Beauty and the Beast

“Writing for children perhaps means even more” – an interview with the composer

Although almost everyone knows the story of Beauty and the Beast, the creative duo Péter Tóth and Anna Mechler deliberately depart from the Hollywood gloss. Speaking with the composer, it becomes clear that in their new fairy-tale opera the leading role belongs to children, while the music follows the finest traditions of musical theatre. In connection with the premiere realised as part of the MVM Pikoló Programme at the Eiffel Art Studios, the conversation touched on creative solitude, the secrets of the child’s voice, and why seven-minute arias are not necessary for genuine success.

The story of Beauty and the Beast is enjoying something of a renaissance today. How did this classic tale find its way into your operatic world?

The idea for the piece was born out of the enforced isolation of the pandemic. It may sound strange to say, but for an artist the shutdown brought something that had previously been one of the rarest treasures: time. The composers’ competition at Müpa Budapest also provided a timely opportunity and the final push. Since many in the profession had labelled me primarily as a choral composer, I deliberately wanted to take a different path. I envisioned a children’s production that is accessible yet offers a genuine, uncompromising operatic experience even for the youngest audiences, something that could even reach pupils within the framework of an unconventional singing lesson.

With such a well-known subject, how consciously must one avoid the “Disney effect”?

I deliberately kept my distance from film and other musical stage adaptations. When choosing a subject, many practical considerations come into play: whether contemporary colleagues have written something similar, whether the story can be performed by children, and whether it can be realised economically. I conceived the work for a chamber ensemble of 25 musicians, which lends both mobility and intimacy. Our version follows tradition rather than spectacle. It is thoroughly tonal music, evoking the noble simplicity of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, with rapidly shifting keys, classical solos, duets, and large choral scenes.

The central theme of the work is the recognition of inner values. How is this transformation reflected in the music?

This is the most exciting point of the dramaturgy. The Beast’s first appearance is musically deliberately raw, even aggressive, something like a dark Monostatos-type character. As the girl, who is the emotional catalyst of the story, begins to discover something human in him, the musical texture gradually clears and becomes more refined. The orchestration softens, the harmonies open up. I tried to support the inner conflict and the characters’ gradual rapprochement through the arc of the melodic language. The emergence of trust is, in musical terms, also a kind of purification.

Writing an opera for children’s voices and child performers is a discipline in itself. What are its particular rules?

Artistic quality must never be compromised, but practical considerations do need to be kept in mind. Just as one writes differently for trumpet than for violin, the child’s voice also has its own characteristics. One must know the comfortable ranges and rhythmic capacities. The Hungarian State Opera Children’s Chorus is quite extraordinary: their playful naïveté is combined with a level of discipline and professionalism that would do credit even to adult singers.

You conceived the piece as a single, relatively short act. Is this concision aimed at today’s faster-paced generation?

We have to acknowledge that it is more difficult today to hold attention for long periods, but the story itself also demanded this tightness. The narrative is linear and clear, without unnecessary subplots that would justify two acts. I do not favour overextended forms; in this work there are no self-indulgent seven-minute arias during which the audience’s attention might inevitably wander. The scenes are dynamic, and the emotional depth comes from density rather than length.

The premiere takes place at the Eiffel Art Studios, whose somewhat industrial spaces may seem far removed from the intimate world of a fairy tale.

I am a great admirer of classical Baroque opera houses, where even entering the space feels like a ritual, but the Eiffel has its own energy. In truth, any space can be suitable for opera if the production can hold the audience’s gaze on the stage. If a work is dull, attention will wander even in the most gilded box. That is why, together with the director Attila Toronykőy, we have planned a highly visual and dynamic production.

This is not your first collaboration with librettist Anna Mechler. What is your creative process like?

There must be a foundation, the rhythm and meaning of the words, to set my musical imagination in motion. Anna’s lines possess a classical dignity and elegance that immediately established the tone of the work. Of course, there are adjustments along the way, but fundamentally the libretto is what I build the music upon.

It seems that few composers today dare to write operas for the youngest audiences. Do you see your work as filling a gap in the contemporary Hungarian scene?

Indeed, few such works are created, but I do not think this is primarily the composers’ fault. Staging a new opera today involves enormous financial risk and cost, which few theatres are willing to undertake. Many excellent works may lie hidden in drawers simply because there are no resources to bring them to the stage. That is why it is so significant that the Hungarian State Opera provides space for such initiatives. Writing for children may mean even more than writing for adults, because we are responsible for whether the next generation comes to love this genre or remains forever alienated from it.

Where does this work stand within your oeuvre, and what lies ahead?

For me, writing opera is always a “labour of love”. This is my fourth opera, and I experience every premiere as a celebration. At present, I am already immersed in a completely different world: we are creating a comic opera based on Ferenc Molnár’s Play at the Castle, together with Péter Müller Sziámi. It is true that we live in times not particularly conducive to carefree laughter, but I believe that with a humorous, self-ironic work we can bring back a sense of lightness and empathy to the auditorium.

Interview conducted by Máté Ur