Welcome, and thank you for joining us for today’s performance.
This opera is a journey through the complex emotional world of childhood—a space where innocence and cruelty, play and pain, imagination and memory all collide. At its heart, it is about the violence of growing up: the necessary separation from the parent, the pain of self-discovery, and the hope for reconnection. By using toys and Christmas ornaments instead of animals, we sought to explore how they embody the child’s fears, desires, and memories. A broken doll or battered teddy bear is more than a plaything—it is a witness to the joys and wounds of growing up.
Although this piece is often called a “child’s opera,” it is much more than that. Like Beetlejuice or Corpse Bride, it has a melancholy and depth that resonates just as powerfully with adults. As a friend said to me: “People think it’s for children because of ‘The CHILD’ in the title, but they’ve forgotten that it’s RAVEL’S Child.” The shifting, eerie harmonies, the unsettling intervals — anyone who has heard it would find it impossible to view this as a sweet little kiddy opera. I have therefore chosen to lean heavily on the aesthetic of pen-and-ink illustration reminiscent of Edward Gorey’s Gashlycrumb Tinies: an alphabet book that mixed the macabre with a dash of off-beat humour.
We’ve set this opera during the Christmas season, inspired by works such as The Nutcracker, and in particular the arc of A Christmas Carol, where the child undergoes a transformation not unlike Scrooge’s—learning compassion, wisdom, and kindness.
With the haunting echoes of Ravel’s “Mama” in mind, I’ve emphasized the fury of a rejected child when his or her power is taken away completely (the Mother’s recitative is delicious; a slew of reproaches, coercions, guilt and power trips…oh my!), and pulled the whole dramatic narrative towards that. I see the objects in the first scene as representing different types of alternative parental/caretaker figures: authoritarian chairs who deny rest, hysterical clock and fire, cold and neglectful crockery...etc. The thrust stage lends its power to this, turning a mirror onto the audience; after all, don’t we all have mothers? Did we not all once fear abandonment?
To pull this off, we’ve had to play a little fast and loose with the libretto. However, I’ve kept the Shepherds’ Chorus in French, tied to the charm and poetry of Colette’s original libretto, and they appear as figures from French Christmas cards. This decision was made to preserve the surreal quality of the opera and to honor the beauty of its language and music.
The Garden scene presented a challenge. It would have been quick work to simply build upon the Gorey aesthetic, but I wanted badly to move the Child from the plane of simple black-and-white “them against me” dramatization to something more spare, with the Cats as messengers and guides. Hence, the toys from his toybox, each representing snippets of something longed-for, perhaps feared.
To me, the Child’s journey is about growth and reconnection. One cannot truly find empathy unless s/he is able to see another as someone separate, and so I found myself wondering if the Dragonfly— with her Moulin Rouge music, mourning her mate? her lost youth?— could be seen as an extension of the Mother, with the Child beginning to wonder about his mother’s inner life. Mirroring the Dragonfly, we have the Bat — like the Ghost of Christmas Future in Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, he heralds the awful possibility of a life without his Mama.
I’ve always been interested in directing opera, but leery of going it alone. Thanks to the support of my capable stage crew and design team, my dear friend Jacqueline Gourlay-Grant and conductor Isaac Droscha, this has been a vividly absorbing and rewarding experience. And of course, plaudits must go to this brilliant cast of singers, who pulled it all together through sheer pluckiness and talent.
We hope you will find beauty in this story of transformation, empathy, and healing, and we are so glad you are here to share it with us.
Warm wishes,
Jessica Ng
導演心聲
歡迎，感謝您加入我們今天的演出！
這部歌劇是一段探索童年情感複雜性的旅程——一個天真與殘酷、遊戲與痛苦、想像與記憶交織的空間。它的核心是一場關於成長的掙扎：與父母的必然分離、自我發現的痛楚，以及對重新連結的希望。我們選擇以玩具和聖誕裝飾品代替動物，試圖探索它們如何承載孩子的恐懼、渴望與記憶。一個破碎的洋娃娃或被磨損的泰迪熊，不僅僅是玩物——它們是成長喜悅與創傷的見證者。
雖然這部作品常被稱為「兒童歌劇」，但它遠遠超越了這個範疇。就像《陰間大法師》（Beetlejuice）或《地獄新娘》（Corpse Bride）一樣，它帶有一種令人深思的憂鬱與深度，對成人同樣有強大的共鳴。一位朋友曾對我說：「人們以為這是給孩子的歌劇，只因為標題裡有『孩子』，卻忘了這是拉威爾的《孩子》。」那變幻莫測的詭譎和聲、不安的音程——任何聽過它的人都很難將它視為一部可愛的兒童歌劇。因此，我選擇了濃重的鋼筆插畫美學，靈感來自愛德華·戈里（Edward Gorey）的《小災星字母書》（The Gashlycrumb Tinies）：一本將陰鬱與黑色幽默結合的字母書。
我們將這部歌劇設定在聖誕節期間，靈感來自《胡桃夾子》，特別是《聖誕頌歌》的故事弧線——一個孩子經歷了與斯克魯奇相似的轉變，學會了同情、智慧與善良。
懷著拉威爾《媽媽》的幽幽迴響，我特別強調了被拒絕的孩子在完全失去掌控時的憤怒（母親的宣敘調真是妙極了；滿是責備、操控、愧疚與權力遊戲……多麼精彩！），並將整個戲劇敘事向這個方向推進。在第一場中，我將那些物品視為不同類型的替代性父母或照顧者：不讓人休息的專制椅子、歇斯底里的鐘與火、冷漠忽視的餐具……等等。鏡框式的舞台設計為這一切提供了強大的力量，彷彿將鏡子對準觀眾；畢竟，我們都有母親，難道我們不曾害怕過被拋棄嗎？
為了這樣的重新詮釋，我們不得不稍微放寬對劇本的忠實度。然而，我仍然保留了牧羊人合唱的法語版本，以致敬柯萊特（Colette）原作劇本的魅力與詩意，他們以法國聖誕卡中的人物形象出現。這一決定是為了保留歌劇的超現實特質，同時向其語言與音樂的美麗致敬。
花園場景是一個挑戰。簡單地延續戈里風格或許很容易，但我希望能讓孩子從簡單的黑白對立——「他們對我」的戲劇化平面層次，走向更簡約而深刻的層次，以貓作為信使與引導者。因此，我選擇從他的玩具箱中取出玩具，每一件象徵某種渴望或恐懼的片段。
孩子的旅程關乎重新連結。只有當我們能將他人視為獨立的個體時，才能真正學會同理心。於是我不禁思考，蜻蜓——伴隨著她如紅磨坊般的旋律，哀悼她的伴侶？她逝去的青春？——是否可以被視為母親的一種延伸，是孩子開始思索母親內心世界的一個契機。而與蜻蜓相對的，是蝙蝠——就像狄更斯《聖誕頌歌》中的未來幽靈，他預示著一個沒有母親的生活的可怕可能性。
我一直對執導歌劇很感興趣，但又有點害怕單打獨鬥。多虧了我那支能力非凡的舞台工作團隊和設計團隊，以及我親愛的朋友 Jacqueline Gourlay-Grant 和指揮 Isaac Droscha 的支持，這次經歷既吸引人又充滿收穫。當然，也必須向這群才華橫溢的歌唱演員致敬，正是他們的勇氣和才華，讓這一切得以圓滿完成。
我們希望您能在這個關於轉變、同理心與療癒的故事中找到美好，並感謝您與我們一同分享這段旅程。
祝您一切美好，
吳羿䝼