還記得什么是時間膠囊嗎？把一大堆東西塞進容器內(nèi)，密封后埋藏50年甚至100年，讓后世的人一睹從前的我們是怎樣生活的。我記得自己還是小學生時，適逢美國200周年國慶，我貢獻了一張黑膠唱片，但到底是誰的唱片我現(xiàn)在忘得一干二凈。我只希望到了2026年，當那些小學生打開那個時間膠囊時，他們會發(fā)現(xiàn)皇后樂隊（Queen）的珍藏版《波希米亞狂想曲》（Bohemian Rhapsody）；但也許他們只會找到一張ABBA樂隊的二流專輯。

今年國際歌劇大獎（International Opera Awards）典禮舉行期間，這種感覺又在心里出現(xiàn)。這個國際盛會自創(chuàng)辦以來，都在高檔的場所舉行，例如莎德勒威爾斯劇院（Sadler’s Wells，又稱沙德勒之井）和倫敦大劇院（London Coliseum，即英國國家歌劇院的主場），與會者衣香鬢影、觥籌交錯——以及，為歌劇藝術而慶祝。在過去的18個月里，這個慶典跟其他盛會遭遇同樣命運：本應2020年舉行的現(xiàn)場盛會宣布延期，等到差不多一年后才有機會在ZOOM平臺亮相。

當我收拾心情準備觀看頒獎禮時，心里猶豫著應該穿上什么服飾“赴會”——是按照倫敦時區(qū)舉行宴會的黃昏時段穿上禮服，還是根據(jù)自己所在的時區(qū)做準備？——我一瞬間就發(fā)現(xiàn)，自己正面對一個完全不同的時代。我腦海里的疑問，跟各個“新生代”（next-generation）的獎項類別無關：入選“最佳青年歌手”（Best Young Singer）的有天賦的歌唱家們都以歐洲為中心，我完全不認識，因此在投票時我首次投了棄權票。我期待在未來的日子可以欣賞他們每一位大展歌喉。當我聽到主持宣布該獎項的男女得主時——男高音澤比耶·安朵亞戛（Xabier Anduaga）與女中音瓦西里薩·貝爾占斯卡亞（Vasilisa Berzhanskaya）——這也是我第一次聽到他們名字如何發(fā)音。

不，我上文所指的“完全不同時代”還涉及“最佳導演”“最佳新制作”，甚至“最佳樂團”“最佳合唱團”。當慶典開始表揚那些杰出貢獻的藝術家于2019年的成績時，我的記憶變得越來越混沌。一個一個項目按順序公布的時候，我發(fā)現(xiàn)入選名單顯得好陌生，于是把自己當初的投票文檔找出來對照。

很奇怪，我發(fā)現(xiàn)我選中了不少最終獲獎的藝術家。紐約大都會歌劇院合唱團獲“最佳合唱團”實至名歸。這么多年來，我經(jīng)常看他們演出，大都會在每個晚上都保持高水準的演出，每年都值得我為他們投上一票。另一個意料之中的發(fā)現(xiàn)是，我投了馬德里皇家歌劇院為“最佳院團”，而最終他們也贏得了這個獎項。去年在疫情初期，皇家歌劇院率先推行了一系列的防疫措施，且切實可行，讓演員與觀眾都可以在疫情平緩期重返劇院。說真的，我很早就對馬德里有好感，大概評審團中很多人都有同感。我也為馬德里皇家歌劇院樂團投了“最佳樂團”一票（公平地說，今年的最佳樂團是巴伐利亞歌劇院樂團，他們是我投票上的第二順位）。

那些與獨唱家有關的重頭獎項則是另一番面貌。得獎的挪威女高音利澤·戴維森（Lise Davidsen）與墨西哥男高音哈維爾·卡瑪雷納（Javier Camarena），可謂眾望所歸，沒有人會質(zhì)疑他們的成就；但他們的曝光度卻不一樣。戴維森在英國歌劇圈十分受人矚目，但我從沒有看過她的現(xiàn)場表演，在投票截止前還趕不及聽她2019年為Decca唱片公司灌錄的首張專輯?？ì斃准{近年來在全球各大歌劇院與音樂節(jié)頻頻亮相，從倫敦、西班牙到紐約都備受追捧。他更是我畢生記憶中，少有的在大都會歌劇院舞臺上返場演唱的歌劇明星。雖然我不能肯定那晚我究竟在哪里，但大概是在西班牙。我很高興看到我投下一票的英國指揮阿爾裴舍·喬漢（Alpesh Chauhan）奪得“最佳新人”（Best Newcomer）獎。自從2016年開始，我就留意著他的發(fā)展動向?，F(xiàn)在我們已經(jīng)踏入21世紀的第三個十年了，喬漢在今天還算不算是“新人”就較難判斷了。

