一件事，立即會引發(fā)觀眾流失。但如果你不冒險，整個機構(gòu)會變得暮氣沉沉，你失去了處于成敗邊緣的興奮感和隨之會發(fā)生的可能性。身在硅谷，令我覺得特別振奮，因為在這里有特別的創(chuàng)意，而研發(fā)的成果可以改變世界。我不斷地探索我們參與其中的不同方法。

在社群參與方面，舊金山是社交媒體的重鎮(zhèn)。這對于拓展觀眾有起作用嗎？

現(xiàn)在我們的社交媒體可以接觸多種聲音，下一個階段就是把不同聲音拼在一起，制造出令人鼓舞的對話。歌劇院應(yīng)該允許觀眾在官網(wǎng)進行評論嗎？（大笑）我認為，這正如專業(yè)樂評與公眾之間進行互動一樣，存在很多有趣的可能性。你是樂評人兼記者，你怎么看？會不會太冒險？

在早期，互聯(lián)網(wǎng)引起了一些令人興奮的討論。但你不要忘記，是用戶原創(chuàng)內(nèi)容（user-generated content）促使特朗普入主白宮。于是，網(wǎng)上對話與言論貶值了。很多網(wǎng)上刊物故意邀請公眾回饋意見，但只限于某些內(nèi)容或文章。很多論壇還設(shè)有管理員，因此會過濾“灌水”或電腦自動留言。

未開發(fā)的可能性是令人興奮的。我接任院長之后，意識到我必須要要會自己動手。最起碼，得能一起參與其中（大笑）。此前我有時候會上臉書（Facebook），但從沒有上過INS（Instagram，或稱照片墻）與推特（Twitter）。于是我開始訓練自己善用社交媒體。INS是最佳載體，因為可以用圖片直觀我們的工作；推特多涉及的是想法與理念，因為我是歌劇院院長，把個人的想法推出去未必合適。還有，推特的性質(zhì)讓你很難區(qū)分“個人”與“公眾機構(gòu)”的身份，因此作為面向公眾的社交平臺不太適用。但是INS能讓大眾有機會看到平常無法體驗的歌劇院后臺風景，比如，從臺側(cè)拍攝的謝幕場景；某些演出的半場休息時，我們故意開啟大幕，讓觀眾能看到換布景的復雜程序；我們更歡迎公眾提問互動。有些人希望保持舞臺神秘感，但更多的人對于后臺十分好奇，想知道一切的運作。我每兩周都寫一則“跟馬修一起后臺探秘”（Backstage with Matthew）的推送，每則介紹一個人，比如制帽匠，訪問他們需要什么資歷與經(jīng)驗才可以從事這行，還有成品在舞臺上的功用。當你觀賞《托斯卡》的時候，就會更了解歌劇演出是多么復雜；看到演員頭戴的帽子，又能近距離欣賞服裝制作的精巧工藝。其實能有很多不同切入點可以讓大家找出話題。當然，歌唱是歌劇最重要的部分，但你可以通過其他途徑走近歌劇世界，而不需要一定會區(qū)分抒情女高音與戲劇性女高音。去年我家的廚房要重新裝修，水管工問我從事什么行業(yè)。我告訴他我的職業(yè)后，他說，“這跟我的世界毫不相干?！钡一卮鸬溃骸捌鋵?，歌劇院劇場里有很多人跟你的工作大同小異?！?/p>

2007年你首次到訪中國，當時你才在舊金山任職?？梢哉?wù)劗斈甑穆贸碳澳愕钠谕麊幔?/p>

當時我在舊金山只工作了一年多，談不上有何期望。但給我留下最深印象的，是中國的快速發(fā)展與樂觀預期。北京國家大劇院當時還是個工地，我們戴著安全帽在那里走了一圈；在上海，我還記得在浦東被東方藝術(shù)中心的龐大規(guī)模所震撼。當年的環(huán)境很特別，傳統(tǒng)的西方歌劇對于中國來說還算是一個相對新的事物。我感覺到大家談到歌劇都無比興奮并有所期待。今年9月我重臨上海大劇院的后臺，贊嘆于劇院大規(guī)模的先進設(shè)備。就算這些劇院現(xiàn)在還沒有天天搬演歌劇，我仍能看到無限潛力?，F(xiàn)在上海又在籌備建造新的歌劇院——其實是兩座新歌劇院，包括上海音樂學院歌劇院——這令我驚訝。然而，上海是一個擁有2400萬人口的大都會，按比例來看是合理的，它們可以推動歌劇藝術(shù)的巨大發(fā)展。

