Vietnamese Opera in the United States: Nam Mô A Di Đà Phật Celebrated on American Stage

Most Vietnamese are familiar with the story of Quan Âm Thị Kính, a thousand-year-old Vietnamese folk tale, and the Buddhist chanting  Nam Mô A Di Đà Phật (equivalent to “Amen” or “Hallelujah”). For the first time ever there is an opera by a Vietnamese-American composer featuring this literary work and the celestial Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật. P.Q. Phan, associate professor of composition at Jacobs School of Music, Indiana University, translated and reconstructed the libretto for his three-act opera The Tale of Lady Thi Kinh from Quan Âm Thị Kính (Our Benevolent Bodhisattva Thi Kinh), a traditional Vietnamese work that combines both music and drama. The workshop of the new opera in July 2011 was a success and the opera will be premiered by Jacobs School of Music in 2014.

Do you enjoy reading diaCRITICS? Then please consider subscribing!

NAM-MÔ-A-DI-ĐÀ-PHẬT CELEBRATED ON AMERICAN STAGE

Anvi Hoang/Photos by IU Jacobs School of Music (IU JSoM)

(1) There is a small number of Vietnamese in Bloomington, IN. (2) Cultural, especially musical, activities here are numerous – orchestra concerts, operas, theatrical plays, musicals, ballets, Broadway shows, arts festivals, etc. Yet, hardly does one see the combined presence of (1) and (2) in public in one place. Until…

Workshop of the opera “The Tale of Lady Thi Kinh”

With the largest and most extensive collegiate opera house in the country, IU Jacobs School of Music has a long tradition of new opera premieres. Many national music critics and opera producers will attend the premieres, and the Opera Magazine, the largest and most important of its kind, will also review them. Needless to say, a new opera production is the talk of the town. The workshop is one step in the evolutionary process – a learning stage where the composer, the directors, and designers, just to mention a few, have the chance to study the work in advance in details – before the full production. Needless to say, the workshop is the talk of the town. Seriously, articles are everywhere in the local newspaper and school websites.

Workshop performances were on Saturday and Sunday evenings, which meant rehearsals were going on for three consecutive weeks, five days a week, 3pm-6pm everyday, until the Friday right before the first performance. I came out for a rehearsal open to the public. As an “adopted Hoosier” (IU is my school) and a proud Vietnamese, there is no way I would let it fly; as a freelancer, I would love to cover it for The Vien Dong Daily; as an “emotional supporter” for the composer of “The Tale of Lady Thi Kinh” – who happens to be my husband – I just had to be there. Well, four birds with one stone, not a bad deal at all. So, I looked for a seat, sat down and began to observe. The students involved in the workshop are from the Voice Department at Jacobs School of Music, Indiana University. Many of them have had experience working and performing on professional stage. Watching them, it is difficult to tell whether they are professionals or students. They would be referred to as “singers” in this writing.

This afternoon, they worked on the scene when Thị Mầu went to the temple to look for love. The singer playing Thị Mầu began her music rehearsal first with the conductor and the pianist (one piano is common for rehearsal). She started singing. Half way through, the Conductor stopped her and said, “Could you prolong this word a little? And come in faster on the next one.” There she went, and the process of singing-correction-singing-correction continued through difficult sections of the score. Other singers in the scene together with another sixteen in the chorus took their turns going through the music rehearsal. After more than an hour, they began to combine singing and acting.

Conductor at work

Lost in a Different  World

The stage was minimal to the bare bones: a large wooden frame was used as a door into and out of the house and the temple. The Servant, Nô, entered the stage, complaining about his miserable life. He was singing and walking a few steps then the Stage Director intervened, “Stop. You cannot be so formal and rigid. You have to use gestures as if you are a servant. Indeed you are a servant here!” Everybody laughed. I felt sorry for the singers who had to deal with the unrelenting criticism. Besides the conductor and the stage director, the composer can step in at any time with suggestions as well. The singers must have trained themselves to keep their ego and spirit intact to be impervious to these instructions. It is true the instructions are part of their job package, but who would like to be criticized all the time! I came to admire their working ethics.