從2021年的角度回望過去，薩爾茨堡贏得“最佳歌劇節(jié)”這個名銜一點都不令人驚訝。畢竟，去年夏天，當世界各地的演出團體都在苦苦掙扎時，薩爾茨堡國際音樂節(jié)成功地舉辦了一百周年慶典，盡管規(guī)模小了，但最起碼沒有缺席。但你要明白，我投票的時候，衡量的標準只覆蓋了2019年的成績，而第99屆薩爾茨堡藝術節(jié)的表現(xiàn)算不上出色。任何值得尊重的藝術節(jié)除了回顧也要展望，我個人比較喜歡有前瞻性的藝術節(jié)。費城歌劇院（Opera Philadelphia）舉辦的“O19”歌劇節(jié)，可以追溯此前兩年的“O17”，策劃的演出徹底重構(gòu)藝術格式，不單是藝術節(jié)本身，更包含歌劇的定義。舞臺演出從非標準（非“古典音樂”）的作曲風格到演出場地與參演人員。各方面都在打破傳統(tǒng)。

我跟其他評審的不同觀點也延伸至歌劇作品本身。關于保留劇目，大家的分歧不大：年度“最佳制作”由比利時皇家劇院（La Monnaie）搬演里姆斯基-科薩科夫《薩爾丹沙皇的故事》（Tale of Tsar Saltan）贏得。這雖然是我的次選，它只僅次于在拜羅伊特搬演的、由托比亞斯·卡拉澤爾（Tobias Kratzer）執(zhí)導的《湯豪舍》。我們對于新作品與經(jīng)典新制的看法，差異更大。

這些年來，很多歌劇院已經(jīng)存有演出制作的檔案錄像，而過去一年的疫情令歌劇媒體制作數(shù)量上升，無論質(zhì)與量都有所改善，值得表揚。就算是幾年前（前疫情時代），沒有一位樂評人可以一人親臨世界各地的歌劇院，出席全部入圍的演出（有一年我在三大洲看到了某個獎項六位提名演員中的四位！）?，F(xiàn)在因為電子媒體的急速發(fā)展，樂評人之間也變得更平等，就像《留聲機》大獎一樣，大家要評選的都是媒體成品。說到這個，我投了高男高音雅各布·約瑟夫·奧琳斯基（Jakub Jósef Orlinski）由Erato唱片公司發(fā)行的《愛情的面貌》（Facce d’amore）專輯；這張專輯令我印象深刻，以至于完全忘記了入圍的其他唱片。

國際歌劇大獎的“世界首演”與“經(jīng)典新制”類別入圍劇目要比其他類別更多（6個入圍作品擴大至8個入圍作品），篩選入圍劇目的方針很明顯包含了不同考慮，包括風格與國家派別?！敖?jīng)典新制”的作品中令我感興趣的有華沙國家歌劇院重演波蘭民族歌劇創(chuàng)始人斯坦尼斯拉夫·莫紐什科（Stanislaw Moniusko）于1869年創(chuàng)作的《帕里亞》（Paria）?！杜晾飦啞纷罱K贏得獎項，但我同樣喜愛另外兩部歌?。憾检`皇家歌劇院搬演的費迪南多·帕爾（Ferdinando Paer）1809年的《艾格尼絲》（Agnese）以及布朗普頓古典歌劇團（Brompton Classical Opera）所發(fā)掘的，斯蒂芬·斯托雷斯（Stephen Storace）首部意大利歌劇《新婚之怨》（Gli sposi malcontenti），創(chuàng)作年份為1785年。這些劇目本來只屬于歷史注腳，卻有機會在舞臺上生動地呈現(xiàn)出來。

