Megalography, by definition, is the portrayal of figures who exhibit prodigious, customarily approaching zones of inordinacy, levels of greatness and partake in seemingly exorbitant walks of life. Christine Goerke’s self master crafted title role as Elektra, within the one-act opera Elektra, serves as a paragon of megalographic individuality. The surrealistic nature of this character is derived from the interplay of various components seen both throughout and outside the duration of the opera: the harmony seen between Christine Goerke’s soprano voice and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the functional architecture of Carnegie Hall, and the choice of dress for Elektra.
In few orchestral performances, the voices of prominent cast members can be drowned out by the thundering, albeit beautiful, sounds created by orchestral instruments. This effect seems to detract from the underlying themes of an opera, hindering coherency and audience connection. Fortunately, the aforementioned effect was not seen throughout the one-act play of Elektra. To emphasize the vast degree of unity seen between singers and orchestral sounds, Christine Goerke’s role as Elektra will be used. Although the performance consists majorly of dialogue, there are spans when dialogue is not found. During these instances, the Boston Symphony Orchestra commands the stage, preventing all other sound, exclusive to those produced through instruments, from penetrating the confines of their performance. These instances captured the audience’s attention, as exemplified when the performance began and the orchestra was heard forecasting the seeds of a tumultuous end point through eerily subversive clarinet playing and equally enthralling drum pounding, and coerced the audience into remaining transfixed on the product being produced before them. The orchestra finds itself to be second to Christine Goerke once she begins singing. This sudden orchestral masking is not due to the orchestra lowering its volume but due to Goerke’s alluring soprano voice. Goerke mans the stage while casting her voice over the larger than life mystique created by the Boston Symphony Orchestra. If we are to ponder the duration of time Goerke spends on stage, we will find that Goerke stays on the stage from the early beginning of the opera to the very end. Through analysis of this subtlety, we find that the ability to produce such a dominant soprano voice throughout a large duration of time to acquire the talents of an individual who surmounts physical hurdles: an individual of megalographic standing, an individual who portrays herself as larger than life.
Megalography is not limited to the duration of the play, for it is sustained upon entering Carnegie Hall. One megalographic aspect of Carnegie Hall is its winding staircases. To gaze upon the splendors of Elektra in the balcony center seating section of Carnegie Hall, one must surpass the physical strain found in climbing flights of stairs numbering over five. One feels as if he or she is rushing towards battle. Once one transcends these numerous steps, he or she is left physically drained and overly susceptible to the narrative of the performance. This observation does not detract from the mystique of the opera; it boosts it.
When first sighting Elektra within the performance, one experiences slight confusion. Elektra is adorned in a red dress, free of any and all signs of psychopathy. Prior to the beginning of the performance, a viewer foresees the title character draped in hues of black and grey, devoid of any warm hue. This dress may have been used purposively. Despite her sadistic and seemingly monochromatically bleak personality, Elektra is an individual of nobility under the house of Agamemnon. This chose of dress is indicative of royalty which transcends the apparel worn by individuals of lesser class. A separation between members of the audience is created through the application of this dress; the viewer finds him or herself to be of lower class status, whether this be true or false is negligible, and lacking in regards to the feelings greatness evoked by Elektra and her formal garb.
Megalographic features can be traced backed to items seemingly unworthy of remembrance following the conclusion of a play. These subtleties play large roles in extending the stories portrayed through more easily distinguished aspects of a performance. These roles must not be overlooked, but rather embraced and be made to associate with easily distinguished aspects for the purpose of enjoying a performance in its true unadulterated form. Elektra, its cast, its artists, and its venue has come together to form a product that would be lacking if not for the continuous interplay of these influences.