你首次以歌劇制作人的身份與中國合作是《接骨師之女》，這也是大衛(wèi)·高克利在舊金山的首批委約作品之一。這部歌劇如何把舊金山與中國連接起來？

這個例子很有趣，因為《接骨師之女》糅合了中國與美籍華裔元素，卻展現(xiàn)了純

粹的美國美學觀。我們也聘請了一個相當中國化的制作團隊。在這部作品里，我們開始認識到東西方的不同見解：創(chuàng)作過程的差異，對流程把控的差異，還有建立關(guān)系的差異。但是因為作曲家與編劇都是美國人，整個歌劇制作與中國的互動不像后來的《紅樓夢》那般深入。

在中國，人們對舊金山歌劇院更關(guān)注，正是因為《紅樓夢》這部歌劇，也是大衛(wèi)最后的委約之一。你似乎從一開始就更直接地與中國聯(lián)系在一起。

《紅樓夢》讓我更清楚地了解到美中觀點的不同，尤其在敘事方面。我明白、也尊重《接骨師之女》這個故事，是關(guān)于華人的移民史；但《紅樓夢》是中國文學巨著，我們?nèi)〔挠谶@部小說，在一個西方語境里把中國文化傳承重新詮釋在舞臺上，因此創(chuàng)作與制作過程都完全不同，包括舞臺上的表達方式、與設(shè)計團隊的合作方式、敘事的節(jié)奏。我再次發(fā)現(xiàn)，最重要的就是建立關(guān)系。我第二次造訪上海，更加明白建立互信的重要性。

這兩部作品籌備的過程具體有什么區(qū)別？

《接骨師之女》比較接近美國的傳統(tǒng)模式：劇本與音樂都寫好了，然后聘請制作團隊?！都t樓夢》更為有機，音樂、舞臺設(shè)計與戲劇文學都是互動式同時推進的。我們改編的是中國珍視的國寶級經(jīng)典，通過整合文本、音樂、方向和設(shè)計的不同詮釋，旨在傳達一個共同的信息，我相信這有助于創(chuàng)造出更具普遍吸引力的東西。

舊金山歌劇院的《紅樓夢》是首部引進中國進行多個城市巡演的西方現(xiàn)代歌劇。你們未來有什么計劃？舊金山歌劇院如何展望與中國的聯(lián)系？

歌劇《紅樓夢》新聞發(fā)布會，從左至右：葉錦添、舊金山歌劇院董事局委員何吳筱英、希爾沃克、盛宗亮、賴聲川

無論是舊金山這個城市還是歌劇院，與全球建立起相互關(guān)系都處于有利的位置。因為我們與上海有著緊密的聯(lián)系——多年來在政治與經(jīng)濟層面合作密切，兩個城市更有機會舉辦一些文化融合的項目。我對中國扶持歌劇發(fā)展的步伐感到敬畏。這次觀看《漂泊的荷蘭人》的觀眾層很年輕，來自不同背景，又十分投入其中。他們對于舞臺上發(fā)生的一切都深感興趣，他們的熱情鼓舞人心。我們有很多可以探索的機會，比如說傳統(tǒng)劇目以及新作品。通過歌劇《紅樓夢》在中國的成功，我有信心，無論這部作品到哪里，都能讓觀眾找到共鳴。建立關(guān)系的過程需要大家一起探索，也不需要確定每一步的方向。當你投入了寶貴時間、思維與合作精神，必有所得。舊金山歌劇院是一個龐大的、擁有悠久歷史的藝術(shù)機構(gòu)，我們可以幫助中國新建立的歌劇院團與劇院進一步發(fā)展，但這種合作不只是單向的?！都t樓夢》這個案例讓我們明白，到了今天，很多精彩絕倫的東方故事，還沒有機會與西方觀眾結(jié)緣，而歌劇這門藝術(shù)可以把這些故事敘述出來，讓全世界欣賞。我很興奮，期待下一次會有哪些故事搬上歌劇舞臺。

Sitting in his hotel lobby, Matthew Shilvock replays a rehearsal video on his mobile phone with the residual fervor of an Oxford student making a scholarly breakthrough. On the screen, the soprano Carmen Giannattasio climbs a mock-up of Rome’s Castel Sant’Angelo before stopping midway and singing toward the camera. Continuing her climb, she pauses at the iconic angel sculpture, then disappears from the edge. “So many Toscas simply rush to the top, sing, and jump,” Shilvock says gleefully. “Then the soldiers stumble in befuddled and it just saps out all the drama.”