Additionally, by the time of rehearsal, they already memorized the music, the libretto, and then incorporated them into their singing as instructed by the conductor, and into their acting as directed by the stage director. Both physically and mentally, it was intense. Three weeks to perform a two-hour opera was mind-blowing, especially so for the Thị Kính character who had to sing in nine out of ten scenes. Normally with more time, the pressure level would be lower, but in any circumstances, just to witness the singers, the composer, the conductor, the director – those known to possess the diva attitude – working together to create the opera on stage, I was mesmerized.

"Divas" team work

I imagine if colors and shades and brushes are tools of the painter, just as words are for the writer, materials and forms are for the architect, then the musician communicate with notes. Looking at the score, the singer can already “hear” the songs in their head. Maneuvering air through their vocal cords is only to realize the tunes out for the audience. The conductor, on scanning the score, can “hear” the sound of the whole orchestra – the violin in the background, the clarinet is leading, the harp whispering on the left, the percussion pulsating in the back, the double bass puffing on the right, etc. Like a painting with details being singing notes.

On the other hand, the stage director “thinks” with images, spatial constructions, gestures, and more. For example, when Thị Mầu failed to court Tiểu Kính Tâm the monk, she returned home. As she appeared, what the director “saw” on stage was a wooden house surrounded by bamboos, with a front courtyard. She came on stage from the right, at the same time the servant Nô came out of the house from the left, and they met outside the gate. Thị Mầu started to flirt with Nô, and she had to stay close to the gate so that when they finished singing, the music moved to the next measure in a few seconds, Thị Mầu only needed to push Nô slightly through the door, and the two of them were right inside the house. Such being the situation, the director had to remind the singers at what note and in what direction they needed to move. Like intricate details in an art work. I could not help feeling “high” submerging in their magical world. My eyes and ears were all up, my mind racing, my body shaking out of excitement and thrill. On stage, the musicians were merging their own worlds into one to create The Tale of Lady Thi Kinh. For a moment, I felt “enlightened” as if a simple thing turned into a very philosophical discovery of life.

Stage director welcomed audience

The Singing of Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật

Actual performances were in Auer Hall where everybody was waiting. The light went dim. The Stage Director appeared in front of the wooden frame. Holding out his hands, he said, “Welcome to Vietnam!” The audience laughed. Well, they were going to hear a Vietnamese story, coincidently it was hot that day and the air condition was kept high to save energy (economic downturn!). It felt pretty “tropical” in the hall. So the performance commenced with laughter. The audience had many chances to laugh, especially when Thị Mầu went to the temple to court the monk. They also laughed when the servant Nô told Thị Mầu that “you are like a young squash/Lie around any longer and you will become a gourd.” Plenty of laughter, and tears as well. Some of the older ladies shed tears over the unjust life of Thị Kính. My Vietnamese friend told me his 13 year-old daughter cried a lot.

Thị Mầu about to flirt with the monk

Nam Mo-4: Thị Mầu about to flirt with the monk

One thing I was certain, that to the end of the performance the American audience was able to pronounce Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật and know what it meant, because after Thị Kính cut her hair and disguised as a man to seek monkhood, they began to hear Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật regularly. Thị Mầu Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật to wish for love in the new moon; Thị Kính Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật to shed earthly life; Tiểu Kính Tâm Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật to ponder life and religious faith; Sư Cụ Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật to contemplate justice and traditions. Oddly enough, it felt so natural to hear Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật chanted on American stage for the first time ever.

Just as Amen or Hallelujah is a chanting term and cannot be translated, Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật is kept as it is to preserve the Vietnamese flavor. Who is not familiar with Hallelujah, especially at Christmas time. Either the chorus Hallelujah from Handel’s Messiah, or Leonard Cohen’s and Bon Jovi’s Hallelujah – to black, white, or yellow, it is all the same feeling of peace and serenity, quietness and sacredness. Now imagine, instead of Hallelujah, the singing is Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật. The whole hall was attentive to the performance on stage: Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật. The chanting-singing was cheerful, melodic, earnest at times with some hint of Vietnamese chèo music, peaceful at others. The Vietnamese everywhere will be proud to hear it – something so dear to their heart, and so universal on American stage right now.