我認為引發(fā)最大疑問是“世界首演”類別。我不是不喜歡德特勒夫·格蘭爾特（Detlev Glanert）為德國歌劇院（Deutsche Oper）創(chuàng)作的《海靈》（Oceane）?！逗ｌ`》比拉克爾·加西亞-托馬斯（Raquel García-Tomás）的《我是自戀狂》（Je suis narcissiste）要好得多。（《自戀狂》可能是馬德里皇家歌劇院近幾年來唯一比較遜色的制作，影響了其一貫的一流水平。）但《海靈》比不上葉蓮娜·卡茨-切爾寧（Elena Kats-Chernin）為澳大利亞歌劇院創(chuàng)作的《懷特利》（Whiteley），也不如西村朗（Akira Nishimura）為東京新國立劇場撰寫的《紫苑物語》（Asters）的情節(jié)那樣引人入勝，更不像艾倫·里德（Ellen Reid）那部贏得普利策大獎、探索性侵犯所帶來心靈創(chuàng)傷的《棱鏡》（p r I s m），或是費城歌劇院搬演的菲利普·費納布斯（Philip Venables）與泰德·霍夫曼（Ted Huffman）合作的《丹尼斯與卡迪婭》（Denis Katya），描述偷窺狂與社交媒體，包含批判意識。

基本上，這些新歌劇可以歸類于三個板塊：歐陸（即“舊世界”）歌劇院與作曲家把“新酒倒進舊瓶”里；“新世界開拓者”把“葡萄栽在完全不一樣的土壤里，并找來合適的新酒瓶”；還有一些已經(jīng)“脫離了葡萄品種，選擇一個新系列的水果去釀酒”的“酒商”。正如整個世界的很多人、事、物，疫情聚焦原來已經(jīng)出現(xiàn)的反差——大歌劇院把目標放得高，它們依賴從前積攢下的商業(yè)積累與歷史檔案中的錄音錄像；小型歌劇院的目標則比較低，發(fā)掘新內(nèi)容的時候，刻意運用少數(shù)演員和更為親民的場地。

以上平心靜氣、捧杯交談、彬彬有禮的討論在未來的一天可能蛻變?yōu)榧ち业恼搼?zhàn)。雖然我們現(xiàn)在只能留在家中喝悶酒，終有一天將有機會在演出盛會中大飲香檳。德國歌劇院全員出動演出《海靈》，從任何邏輯角度上看，跟費城歌劇院具有實驗性、僅用了兩位演員在空白的舞臺上、由四把大提琴擔任伴奏“樂隊”的《丹尼斯與卡迪婭》參與同一檔次的競賽，顯然不那么恰當。

未來幾年舉行的國際歌劇大獎可能要慎重地提出“我們所謂的‘歌劇’如何定義？”這個話題。但最起碼，在明年的投票表格里，在演出劇目獎項里，應該加上一些新的類別。

Do we all remember time capsules？ Those sealed containers you fill with stuff so when people open them 50 or 100 years later future generations will have a better idea of what our life was like？ I remember offering a vinyl recording when I was in elementary school during the US Bicentenary， though I can’t for the life of me remember what it was. I hope when people open it in 2026 they’ll find a vintage copy of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody， but I’m afraid it’ll probably be a second-rate album of ABBA.

I had similar feelings during this year’s International Opera Awards. Since its inception， the annual London event has been held in fancy places like Sadler’s Wells and the London Coliseum where people get dressed up， drink champagne and—oh， by the way—celebrate opera. And like nearly everything else in the past 18 months， the live presentation of the 2020 awards had already been postponed once and finally migrated to Zoom， nearly a year after its original date.

So as I eased into viewing this year’s awards， still trying to navigate the dress code—do you determine black tie based on your own time zone or the hour of day at the source？—I soon felt I was also navigating a different era. I’m not talking about “next-generation”categories like Best Young Singer， where the original ballot was so Eurocentric that I’d punted. I do hope to hear all the nominees in the coming years， but as far as tenor Xabier Anduaga （the male winner） and mezzo-soprano Vasilisa Berzhanskaya （the female champion） were concerned， this was the first time I’d ever heard their names pronounced aloud.

No， I mean major awards like Best Director or Best New Production， even Best Orchestra and Best Chorus. As the celebrations illuminated the individuals and institutions that fared best in 2019， my memory got increasingly cloudy. From one category to the next， the nominees became so unfamiliar that I actually had to pull out my own ballots to see how I voted.

Strangely enough， it seems I actually voted for many of the winners. The Metropolitan Opera won Best Chorus， but since I’ve seen the quality of their work night after night for ages， they would have my vote pretty much every year. I was also not surprised to see that I voted for Teatro Real as Best Company， or that it won. Fairly early in the coronavirus pandemic， Real had been one of the first companies to design workable Covid protocols and get both performers and audiences back in the theatre. But I’d been drawn to Madrid years before， and it seems many others had too. I’d even voted for Real in the Best Orchestra category （though to be fair， this year’s winner， the Bayerische Staatsoper， was my second choice）.

