Sir Lancelot, bari-hunk lover-boy of Lerner and Loewe's Camelot, sings one of the great love songs in American musical theater, the ballad "If Ever I Should Leave You." A reading of the lyrics to this song, which for many of us is permanently associated with the testosterone-infused voice of Robert Goulet, reveals that Lancelot is, as a romantic figure, in marked contrast to several other suitors from Broadway musicals.
He doesn't mince words; he is highly assertive; he is in touch with his feelings; he isn't shy; he doesn't fear rejection.
He isn't afraid of commitment.
Think about it - many would-be boyfriends of the Great White Way beat around the bush in their love ballads, apparently reluctant (for whatever reason) to say those celebrated "three little words": I love you.
Examples are numerous; so numerous that I'm only going to list the four that came to mind immediately. I'm sure there are others. If you think of good examples I've neglected, feel free to add them in the comments section on our Facebook Fan page. (www.facebook.com/vaopera)
Among the earliest instances of the "can't-bring-myself-to-declare-my-love" love song is one of my favorites: "Make believe", from Show Boat by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II. It occurs early in Act I, at a moment the show's creators evidently felt was too early in the drama for a relationship to be confirmed.
The two young people involved are Magnolia Hawks, a dewy-eyed eighteen-year-old ingénue, daughter of the Show Boat captain and an aspiring entertainer; and Gaylord Ravenal, a slick riverboat gambler and ne'er-do-well. He's the "bad boy" that all teen-aged girls are reputed to fall for, and Ravenal doubtless knows that with her daddy looking over her shoulder this affair will likely encounter rough sledding in the future. These circumstances may account for the ensuing beating-around-the-bushness of the song. Here's an abridged version of the illustrative passages:
Only make believe I love you,
Only make believe that you love me.
Others find peace of mind in pretending,
Couldn't you?
Couldn't I?
Couldn't we?
And later,
We only pretend
You do not offend
In playing a lover's part.
The game of just supposing
Is the sweetest game I know.
Our dreams are more romantic
Than the world we see.
And if the things we dream about
Don't happen to be so,
That's just an unimportant technicality.
Lerner and Loewe toyed with this concept long before Camelot in their 1947 Irish fantasy Brigadoon. Tommy, the brash New Yorker, is spending time with lovely Fiona from the magical village Brigadoon on the only day it will appear in a century. Here's his version of "I sort of heart you - maybe":
What a day this has been! What a rare mood I'm in!
Why, it's almost like being in love!
There's a smile on my face for the whole human race!
Why, it's almost like being in love!
All the music of life seems to be like a bell that is ringing for me!
And from the way that I feel when that bell starts to peal,
I could swear I was falling, I would swear I was falling,
It's almost like being in love.
(source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/soundtracks/b/brigadoonlyrics/almostlikebeinginlovelyrics.html)
Well then, Tommy, I guess she's "almost pretty", and you "almost want to kiss her" -- sheesh!
Four years earlier, Richard Rogers and his new partner Hammerstein collaborated on their first smash hit Oklahoma!. Our super-coy lovers in this instance are the wholesome Laurie and the king of the aw-shucks cowboys, Curly McLain. Their duet "People will say we're in love" is an extension of the mutual game of teasing that lasts throughout most of the show. Laurie sings the following "Ice Queen" lyrics; talk about playing hard to get!
Don't throw bouquets at me
Don't please my folks too much
Don't laugh at my jokes too much
People will say we're in love!
Don't sigh and gaze at me
Your sighs are so like mine
Your eyes mustn't glow like mine
People will say we're in love!
Don't start collecting things
Give me my rose and my glove.
Sweetheart they're suspecting things
People will say we're in love.
I love how Curly's rejoinder combines playing hard-to-get with classic male ego:
Don't praise my charm too much
Don't look so vain with me
Don't stand in the rain with me
People will say we're in love!
Don't take my arm too much
Don't keep your hand in mine
Your hand feels so grand in mine
People will say we're in love!
Don't dance all night with me
Till the stars fade from above.
They'll see it's alright with me
People will say we're in love.
It becomes increasingly clear that this style of love song is a staple of the Broadway musical; a tradition carried on in Carousel, when another flirtation-cum-true-love relationship begins in Act I with another hypothetical love duet for Billy Bigelow and Julie Jordan with the highly qualified title "If I loved you". 'Nuff said, nest-ce-pas?
Now compare Lancelot's outpouring to his adulterous lady love Guevevere. Yes, the song's title contains the speculative word "if", but this is a different sort of speculation:
If ever I would leave you
It wouldn't be in summer.
Seeing you in summer I never would go.
Your hair streaked with sun-light,
Your lips red as flame,
Your face with a lustre
that puts gold to shame!
But if I'd ever leave you,
It couldn't be in autumn.
How I'd leave in autumn I never will know.
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air.
I know you in autumn
And I must be there.
All righty then! Got the message! She's yo' woman!
So what accounts for this new-found willingness to make a declarative statement about romance? Was it the passage of time? Perhaps in the war-torn 1940's, not far removed from the Great Depressions, people were not certain of the future regarding any aspect of life. Perhaps by 1960, on the cusp of the Sexual Revolution, and in the cozy domestic after-glow of the 1950's, men felt more confident in confessing the extent of their feelings.
In any case, though we might rue his inappropriate choice of a lover in a respectable married woman, give it up for Lancelot: he's the least reluctant lover in all of musical theater!
Today's post comes from our own Dr. Opera, Community Outreach Musical Director Glenn Winters! Read more from Dr. Opera on his weekly blog, Operation Opera, and be sure to catch him at "Opera Up Close" -- lively, entertaining lectures before each production that are free with your opera ticket!
Dr. Winters received his Doctor of Music from Northwestern University, and also holds the B.M. and M.M. in piano performance from Indiana University. His background includes teaching college-level piano, arts administration at two universities, and extensive performing experience as solo pianist and accompanist. As an operatic baritone, Dr. Winters has sung over a dozen principal roles; he made his Virginia Opera debut in the 2004 production of The Merry Widow. His compositions include two children’s operas commissioned by Virginia Opera’s Education department: History Alive! and Tales From the Brothers Grimm. His first book, The Opera Zoo: Singers, Composers and Other Primates is available from Kendall Hunt Publishing. He joined Virginia Opera’s Education and Audience Development Department in 2004 as Community Outreach Musical Director.
Glenn Winters' book The Opera Zoo: Singers, Composers and Other Primates will be on sale during intermission of all performances of Die Fledermaus. Or, to order by phone, call 1-800-344-9034, ext. 3020.