Director Shawna Lucey’s staging, set to run through October at San Francisco Opera, ties a taut dramatic leash to Puccini’s score, fully befitting the “total artwork” of theatrical immediacy and musical depth that Shilvock has espoused since becoming the company’s General Director in August 2016 at age 39. Born in Kidderminster, England,less than an hour from Birmingham, Shilvock came to the United States in search of a similar balance between the academic rigor of his Oxford musical studies and the pragmatism of management consultancy.

Running a major opera company before the age of 40 might seem a notable accomplishment—except that Shilvock’s immediate predecessor and chief mentor David Gockley had been handed the reins of Houston Grand Opera before he turned 30. Shilvock first came to Houston while in post-graduate studies in public administration at the University of Massachusetts Amherst through an OPERA America fellowship. Following a short stint in Gockley’s office, he was offered a staff position. When Gockley left to run San Francisco Opera he brought Shilvock in tow.

From Gockley’s arrival in 2007 till his departure in 2016,Shilvock became his boss’s “eyes and ears,” gradually learning the intricacies of the US’s second-largest opera company, with more than a thousand employees and an annual budget of US$47 million. He was at Gockley’s side during a 2007 trip to China, as well as the world premieres for many Gockley commissions, including

The Bonesetter’s Daughter

, Stewart Wallace’s 2008 opera based on the novel by San Francisco-based novelist Amy Tan, and Bright Sheng’s 2016 opera

Dream of the Red Chamber

, which later appeared at the Hong Kong Arts Festival and a subsequent tour of Beijing, Changsha and Wuhan.Searching for inspiration as near as Silicon Valley and as far away as China, Shilvock has continued Gockley’s legacy even while refitting the artform for a new era. Fresh from this summer’s reprise of Francesco Zambello’s “American”Ring Cycle, Shilvock was in Shanghai for the Shanghai Opera House’s recent co-production of

Der fliegende Holl?nder

with Opera Erfurt and the Shanghai Grand Theatre. In between meetings, he had a chance to ponder Wagner and international collaborations, as well as ways to fund repertory opera during a recession and attract audiences in the age of social media.

So how did this opera thing start with you?

I studied music—musicology, really—at Christ Church,Oxford. Music had always been my passion in life,beginning with piano at age 4 and later cello and organ. I always thought I would go into music somehow, but never enjoyed being on stage in the spotlight. Or rather, I enjoyed playing, but not in a professional context. I’d spread myself a little too thinly with too many instruments. But at age 12 I saw my first opera, which was one of Graham Vick’s productions for a small opera company that later became the Birmingham Opera Company. It had always been a place where he could experiment with interactions between art and audience. It was very participatory; you moved around with the drama. He was one of the first to champion that approach. The show was

Beauty and the Beast

by Stephen Oliver, I believe, and looking back,it showed me how opera could make a very immediate connection. In San Francisco we can't have our audience walking around on stage during the performance, but we let them do that emotionally and mentally. Opera should not just be reactive; if we’re doing our job well, the audience should be part of the story.

So in Vick’s production you really moved around the theatre?

It was staged at the Central Television Studios in Birmingham. In four different studios, actually, so you’d literally follow the action around. He’s since done many things in that vein, in factories, for example. But as I saw more operas, it became a confluence of loving the repertoire and art form, and later at Oxford, of recognizing its complexity and developing the rather masochistic interest in bringing all those strands together.

Did you have background or interest in theatre at that point?

Not really. My parents enjoyed music and certainly encouraged it, but nothing really on the theatrical front.I think the whole appeal of opera was its complexity and multiplicity, the idea to bring it all together you have to find that one moment of complete synchronicity.

Was that part of your studies at Oxford?

My studies eventually became the French Baroque.There was an amazing library of antiquities with a number of first-edition scores of Jean-Baptiste Lully, and manuscripts transcribing and arranging those. There’d been maybe one performance of a Lully opera in London,but the entire performance practice of Lully operas had come through sharing chamber music adaptations.

That topic was incredibly prescient, seeing how audiences for French Baroque opera have grown.

Yes, that’s the interesting part now. But Oxford encourages the process of learning more than the actual substance. It was about being in a library, delving deep into something and setting your own perimeters. Oxford doesn't say, “Read these chapters.” They say, “Go write this essay on Mozart Piano Concertos.” You pick the focus and supply the structure.

So in terms of finding focus, what happened between Oxford and Houston?

