Cellist Matt Haimovitz on His Latest Recording Project, "Jacqueline"

The CD presents a recently produced opera based on the life of legendary cellist Jacqueline du Pré

American soprano Marnie Breckenridge and cellist Matt Haimovitz have released a new award-winning opera, Jacqueline, on Pentatone that tells the story of the real-life struggle between famed cellist Jacqueline du Pré and multiple sclerosis. To purchase and listen to the opera, click here.

GRAMMY-nominated composer Luna Pearl Woolf and Pulitzer Prize-winning librettist Royce Vavrek collaborated on Jacqueline, charting the development of the great prodigy in four movements: I. Star Birth, II. Super Nova, III. Meteorite, and IV. Impact.

Breckenridge represents Jacqueline and former du Pré protégé and world-renowned cellist Matt Haimovitz, plays the role of her constant companion: her cello.

We caught up with Haimovitz to learn more about the project.

 

What inspired the creation of this project?

There is no reference for the lightning rod that was Jacqueline du Pré. The artistic chemistry between soprano Marnie Breckenridge and myself sparked the idea of a full-scale opera specifically for the two of us. Marnie and I had just performed another one of Luna Pearl Woolf’s works, “Rumi: Quatrains of Love” for soprano, cello, and piano. Luna was aware of my time with Jackie and immediately gravitated to her transcendent and tragic story. She was intrigued by the challenge of creating a truly operatic work with minimal forces – to sustain a complete theatrical experience with only two voices, or even a single voice and an instrument.

 

We understand you spent some time with the late, great Ms. Du-Pre before her passing in 1987. Tell us about this experience and what influence she had on you?

For me, Jacqueline du Pré was my cello idol long before I ever imagined meeting her. She was the ultimate communicator. Her cello – “mon ami” – was her lifeline, a voice with a direct connection to her heart.

At the age of fourteen, my family Seder was nearly over when I received a phone call from my mentor, Itzhak Perlman. Would I be able to join the end of the Perlman Seder, to meet and play chamber music with their guest, pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim? Daniel asked me to read through the Brahms Sonata Op. 38 in e minor. It was the first time Daniel had played with a cellist since his wife Jackie became ill with MS. The first movement came to rest on the final E Major triad. I looked over at Daniel who had tears in his eyes.

Weeks later, Daniel would invite me to make my European debut in London, with him conducting the English Chamber Orchestra at the Barbican Center. On that occasion, I was invited to spend time with Jackie in her apartment. She took out her cellos – two Stradivari, a Goffriller, and her favorite, a modern cello by Sergiu Peresson – and asked me to play them. Even with limited memory left to identify the repertoire, she would comment on my performance: Bach’s Suite III Sarabande must start up-bow, in the passagework of the Saint-Saens’ Cello Concerto the bow should bounce off the string.

For the next several years, I spent time with Jackie on each visit to London. She had little control over her nerves by then, arms waving uncontrollably in constant unpredictable motions, her neck and head cutting through the air like a knife. And yet, when we spent hours together listening to her recordings, and watching her films, the neurological chaos would calm down. Jackie’s body came to rest. She would break into a smile and enter a whole other world.

Each interaction was an inspiration to be in the presence of an artist whom I placed on a pedestal. I absorbed as much as I could from Jackie’s comments and especially from revisiting her recorded performances. At the same time, it was heart-wrenching to observe the fragility of life, and that the natural gifts bestowed on us could be taken away so cruelly.

 

Can you tell us a little about the storyline of the new opera and what aspects of her life are covered?

The story of the opera Jacqueline falls into four movements – a nod to the structure of Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto, the work most closely associated with du Pré’s passionate performances and recordings. Within each movement, we are catapulted across time, and travel between the public Jacqueline, traveling the world at the height of her powers, and her inner struggle to understand, and come to terms with the Multiple Sclerosis that began to ravage her body at the age of 26.

Her voice, her truest sense of self, and her constant companion, is embodied by the cellist and his instrument. Thus Marnie and I represent the core and initially fused aspects of Jacqueline, but their relationship is tested by her increasing illness.

Told non-sequentially, we visit the 5-year-old Jackie’s wonder at the discovery of the cello; we follow Jackie through the height of her career as a performing and recording artist. We experience her love affair with Daniel Barenboim, conversion to Judaism, and marriage to Daniel in Israel in the midst of the 6-Day War. Her MS symptoms, still undiagnosed, begin to show. Jackie must grapple with life on the road, doctors who discount and humor her, attributing the loss of tactile feeling to a mental breakdown. In the second half, Jackie, now with MS taking over her body, confronts her mother who blames the condition on her conversion to Judaism. Daniel is away on tour, as Jackie tries to outrun her disease, and imagines the sensual pleasures of a hoped-for recovery, even as a definitive diagnosis arrives; trying in vain to reclaim the innocent passion of her youth, she explodes in rage as she rejects the cello once and for all. The cello mourns his lost love; we encounter a physically debilitated Jacqueline, still able to muster puckish humor; she takes control of her sense of self, lost in the memory of her own recording, and looks into the future.

 

What was the process for preparing this production? How did you go about working with your collaborative artists, vocalist Marnie Breckenridge and composer Luna Pearl Woolf, librettist Royce Vavrek, and director Michael Mori?

