Can Opera Attract A New Generation Of Fans? At La Scala, Signs Of Hope

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Sonya Yoncheva, Juan Diego Flórez, and Placido Domingo perform with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra on June 23 at Teatro all Scala in Milan; Photo by Reto Albertalli, Courtesy of Rolex.

Sitting in the audience at La Scala, Milan’s historic opera house, built 241 years ago, listening to some of the world’s biggest stars sing “Brindisi,” the beloved drinking song from Verdi’s La Traviata, for a sixth encore performance, you would have no doubt that opera is alive and well in 2019. It feels especially so here, where the theater is open nearly year-round and opera is still a way of life, with the most ardent fans standing in its highest seats to get a view of the stage, from which they can be heard lovingly cheering (or even booing). La Scala has been updated since its earliest days (it can be open in the Italian summer heat because of air conditioning), but there are still a few of its boxes outfitted like they used to be, when the opera house was where, in addition to catching a show, one could gamble, conduct business dealings, and eat risotto.

I was raised by opera fans, so I’m used to people who react to the likes of Plácido Domingo and Gustavo Dudamel with the zeal of teenagers at an Ariana Grande concert. My parents met as two self-starting young professionals in Los Angeles in the ’90s; both had been going to the opera as a way to meet people, despite not growing up attending themselves. As a couple, they accrued hundreds of records and bought season tickets—my sister and I accompanied them sparingly as children (we didn’t do so well reading subtitles for three hours), but I still can hum lines from The Magic Flute and The Barber of Seville.

My opera education was less about splashy opening nights and expensive orchestra seats than it was about obsession, the sheer nerdiness required of the true opera fan, who is reading, listening, and viewing as well as understanding the composer and the piece in their historical contexts, and knowing the performers and conductors—all at the same time for hours on end. Music fanatics of all disciplines have their own compulsions, but opera truly demands a heavy lift from its devotees.

It follows, then, that millennials might kill it. We’re not known for our attention spans, our patience, or our respect for tradition, and we have been subsequently accused of killing avocado, cheese, homeownership, marriage, and the retail industry. Behind these allegations is, of course, the world’s deeply troubled economy, which has effectively made it unlikely that most of us will be able to afford what our parents could. For opera, which has an elitist reputation—though, as with my own experience, it’s not always the case, and opera was historically a populist art form, too. If we kill it, it will likely be because we simply don’t have the means to go.

The world’s opera community is reckoning with this future. I was in Milan for a gala concert at the Teatro alla Scala, where many of Rolex's partners and Testimonees—leading artists with whom the company has long-term relationships—had been brought together to raise funds in support of the educational arm of the Teatro alla Scala Academy. The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra was playing; Gustavo Dudamel and Plàcido Domingo, the latter one of the most famous living opera singers, were conducting; Sonya Yoncheva, Juan Diego Flórez, and Jonas Kaufmann were singing—and throughout, accompanied by pianist Yuja Wang. These luminaries came together for this evening of beloved favorites, including selections from Tosca and Romeo and Juliet, because each of them—along with Rolex, in the form of its longstanding support—believes in cultivating excellence in the arts and in passing on a love of opera to the next generation.

La Scala faces a piazza in central Milan, not far from the Duomo. When it was nearly time to open the theater doors for the concert, the late June sun had gone down enough that the men in their suit jackets and women in sleeved dresses waiting to enter were comfortable, if eager to get in. The La Scala ushers wear heavy pendants on chains over their uniforms that make them easy to spot. They have been known, on occasion, to firmly direct underdressed tourists to a nearby H&M for more appropriate opera attire (though I was disappointed not to witness this). The attendees who were not connected to Rolex or to the Vienna Orchestra were a mostly older, chic Italian crowd, though some were accompanied by young people.

Domingo, who along with the other performers spoke to journalists ahead of the program, doesn’t worry about getting us in the doors. He believes music education is the key to making new opera fans. “You can teach music without telling them this is ‘classic music,’” he said. Since 2003, he has been the general director of the Los Angeles Opera, which has instituted several initiatives in an attempt to make audiences younger and more diverse, including avant-garde performances and reduced ticket prices. “Los Angeles is one of the best cities with musical education, so we are very happy,” Domingo said.

Dudamel, the Venezuelan conductor who also directs the Los Angeles Philharmonic, came up in El Sistema, the famed publicly funded music education program founded by José Antonio Abreu. Dudamel is a kind of rock star of the classical world, known also for performing with pop stars (including at the 2016 Super Bowl) and conducting film soundtracks. “Art has to be embraced with all kinds of art,” in his words.

Flórez was also a product of a strong national commitment to music education; in Lima, Peru, he attended the National Conservatory before receiving a scholarship to a program in the United States. His non-profit, Sinfonía por el Peru, provides arts training for the country’s most at-risk youth. He says they have seen how participation in the program has reduced rates of teen pregnancy. Flórez argued that, though opera can endure as a niche art, it has to bring more people in in order to survive. “The music is timeless,” he reasoned in conversation with press, “but don’t forget that this is not an art that is hugely popular, so you have to cultivate the public, you have to bring young people to the theater, maybe some of them will follow, some of them won’t. But the only way to bring young people to the theater is to bring young people to the theater. There is no shortcut.”

The two female performers present—Chinese pianist Yuja Wang, 32, and Bulgarian soprano Sonya Yoncheva, 37, who was pregnant with her second child at the time of the gala—were also the youngest. Wang entered the classical music scene with a considerable splash a decade ago, as a then-21-year-old virtuoso who, notoriously, performed in minidresses. Wang plays electrifyingly, with her entire body, stomping on the pedals in high heels, and she brings a palpable sense of passion to her performances that's not often seen.

By the time each singer had performed an encore at La Scala, and Dudamel reappeared on stage to relieve Domingo of his conducting duties so that he could partake in a rousing rendition of “Brindisi,” which the crowd joined. Attendees were so fiercely delighted that I reasoned to myself that if each major opera house in the world has its own fandom, that might be all it takes to keep the lights on. In New York, a group of cool women journalists I know attends the Met regularly as a group (under a not-safe-for-work moniker); the youth chapter of the La Scala foundation has seen a 60% rise in membership; Paris hosted an escape room game based on Phantom of the Opera—in the opera house. A new online service for classical music, Idagio, hopes to attract new listeners—and bring its older listeners, finally, to streaming. There is hope for us yet.