I tried to get into opera companies in the UK, and people were very kind with informational interviews. But there were simply no jobs available, and even now there are so few of them that once people get hired they stay for life.So I worked for a couple of years in a small management consulting firm, and then went to the US to do a Master in Public Administration. I was still looking to move into opera, biding my time. These experiences broadened my perspective beyond my very narrow academic framework.The consulting firm did a number of workshops with UK partnerships—it was all about integrating the supply chain—and they used music to get people all jazzed up and in the right frame of mind. So they said, “Matthew, you have a music degree. Do some research on this for us.” So,fresh out of Oxford, I wrote a 60,000-word paper on music and the brain. I went to every science journal I could find,read neurological studies. I was even at the British Library’s reserve collection in the north of England. And I handed this thesis very proudly to my boss, who gave me a look of absolute horror. He just wanted a couple of good pieces.It was great example of not understanding your audience.I’d heard about the OPERA America fellowship when I still in the UK, but they couldn’t arrange for a visa. Once I was studying in the US, it was a different situation. Again,studying public administration was another case of figuring out how to make an argument in three bullet points rather than 30,000 words. Some people who suffer through my emails think I didn't learn that well enough.

What had you known about David Gockley before coming to Houston?

I certainly knew his reputation as an innovator and champion of new works, as well as the resulting impact Houston was having on the opera world. But I wasn’t supposed to be working for him. I’d gone to work with Diane Zola, who was at that point running the Opera Studio. About halfway through my stint there, I was called down to David’s office. He’d always had a second person working there, sort of a management trainee, and he needed someone to fill that position in the short term. And at the end, he offered me a job. I still pinch myself at how Igot to spend 14 years working with a great impresario.

Coming to San Francisco Opera was a pretty seismic shift. This wasn’t a company David had shaped in his own image, so the dynamic was probably chaotic by comparison. How was that change for you?

You might think that Houston would be the bigger culture shock, but I’ve always been more surprised by California. Texas is just so fundamentally proud of itself as a state that I always felt welcome there. You’re swept up in the exuberance that is Texas. It was colorful, big, bold—different from anything I'd ever seen before. California is a bit more European, yet somehow more removed,with the pressure of being so far across the world. But professionally, it opened so many areas for me. David had been in Houston for 35 years and knew every nook and cranny of the company. I was doing special projects for him, but always in a familiar context. In San Francisco,everything was new. He was trying to figure out the company, what he wanted to do with it and how to move strategically. All of a sudden I had a new role to play. Now it was about finding out how things worked, understanding the budget, which was three or four times the size of Houston’s. And, of course, understanding the political pressures. The unions were much more ingrained here and that affected any decision-making. So I became David’s eyes and ears, which enabled me to stay with him in a way I never would have in Houston. In San Francisco, he kept giving me additional departments to take on.

What was that career trajectory?

I had about five or six titles, usually the same words jumbled up in different contexts. It started with Special Projects, which included simulcasts and media strategy.Then in 2008 I was given oversight of the orchestra, chorus and dancers, as well as the related unions. A couple of years later, I took on communications and education,and shortly before becoming general director, I took on development. It was a role that gradually expanded throughout the company, and I can’t adequately express my gratitude for the trust David showed in allowing me to remain a generalist, which is almost unheard of in this business. At some point, you usually have to specialize—become a casting director or a production director, or focus on development.

Being a generalist, knowledgeable if not fluent in all departments, is exactly what you need to run a company. It sounds as if you were being groomed for that role. It was not, however, assured that you would get it. How did that search process work?

David gave a pretty fair amount of notice. The board formed a search committee, which took that job seriously.They spent time deciding the company’s vision, mapping out what kind of leader they were looking for. They spent a long time discussing the leadership structure—should it be one person? Two people? They met with other companies to see how things worked elsewhere. Then they announced a very thorough international search. It was always clear I had to be part of that search; there was no predetermined pathway.

Did they give you any indication when you were hired about why you were hired?

Good question. I used to say, for 10 years I was the one behind the potted plant and never tried to put myself in the spotlight. I think a number of people only saw me in that light and questioned whether I could come out of that role. They’d asked the final candidates to propose a 10-year vision for San Francisco Opera and its place within the community, and I was able to address that with a completely different rhetoric. But still, it was a very unusual decision. There are examples of passing the baton internally—in San Francisco, leadership went from[Gaetano] Merola to [Kurt] Adler—but that’s not really the case anymore. The business does not prioritize internal succession. What was important about this decision is that it has allowed not just me but a whole leadership team that’s been in place for some 10 some years to leverage their collective wisdom and establish a framework for the company’s future. It takes about three years to figure it out the company, and if you’re still learning the basics at the same time you’re planning five years ahead, that’s a long time before you actually know what you’re doing,Speaking for our team now, we have the understandingto solve problems without having to unpack and question every little thing.

