Marrying two of his obsessions–opera and Jackie O.–librettist Wayne Koestenbaum mixes a cocktail of Jackie’s life that’s one part fact, two parts fancy. Like his 1995 book, ““Jackie Under My Skin: Interpreting an Icon,’’ the opera’s less about who Jackie actually was than about how Jackie worshipers came to love–and use–her.
““Jackie O’’ opens in 1968, at a New York party jampacked with competing divas: Liz Taylor in her Cleopatra headdress (““I am worshiped by millions who believe it,’’ she sings), Princess Grace (““Every time I brush my hair, it’s an international event’’) and Andy Warhol (who gets shot). One of the partygoers (soprano Nicole Heaston) puts on a black gown and veil, climbs onto a pedestal and–voila!–becomes Jackie O. See–anyone can become an icon as long as she has the right outfit. Heaston’s honey-toned voice delivers silvery thrills, but she doesn’t come close to achieving Jackie’s aura of sublime dignity. The swaggering, debauched Ari Onassis (powerfully sung by Eric Owens) ferrets her away to Skorpios, where she and her new friend Callas (mezzo-soprano Stephanie Novacek) beat up on a maniacal, tap-dancing paparazzo (Bruce Brown). At the climax, the dead JFK calls Jackie and asks for forgiveness. She grants it. ““The torch has been passed,’’ she sings. ““The new frontier is here.’’ The stage swarms with Jackie look-alikes in scarves and sunglasses. In place of JFK’s unrealized promise, Jackie’s given America a new myth–herself. End of opera.
Sure, it’s camp, but well grounded by Koestenbaum’s poetic libretto and Michael Daugherty’s brilliantly eclectic score. Daugherty has composed chamber pieces, and even a symphony, inspired by Superman, Elvis and J. Edgar Hoover. For ““Jackie O,’’ he stitches together jazz, pop and Broadwayesque tunes and rhythms with the tools of serious music, crafting simple, catchy melodies that don’t condescend and grand symphonic carnivals that aren’t pretentious. The score’s backbone is a recurring Egyptian motif that deliberately sounds like a kitschy theme from some ’50s Bible epic. (According to Koestenbaum, Jackie brought the Egyptian Temple of Dendur to the Metropolitan Museum and could view the tomb of dead kings from her apartment.) Daugherty layers irony upon irony in the final song, a patriotic anthem that melds the Egypt motif with a cowboy theme on folksy guitar. The chorus of Jackie look-alikes sing: ““Ask not what your country can do for you/ask what you can do for your country.’’ It’s an oddly cynical moment, but you still can’t help tapping your feet.
Of all the fine arts, opera’s had the most success attracting young audiences. Composers like Daugherty, who pay no mind to the high/low divide, can take some of the credit. Koestenbaum says, ““Jackie deserves a few more operas. They should be filmed MTV style.’’ Sounds like we’re on the edge of a new frontier. O Jackie!
