Redefining stereotypes: gay men and opera
There is nothing I find more exciting than opening night at the opera. As a former opera singer, I can speak from experience that this elation is shared equally among those on- and off-stage. There is a certain anticipation that inhabits the air, that when combined with the sophisticated attire of the patrons, creates a truly magical experience.
Last weekend, I attended the opening performance of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly at LA Opera. As a sucker for Italian opera, I had been looking forward to the performance for many months. Clad in a sports jacket and tasseled loafers, I felt a giddiness similar to that of a child entering a candy shop. As I entered the theater, arm-in-arm with my date, I prepared myself to be wowed.
I attend the opera as frequently as I can. Furthermore, I try to share my love of this art form with as many people as I can. There seems to be a very specific demographic that regularly visits the opera: old white people. But as I sat down in the theater, I noticed that most of the other patrons, aside from the privileged and elderly, were a multitude of friends and colleagues who identify as queer men: in singles, pairs, and even in large groups.
Though it isn’t altogether surprising, it is a known stereotype that gay men love the opera. However, as a gay man who strives to defy stereotypes, I oppose the notion that love of opera is predominantly associated with my sexual orientation. What does my love life have to do with my musical tastes?
Moreover, why is opera stereotypically associated with gay men? The media seems to contribute to this association. For example, on the early-2000s Showtime series Queer as Folk, the character Ted often expresses his intense passion for opera. In fact, most of the show is one enormous operatic reference, with both outward and subtle references to famous operas. Only a complete operaphile would be able to pick up on all of these allusions, which is possibly why they were included in the first place.
In addition, critic Wayne Koestenbaum’s book The Queen’s Throat provides an in-depth study between the relationship of homosexual men and opera. Koestenbaum argues that this fascination with opera stems from our admiration and identification of the “diva.” And though there is more to his argument, this claim seems a bit murky. My love for this art form has always stemmed from the music itself. As much as I love attending a live performance, I mostly prefer listening to old recordings in solitude. This way, I am able to fully immerse myself within the story without having to sit in a theater with hundreds of other patrons. The music always receives first priority. The drama is just an added bonus.
Granted, as years pass, this stereotype has dwindled down, as younger generations don’t seem to foster the same appreciation for opera as before. But I’ve never let my fear of being stereotyped prohibit me from doing what I love. Besides, being pigeonholed for my musical tastes isn’t exactly detrimental; I just remind myself that it stems from ignorance. So if my love for opera makes me “gay” — rather, “gayer” — then I guess I’m just another Queen of the Night.
Arya Roshanian is a senior majoring in music. He is also a lifestyle editor at the Daily Trojan. His column, “From the Top,”
runs on Tuesdays.
Dwindled, perhaps, but young opera queens do exist! Picked up The Queen’s Throat and I’ve never been so completely exposed on the page before. Aside from his focus on the cult of the diva, Koestenbaum also explores “The Shut-in Fan: Opera at Home” which may be more your listening style.
It’s also wise to keep in mind that The Queen’s Throat is a collection of personal essays, and no two opera queens are the same. As for the question of whether music or text is more important, well, that depends on the composer, the academic, and the listener.