2016年7月，舊金山歌劇院舉辦“棒球場上的歌劇”活動，免費向2.8萬名觀眾直播該院制作的《卡門》

Thinking about the future, how much of David’s core philosophy and priorities are still valid? Do they need to be retooled for the future?

The key concept I learned most from him is balance.David had very strong artistic aspirations, but he was never the kind of impresario to do simply whatever he wanted.He would always think about balancing a full season,balancing finances. That perspective is all the more important now that everything is becoming more fragile financially. I think the biggest shift here in the past 10 years has been the change in assumptions about what works and what doesn’t. We grapple with finding a sense of certainty about the business and the artform when it’s so difficult to predict outcomes. You used to have a pretty good idea that if you did X then Y would happen, and particularly since 2008 those assumptions have begun to change. I’m sure there’s an algorithm to figure out how a particular show will sell, but it’s very different from the one we’ve typically used. Last season,

La Traviata

sold only 70 percent even with great reviews. John Adams’s new opera

Girls of the Golden West

got not-so-good reviews but was last fall’s second-bestseller. So as a team, we're trying to find out how you create a more predictable business model with an ever-more-unpredictable audience reality.

As William Goldman once said about the movie industry predicting hit films, “Nobody knows anything.” Who would’ve predicted that after San Francisco Opera did

The Bonesetter’s Daughter

in 2008 that the economy would plummet so completely?

The recession changed audience buying habits—not so much on the donor’s side, but it put a strain on subscription sales. I was also reminded recently that this was also when the iPhone emerged, and the impact of mobile media greatly changed the way people both consumed entertainment and interacted with life. It’s a scary time—and an exciting time—because we’ve increasingly realized we have something unique to offer amidst all of that. The question is how you can change the public’s awareness and expectations.

When I first went to both Houston and San Francisco in the 1990s, the expectations were pretty clear. In Houston, audiences came to see exciting productions.In San Francisco, people went to hear top-notch singers and the productions were almost irrelevant. People in San Francisco now come for the show, partly because of David, but partly reflecting a different age.

I firmly believe that what we’re doing on stage—something very experiential, very tactile, very made-in-San-Francisco—is very congruent with the millennial mindset,the kind of thing you can discover and introduce to other people. And certain traits of what we do are perfectly aligned with San Francisco’s growing tech audience.

The (R)evolution of Steve Jobs

, for one.

Yes, certain overt pieces like Mason Bates’ new work about Steve Jobs remind us that opera as an artform can still offer something of value today. But really, that value comes from audiences being able to see something of themselves on stage, whether it's a “tech” story or

Traviata

.

But will the people who come to

Steve Jobs

come back to see Tosca jump? Is there an “SFO audience” or are you cultivating several audiences?

My hope is that we can cultivate a general trust within the community about how we tell stories of humanity. It’s very hard now to sell individual titles. Names of operas have little resonance with the public, let alone those of individual singers or conductors. So we have to be a place that the audience trusts to come and have live-affirming experiences.Ticket prices can be a barrier to that. People are very happy to pay for expensive things in San Francisco, but I’m not sure they're willing to do so as an experiment. So somehow we have to move beyond this title-driven awareness—Come see Janá?ek’s

Jen?fa

!—and instead explain what

Jen?fa

can do for you. The specifics on stage are a means to create the emotions you feel as an audience member.

Over at the San Francisco Symphony, Michael Tilson Thomas has built that kind of trust. But it’s one thing to program Janá?ek on a bill with Beethoven and Mahler. It’s very different spending the whole evening with

Jen?fa

.

Well, yes, getting back to that word “trust” again, you have to get people to trust that they can come to the opera house even if they don’t know the title of the opera, the story, the singers, or even the language. It can still be a place that they can find something deep within themselves.I mean, you’re in tears at end of

Bohème

not because Mimi is dying of consumption but rather because you’re seeing a love that has ended too soon, which may trigger something within yourself. This is the power of opera.

It all leads back to storytelling. You have to feel for the characters.

To me, the story of the opera is never the synopsis. I often joke that opera is so powerful because the stories aren’t always that great. Or I should say, they're not tight. They're not Hitchcock dramas. If they were, they might enthrall us,but we’d probably keep them at arms length emotionally.

Tosca

is almost Hitchcock melodrama, yet it often fails miserably on stage.