The major vocalists were a different world entirely. It’s hard to disagree with the results of soprano Lise Davidsen and tenor Javier Camarena； it’s mostly a question of exposure. Davidsen has a heavy British profile， having won the 2015 Operalia competition in London， but I’d never heard her perform live and hadn’t even gotten around to her 2019 debut Decca recording before the ballots were cast. Camarena has been making a splash at opera houses and festivals around the world， from London to Spain to New York. He was also the first rare singer to perform an encore onstage at the Metropolitan Opera in my lifetime. Not sure where I was that night. Probably Spain. I was happy to see that I did vote for this year’s Best Newcomer， the British conductor Alpesh Chauhan， but that was based on a career trajectory starting back in 2016. Now that we’re in a new decade， seeing Chauhan as a “newcomer” in anything is harder to imagine.

Looking back from 2021， no one could be surprised that Salzburg won Best Festival. After all， while the rest of the world last summer was floundering， the Salzburg Festival managed to celebrate its 100th anniversary， reduced but largely intact. But do remember， the original ballot covered the year 2019， during Salzburg’s much less auspicious 99th anniversary. Any festival worth its salt， so to speak， looks both to the past and the future， and my own choice skewed toward the latter. Opera Philadelphia’s“O19” began two years earlier （with “O17”） as a radical reboot in format， not just as a festival but in the artform itself， with new musical stage works often in nonstandard compositional styles and performed in alternative spaces by nontraditional forces.

My differences with the jury majority continued well into the music itself. Not so much in repertory productions—this year’s winner， La Monnaie’s production of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Tale of Tsar Saltan was second on my list， narrowly edged out by Tobias Kratzer’s Tannh？user for Bayreuth—but rather in new works and rediscoveries.

To their credit， most opera companies have at least archival videos of their productions these days， and with the vast surge in media in the past year both quality and quantity will certainly improve. Even a few years ago， no one critic could possibly have seen all the nominees live （though I did once have the advantage is seeing four of the six nominees—on three different continents?。?； with advances in media， critics are more or less on equal footing， rather like the Gramophone Awards for recordings. （Speaking of which， not only did I vote for Jakub Jósef Orlinski’s Facce d’amore on Erato， it was the only nominee in the recording category I still remembered.）

Both the World Premiere and Rediscovered Work had more nominees （eight per category， rather than six）， falling clearly along stylistic and national lines. Amongs the rediscoveries， I was impressed by Teatr Wielki’s revival of Stanislaw Moniuzko’s Paria （1869）， which won the award， but no more so than Teatro Regio’s production of Ferdinando Paer’s Agnese（1809） or Brompton Classical Opera’s unearthing of Stephen Storace’s first opera Gli sposi malcontenti（1785）， each turning historical footnotes into vibrant living stage works.

It was the World Premiere category， though， that I found most problematic. It’s not that I detested Detlev Glanert’s Oceane at Deutsche Oper. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Raquel García-Tomás’s Je suis narcissiste—probably the only contribution by Teatro Real that I found less than first rate—but not nearly as interesting Elena Kats-Chernin’s Whiteley for Opera Australia or Akira Nishimura’s Asters for the New National Theatre Tokyo. Or as relevant as p r I s m， Ellen Reid’s Pulitzer Prize-winning exploration of the traumas of sexual assault， or Philip Venables and Ted Huffman’s Denis Katya， a blistering commentary of voyeurism and social media staged by Opera Philadelphia.

Essentially， these new works fell into three camps： Old World companies and composers pouring new vintages into old bottles， New World pioneers planting their grapes in completely different soil and finding new bottles to fit， and American vintners who’ve pretty much traded grapes entirely for a whole new range of fruit. As with so much， the pandemic put this contrast in the spotlight. Bigger companies have mostly reached high， relying on commercial and archival recordings of past productions， while smaller companies exploring new content have aimed low， with fewer performers and more intimate settings.

These civil discussions will probably erupt into full-blown arguments once our quiet toasts at home finally return to celebratory champagne-quaffing in public. By no logical means should Glanert’s Oceane， with the full forces of Deutsche Oper at its disposal， be competing for the same award with Opera Philadelphia’s highly experimental Denis Katya， consisting of two singers on a bare stage， an elaborate projection design and an “orchestra” of only four cellos.

Future seasons of the International Opera Awards may even broach the question， “What do we even mean by ‘opera’？” But at the very least， next year’s ballots should have a few new categories where repertory is concerned.