Firework ending Nam Mô A Di Đà Phật

When Thị Kính was going to Heaven in the last scene, all the singers and the chorus Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật in a most earnest and intense manner as if preparing for a firework ending – Thị Mầu’s youthful life was already celebrated, now it was Thị Kính’s sacrifice. My muscles were stretching like the strings. It was indeed music for the Almighty, there was no shame that it made humans like me cry. It certainly dawned on me that the magical power of music transcends both happiness and sorrow. I remember my friends and I once talking about the tragedy in Vietnamese history: over four thousand years, countless wars, fathomless sorrow, unspeakable sacrifice, innumerable  deaths. For a moment, all those baggage seemed to melt into the lyrical Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật. May a requiem free those spirits. I have heard Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật, I could imagine a requiem for the Vietnamese: an outdoor stage of millions, all opening their hearts in unison with the requiem.

*****

The opera The Tale of Lady Thi Kinh is planned to be premiered at Jacobs School of Music in 2014. It sounds like a long time, but two years is an average amount of time for a new production. Set designer needs to study how to “fly” Thị Kính to heaven, and costume designer to dress more than 30 characters together with the chorus. Stage director also needs to “meditate” on how to realize his concepts on stage. And so forth. Then follow auditions and rehearsals and miscellaneous issues. Time flies. In the meantime, ladies, get your áo dài ready. Welcome to Bloomington, Indiana! Jacobs School of Music is one of the most famous music schools not only in the United States but also in the world. Soon, Americans and people all over the world will hear Nam-Mô-A-Di-Đà-Phật in a full scale production, with elaborate set and costume, on a high tech stage, with an orchestra of 68, a chorus of 40, highly professional cast, well-known conductors and directors. I have begun to dream about that day.

P.Q. Phan’s bio:

Born in Vietnam in 1962, P. Q. Phan became interested in music while studying architecture and taught himself to play the piano, compose, and orchestrate. In 1982, he immigrated to the United States and began his formal musical training at the USC Thornton School of Music and the University of Michigan. He is an associate professor of music in composition at Jacobs School of Music, Indiana University at Bloomington.

Recipient of 1998 Rome Prize, ASCAP awards; grants from the Rockefeller Foundation, the Ohio Arts Councils, Charles Ives Center for American Music, and fellowships from the Macdowell Colony. Guest composer: the 99 Asian New Music Festival in Tokyo Japan, the 99 & 97 New Music Festival at Hamilton College (New York), the ’96 residency with the Kronos Quartet at University of Iowa – Hancher Auditorium, the ’95 Asian Composers’ Forum in Sendai – Japan, the ’94 New Music Festival at UC Santa Barbara, the ’92 Music Lives in Pittsburgh. Performances by the Kronos Quartet, the BBC Scottish, Radio France, Cleveland Chamber Symphony, American Composers Orchestra, Hanoi Conservatory Orchestra. He has received commissions from the Kronos Quartet, the Cleveland Chamber Symphony, the American Composers Orchestra, the Greater East Lansing Symphony, the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble, the Samaris Piano Trio, the New York Youth Symphony, La Sierra University. Work recorded by the Kronos Quartet for Nonesuch. Former Faculty member, University of Illinois Champaign/Urbana, Cleveland State University.

P.Q. Phan

– by Anvi Hoang. A version of this article was previously published in the Vien Dong Daily News 2012 Lunar New Year Edition.

Anvi Hoang is a part-time freelance writer, and full-time gardener and traveler. She makes it her aim to celebrate Vietnamese people everywhere in her writing. Anvi is currently working on a Western music series. She lives in Bloomington, IN.

Please take the time to rate this post (above) and share it (below). Ratings for top posts are listed on the sidebar. Sharing (on email, Facebook, etc.) helps spread the word about diaCRITICS. And join the conversation and leave a comment! What do you think about the adaptation of this story?

Do you enjoy reading diaCRITICS? Then please consider subscribing!