Yes, but even

Tosca

has space for you to bring your life to the story. You can imagine yourself onstage as one of the characters. Handel’s operas, too, are about emotional journeys. The stories are just vehicles for those journeys.

Puccini and Handel were very different composers.Is there any formula for making such different works succeed with audiences centuries later?

I’ve thought a lot about this. At the start of this season,people were saying, “Okay, Matthew, a year into the position you have to tell us your artistic vision for the company.” And the more I thought about the question, I realized it’s so rarely answered. I could offer a list of titles—say, a complete Janá?ek cycle—but that’s dangerous, since things might go in different directions. Finances might fall through, productions might not be available. David’s artistic vision was already clear simply because of what he’d done in the past. You knew his esthetic, his priorities.Many general directors can rely on that. Artistic vision is something you see clearly in the rear-view mirror. I don’t have that (laughing), so rather than offering a list of titles,let’s cut straight to what’s important to us as a company.I’ve boiled down our artistic philosophy to three pillars. The first is Creative Edge. Because of our size, history, and place in the middle of this incredibly fertile area of thinking and discovery, we have to shape the future of the artform and find creative energies in the resources we have, whether in new works, productions or singers. The second is Reflecting Community. We like to think of ourselves a world-class opera company—and I hope we are—but 85 percent of our audience is from northern California. We have to be telling stories that matter to northern California, whether it’s

Steve Jobs

or

Girls of the Golden West

or in the way we tell a story like

Tosca

, to ensure that it means something to audiences in our place and time. We shouldn't simply be driving a cultural message; that message has to come organically from the people who make up our audience.This also celebrates the fact that our community can sustain the required level of local artists and technicians, which doesn't happen everywhere in the world. We can really celebrate being “made locally” and invite the audience into appreciating the many layers that go into that. And the third point is Total Art—a bit pithier in English than Wagner’s

Gesamtkunstwerk

. I used to think this was stating the obvious, but came to realize it’s not always done. For one of our operas to succeed, it needs to succeed on all levels. The worst thing for me is when someone comes out of the opera house and says, “If I closed my eyes, I could enjoy it.” If one piece of the equation is off base, we fail. We succeed when it all come together: music, drama, visuals, storytelling.That’s what creates the magic. Our recent

Roberto Devereux

had a huge audience reaction. And yes, part of that was Sondra Radvanovsky, but also the staging, the conducting,her interaction with other cast members, the pacing, the subtle nuances. Each element helped to create the audience reaction. So thinking about how productions and casting come together, how can we sustain that? I would rather do fewer things incredibly well than more things where we marginalize some of those elements.

Was your “American” Ring Cycle an example of being“l(fā)ocally made”?

That was a long time in the making, starting with discussions between David and Francesca Zambello in Houston. Washington National Opera took the lead, and when David moved to San Francisco he was able to come back into the equation. There was always this idea that it should resonate with people in America, but its evolution was never heavy-handed, and in fact things were pared down as we went along,

Rheingold

was set in the Gold Rush, and the original design had a big sluice reminiscent of that era. That went away. You could still feel the iconography of the American West, but it wasn’t so explicit that people unfamiliar with that iconography couldn't find meaning in the piece.

G?tterd?mmerung

is set in some futuristic dictatorial state, though its conception is very much aligned with American history and ideologies—and politics, to some degree. Over time, you could also call that production the “Naturalistic”

Ring

or the “Feminist”

Ring

—other adjectives that became attached to it and carry almost as much weight as “American.”But really,what has made it successful is the storytelling. Nothing in Francesca’s

Ring

is at odds with the storytelling of Wagner.There’s no disconnect that the audience has to untangle,which for me is the difference between a great production and a troubling one. If the audience has to figure out what on earth is going on—whether the setting is historical or contemporary—if they have think about why certain choices are being made, then you’ve broken the magic.Over the last hundred years, opera has intellectualized itself way too much. The minute you’re trying to unpack a director’s vision intellectually, you’re not experiencing it in the soul anymore.

That over-intellectualism is not just onstage.

Yes, it’s also there in the way people talk about opera and the way they’ve been conditioned to think about it.No matter how much you know about singers, you can be made to feel two inches tall when people start talking about voice types and who sang the Marschallin in 1952 at the Met. That stuff is wonderful and important, but it can’t be the dominant message about what opera is, simply because it excludes too many people. Opera has backed itself into a corner when people think they need to know this stuff. It’s great if you want to go that deep, but you really don’t have to. Our messaging and marketing try to pull back from the idea that you need to have any preexisting knowledge. Even the way we watch opera, with so much sacred overlay, is not what was ever intended.There’s a wonderful scene in

Cinema Paradiso

where an entire community is watching a film in a southern Italian movie house. People are talking, eating, making love.Some are even watching the film. The whole spectrum of life is happening in the audience, and the opera house was like that as well. We’ll probably not get back to that spirit,but it's a good reminder of how fundamentally populist opera was during much of its history.