The process of developing a new opera is very collaborative. We all have different roles, but there was a strong sense of openness to ideas and delving into the heart of Jacqueline du Pré’s life. We began with meetings, sharing ideas, discussing our research and my personal accounts of Jackie. Luna and I interviewed Toby Perlman, a close personal friend of Jackie’s to broaden the perspective. We held intense workshops exploring some of the arias and ideas that Luna and Royce had developed. These took place at Opera America in New York, the Tippett Rise Arts Center in Montana, the Schulich School of Music at McGill University in Montreal and at Tapestry Opera in Toronto. Some of the material from these early forays made its way into the final work, but there were other scenes that were cut.

Through the whole process, one could feel something special developing. Royce Vavrek’s words stuck with me in a way normally reserved for musical phrases, Luna’s lyrical musical language and seamless references to iconic cello repertoire felt both new and inevitable, Michael Mori’s patient and meticulous directing brought out a second character in Jackie’s cello, and Marnie inhabited the spirit and role of Jackie. The final three weeks leading up to the first run of performances in Toronto were a revelation for me personally. Taken out of my more abstract instrumental world, I was thrust into the multi-layered theater of telling a story.

 

How would you describe the musical score?

The voice and cello are extraordinarily interlocked through much of the opera. I like to say that Jacqueline is like the Ravel Duo for Violin and Cello, only it extends for 90 minutes. Marnie and I, a wordless character, are musical equals, a true duo encompassing a broad arc of emotions through our evolving relationship.

Luna organically engages with Royce’s words; the music grows out of the words. The concept of leit-motif, repeating motives with specific associations, is used throughout Jacqueline. However, the idea expands and transforms, like the exposition and recapitulation of a Sonata movement. For example, in the opening Aria, Disease I (Track 2), the sparks of ricocheting glissandos in the cello are light-hearted conspiratorial support for Jackie telling an inside joke at a dinner party. In Disease II Part I and II (Disc 2, Tracks 3 and 5), those same ricochets, more darkly depict the symptoms of MS as Jackie is confronting her diagnosis. There are many more examples. There are references to the cello literature – Bach, Haydn, Brahms, and Elgar – but always seamlessly stitched into the story.

 

What details and highlights should listeners be listening out for in the score?

Luna ingeniously takes the piece of music that is most closely identified with Jacqueline du Pré, the Elgar Concerto, and bases the opera on that four-part form. She references the Elgar Concerto in different ways throughout the opera, from the ascending scale in the opening track “On Stage,” to the fantasy with multi-layered celli on Elgar’s first movement theme in the final track, “The Record II.”

For string players, there are some recognizable references from the literature. The opening of “Dizzy” (Track 12) alludes to a Bach Sarabande and in “Marriage I” (Track 7), Luna quotes the Brahms Sonata Op. 38 that was dear to Jackie, as well as being the first piece I read through with Daniel. With no keyboard on stage, Luna distributes the themes and accompaniment equitably between the voice and cello. There is a haunting quality, hearing the voice singing the melody as I play the arpeggiated accompaniment of the piano and vice versa. There are also bursts of improvised klezmer in this marriage scene which takes place in Israel. Cellists will appreciate the playful re-imagining of Haydn’s Cello Concerto in C in Dizzy (Track 12). In Persecution (Track 15), that same virtuosity is overtaken by the debilitating disease. It is clear by this midpoint in the opera that the cellist can no longer keep up with the orchestra, completely derailed and flailing, a nightmare for any performer.

For me, the dramatic high point of the opera occurs at the end of Act III. In Mon Ami II (Disc 2, Track 7), the cello indulges in its own virtuosity, oblivious to Jackie’s personal torment. Jackie, completely repulsed, finally grabs my bow arm and repeats, “No, no, no, no, no...” She can no longer play her beloved instrument. She is stripped of all of her magic.

There was a moment when I was with the real Jackie in London. It was mealtime and she was not able to feed herself. I was at the table spoon-feeding her the meal. It was already a humiliating experience for everyone, especially her, and she tried to grab onto my hand. Her hand started to shake, the spoon flew out, and the food spilled all over. Nothing made it to her mouth and she burst out, ‘This fucking disease!’ This is translated into one of the most emotionally potent scenes in the opera, “Cancellation” (Disc 2, Track 8), not a literal representation of my personal experience, but a moment of Jackie expressing her deep bitterness at having to give it all up. We rarely see Jackie that way, as just a human being.

It is an operatic story, the highs were so high and the lows were so low. Biblical in scope. One is given everything, and everything is stripped away. Nothing is left.

 

What do you hope listeners will take away from this new disc?

This opera contributes to the ongoing project of keeping the memory of Jacqueline du Pré alive. She was a force of nature. I hope listeners, new to Jackie’s artistry and longtime fans, go back to experience her recordings.

Life is so vulnerable and fleeting. Do not dare to take for granted any gifts given. Appreciate and remember any and all moments of transcendence.

Beyond Jackie’s recorded legacy, we now have an operatic story that celebrates the life of the artist and her cello. And as with every one of her performances, Jackie’s life and story transcends and continues to inspire. In the opera Jacqueline, we witness the awesomeness of a supernova. And yet we see ourselves, our dreams, our failings, our trials of faith and identity. We all can share in her humanity.