One of the questions at this year’s World Opera Forum in Madrid was how can we afford this artform in the 21 Century. You touched on finances earlier, but how is this all affecting your fiscal structure?

Opera is never going to be profitable, at least in terms off ticket sales. It hasn’t been in 400 years. But I’m looking at many tech companies around us that still haven’t made a profit, and yet are still considered successful. Look at the venture capital being pumped into tech firms. Is that really so different from donors investing in an artistic experience?The returns just come in different ways.

Back in the 1940s, Virgil Thomson wrote that the Met’s problem was that too many board members thought of it as a failed money-making organization rather than a first-class money-spending organization.

We have some incredibly generous philanthropists among our donors, and I’ve come to realize this as an inherently two-way connection. People don't give to the arts anymore because it’s seen as being socially “correct.”Areas like health care or education hold that mantle now.People give to the arts now when they’re passionate about it, which means they’re getting something in return.We’ve just launched a new Producers Circle for six-figure donors that offers a way to get under the hood of our creative process. Talking with one of our donors who's also a Broadway producer made me think about what she’s gotten from working on Broadway, and that many philanthropists at that level want the same things from opera. So we've tried to create a sense of ownership,basically including them in the process. If we bring somebody on as a major philanthropist/investor/producer,as we did with our new

Tosca

, they can have a journey with the piece from day one. We’re not afraid to have them there in the design meetings or on the first day of rehearsals with the cast. They should have that connection with the piece,because they’re as much a part of it as the cast is. We're thinking of this now as a much more integrated system.

Does being in San Francisco make it easier to create that system?

I had this light-bulb moment a few years ago after a few meetings at a tech company. It was the quintessential tech office, designed from scratch, glass windows, everybodywalking around with their MacBooks, barista in the entranceway manned by rotating staff members. Just as you’d imagine a tech company would be. And I came out thinking, “Gosh, I wish I worked for a creative company.”And then I thought, “What am I saying?” What we do on stage is one of the most incredibly creative things humanity has dreamt up. But we’re not always creative in the way we get there. The way we function tends to focus on the problems and not the possibilities.

Creativity is simply not efficient.

No, and every time I leave a European festival I come away both with euphoria and depression, because you see companies working on a highly creative spectrum,perfectly aligned to take risks and fail—and allowed by the audience to do so. You can see a production at Aixen-Provence that doesn’t quite work, and it won't effect whether or not someone comes back the next year. There’s excitement in the risk-taking, and an understanding that some things will come out better than others. For American opera companies, particularly big ones where fixed resources are so complicated, you aren’t allowed to fail. Both the financial model and audience sensitivity are such that the minute you do one thing that doesn't work,you start losing people. But if you don’t take risks, the whole thing deflates. You lose the excitement of being on the edge and the possibilities that come with that. That’s what I find stimulating about Silicon Valley, which has a very particular idea of creativity that has led to all kinds of outcomes that are changing the world. I keep exploring ways we can be a part of that.

In terms of community engagement, San Francisco is also a center of social media. How has that helped reach audiences?

Now that we have access to a multiplicity of voices, the next level is turning that into an exciting dialogue. Should we allow user reviews on the website? (laughing). I think there are interesting possibilities there, just as there is in having interaction between professional reviewers and the public. As a journalist, how do you feel about that that? Is it too dangerous?

In its early days, the internet generated some exhilarating discussion. But don’t forget, usergenerated content also gave us President Trump. The dialogue soon becomes demeaned. Many publications open some articles for public feedback, but not others.Feedback is often moderated, so that responses obviously coming from trolls or robots are kicked out.

The untapped possibilities are exciting. I took this job realizing I had to up my own game. Well, first I had to get a game (laughs). I’d done a bit of Facebook, but nothing on Instagram or Twitter. So I started developing that.Instagram is the best vehicle, I’ve found, since what we do is so experiential. Twitter is more about ideas, and as a representative of the company it’s not always my place to be putting out ideas, since it’s very hard to divorce oneself from an institution. But Instagram is a fabulous way to give people backstage glimpses of opera that people never usually see, such as shots of curtain calls from the wings.We also have open-curtain events during intermissions,where we narrate the act change and answer questions from the audience. Some people want to keep the fourth wall and not lose the mystery, but many others are fascinated by seeing some of that backstage world that makes everything happen. I’m trying something similar with a biweekly blog entitled “Backstage with Matthew,”where I focus on one person—say, the hat maker—and ask what it takes to be a hat maker and how that work affects the show. So when you watch

Tosca

you understand a little more of opera’s complexity, with an entirely different appreciation for what’s on people’s heads. There are so many points of engagement. Singing is a huge part of it, but you can enter opera from many angles that don’t require you to know the difference between a lyric soprano and a spinto. We were having our kitchen remodeled last year and the contractor asked me what I did. After I told him, he said, “Well, that’s nothing to do with my world.”And I said, “Well, actually, we have many people there who do things very similar to what you’re doing.”

You were quite new at San Francisco when you first came to China in 2007. How did that trip fit your expectations?

I was a year to 18 months into the job and really had no expectations. What impressed me then was the sense of growth and optimism. The NCPA in Beijing was still under construction, so we got a hardhat tour. In Shanghai,I remember being overwhelmed by magnitude of the Oriental Art Centre, especially for an environment in which Western opera was a relatively new tradition. There was such a sense of excitement and possibility. Just being backstage again at the Shanghai Grand Theatre, I was struck by the immense technical capability of these theatres. Even if they're not being used as full repertory opera houses, the potential is still very much there. The idea that Shanghai is building yet another opera house—two, if you count the Conservatory venue—is amazing, but when you see it in the context of a city of 24 million peopleit begins to make sense. They can accommodate a huge growth for opera here.

Your first engagement with China professionally was

The Bonesetter’s Daughter

, one of David Gockley’s first commissions in San Francisco. How did that opera start the relationship?

That was an interesting example, since

Bonesetter

was a blend of Chinese and Chinese-American influences, heavily rooted in an American esthetic. On top of that, you had a production team with a more fully Chinese esthetic. Within all that, we started to understand the differences in the creative process, a different sense of timelines, differences in building relationships. But because of the piece itself,with the composer and librettist being American, it was a softer engagement than

Dream of the Red Chamber

became later.

People in China are much more aware of San Francisco Opera because of

Red Chamber

, which was one of David’s final commissions. You seemed to be more directly connected to China right from the beginning.

Red Chamber

helped me understand more clearly the difference between Chinese and Chinese-American perspectives, particularly in storytelling. With

Bonesetter’s Daughter

I felt a respect that we were telling a story rooted in the history of Chinese immigration, but with

Red Chamber

there was respect that we were buying directly into the Chinese literary canon, reinterpreting it in a largely Western context. Everything about the process was different: the expression on stage, how we worked with designers, the rhythm of the storytelling. And again, it was about relationships. I saw that again on this trip to Shanghai: It’s all about building trust.

How exactly did those processes differ?

Bonesetter

was more in the traditional American model: the piece is written, the production team hired.

Red Chamber

happened more organically, with music and design and dramaturgy evolving more holistically. We were dealing with a famous text that the Chinese treasure with such reverence, so simply by consolidating different interpretations of the piece in text,music, direction and design we aimed for a common message that I believe helped to create something of more universal appeal.

With

Red Chamber

, you became the

first Western opera company to tour China, not just appearing in one city but traveling to multiple regions.Where do you go from here? How does China play into San Francisco’s future?

San Francisco, both the city and the opera company, are well positioned to have a global reciprocal relationship.Because of our amazing congruence with Shanghai—with longstanding political and economic relationships—there’s an incredible opportunity for our two cities to start thinking in a culturally cohesive way. I’m so in awe of the pace of change in China’s embrace of opera. Audiences at

Der fliegende Holl?nder

were so young and diverse and engaged. They seemed fascinated by what was happening on stage, and their enthusiasm was inspiring. There are so many possibilities, both in traditional repertoire and the creation of new works. And after our experience with

Dream of the Red Chamber

, I’m not too worried about exactly where that will go. Part of the process of building a relationship is being not quite sure where it will lead.But when you put a lot of quality time, thought and collaborative effort into it, generally what comes out will be pretty strong. There are certain things that big, established companies like ours can do to help new companies and facilities in China, but it’s certainly not a one-way relationship. What

Red Chamber

showed us is that there are incredible stories out there that Western audiences don't know but have beautiful potential for operatic expression that can be cultivated on a global basis. I’m excited to see what other stories we can tell.

希爾沃克在介紹《托斯卡》的舞美設(shè)計理念