Vicente Molina Foix talks about “El abrecartas” (I)

Vicente Molina Foix: «Este estreno era uno de los grandes sueños de Luis de Pablo».

El abrecartas [The letter opener] is one of the best-known novels by the novelist, poet, playwright and film critic Vicente Molina Foix (Elche, Alicante, 1946). It is a novel that, like a fresco, traces the twentieth century, interspersing real and fictitious characters and, before receiving the Premio Nacional de Narrativa in 2007, it had already been distinguished with the Salambó prize, awarded by the Club Cultura de la FNAC and the Café Salambó in Barcelona.
The work begins with a series of letters written by a childhood friend to the poet Federico García Lorca in the late 1920s and concludes in 1999 with a message exchanged between two anonymous characters over the Internet. Over the course of more than 400 pages, Spanish literary figures such as Vicente Aleixandre, Miguel Hernández, Rafael Alberti, Eugenio D’Ors, José María Castellet and even Fernando Sánchez Dragó pass through its pages. Mixed in with them are other fictional characters with whom he weaves a novel with a choral structure, with many voices that express themselves in epistolary form and, at the same time, explain the drama of what was then, still, our recent history. More than historical fiction, the novel expresses realities that the author knew: intimate stories of people who were overcome by history.
Vicente Molina Foix had already written the librettos for two operas by Luis de Pablo – El viajero indiscreto (1988) and La madre invita a cenar (1992) – when the latter read the novel and saw himself reflected in these stories of war losers. In mid/late 2010, the composer approached his friend, the author of the novel, to create a new libretto for what would be the Spanish composer’s sixth opera. In 2015, after several years of uncertainty as to whether or not it would be premiered, Joan Matabosch, artistic director of the Teatro Real, confirmed to De Pablo the date of its premiere this season: six performances between 16 and 26 February 2020. The only catch… that the composer did not get to see the curtain rise, having passed away on 10 October, at the age of 91. The following interview with Vicente Molina Foix – the first part of which is published today and the second part tomorrow – took place at the Teatro Real in Madrid last week.
How eventful was the creation of El abrecartas? I understand that De Pablo began composing it before he even considered producing it. That is to say: it was not a commission. But he managed to get Gerard Mortier to accept it for the premiere at the Real. However, I believe that Mortier’s cancer, from which he finally died in March 2014, caused him to withdraw from the artistic direction of the theatre and the premiere was delayed. In fact, De Pablo said in an interview that “it was put on hold; other commissions arrived, paid for, and I put it aside”.
I don’t know the details. I do know that Mortier on one occasion, in public, did show his admiration for Luis de Pablo and that an opera of his was going to be produced… Luis took Mortier the entire libretto and a copy of my novel, but as far as I know, the call never happened. Luis was worried about the fate of the work. For him it was a very delicate matter, because he trusted Mortier very much and considered him a friend.
The news that reached me is that when Mortier died and was replaced by Joan Matabosch, he found the libretto and the novel in a drawer. That is what Matabosch told us one day when we met him to ask him about the possible premiere.
I have read that the idea of making an opera out of your novel El abrecartas, for which you received the Premio Nacional de Narrativa in 2007, was Luis’ idea.
Yes, in this case, the adaptation was requested by the musician. Luis proposed it to me at the end of the third quarter of 2010. I told him who I thought could do the adaptation, but he insisted that I do it and I finished the adaptation in 2013. But I want to make it clear that this El abrecartas is Luis’. My novel is there, but this libretto will be given transcendence by the music. And I have been able to begin to hear the music in a piano version, in rehearsals without an orchestra, but from what Fabián Panisello, the musical director, has told me, there will be 111 musicians. He has told me that, because of the distance the pandemic forces, the pit will be full and there will also be eight boxes filled with musicians. More than in Twilight of the Gods, the Wagner opera which coincides with the same dates at the same venue, which occupies four boxes.

Luis made a final challenge and wanted to say goodbye with the biggest orchestra that could have had one of his works…
There is an idea, which we all admit (and which we journalists spread) that opera is “by” Puccini, “by” Verdi, “by” Mozart… And the authors of the librettos, unless one is interested in tracking them down (i.e. Wagner, who was the author of his librettos), are relegated to second place.
Of course, I believe that the librettist is fundamental, but not because I am the librettist in this case. I have always known that. In one of the great contemporary operas, The Child and the Spells: a lyrical fantasy in two parts, the libretto is by Colette and it is a marvel. Cocteau, Gertrude Stein…, great poets and great novelists have written opera librettos. It is a subject that, out of my own interest and curiosity, I have followed. The truth is that it doesn’t make an opera better, but it is a reality. But the music is what gives the libretto its entity. There is the paradox that there are great operatic masterpieces that have bad librettos, and that is frequent. But the opposite, that there is a great libretto and the music fails, rarely happens. A good libretto helps the music, but a bad libretto does not kill the opera. And there are notable examples of the latter in Mozart and Handel. From the 19th century onwards, more care began to be taken with librettos. Turandot, for example, is a marvel as a play. And Auden’s librettos for Henze or Stravinsky are wonderful.
I’ve sometimes thought of doing the opera project the other way round: that the author of the libretto would offer three different composers, one for each act, the creation of the scores… In this way the merit of the libretto would be more recognised.
This could be done with El abrecartas, because there is a “second act” which does not appear in this opera. The opera was created with the first 200 pages, half of the novel. It’s no secret, I’ve already mentioned it on occasion, nor does it change the quality of the opera in any way, but I did the complete adaptation and Luis called me one day and told me that he had finished the first act, and added that, if I wanted, the next day he would begin with the second act, but that there was another possibility: that I could end in the first act, with an a cappella duet on some verses by Aleixandre from La destrucción o el amor, which, he said, were the best thing he had ever written… And that it would be a beautiful ending to the opera. And I replied that I thought it was perfect, because this El abrecartas was his. Mine is the novel.
But, of course, knowing that the ending was going to be the one he had chosen, I asked him, and he granted me, to let me redo a few things so that the round ending of the music would also be the round ending of the libretto. Because in the novel some of the characters in the first part die and adjustments had to be made so that there would be no loose narrative threads. So the second act stayed on my computer and is practically finished.
Since it has not been possible to premiere El abrecartas during Luis’ lifetime, do you know if the Real is considering the possibility of a tribute to De Pablo in the future, consisting of a performance in one or two seasons of his six operas, or at least the three he did with you?
I hope so! I know that, while waiting for El abrecartas, Luis was also pushing this idea. Maybe José Ramón Encinar, who was involved in it, knows something about it. Luis wanted the revival of the definitive version of El viajero indiscreto. People around me told me that it had become too long and, after a few years, Luis started to make an abridged version and asked me to cut some things out of the text. And that revised, definitive version remains unpublished and was one of his great dreams. The first, of course, was the premiere of El abrecartas, but he was also enthusiastic about the other. And I know he spoke to several venues, but I can’t give you any more details.
Is there going to be more life for El abrecartas after the six performances this February?
They haven’t said anything to me. Of course, El abrecartas touches on the history of our country and the novel is still alive. And I would very much like, for Luis, that, as you have said, at least Kiu – which was the first of his operas -, La señorita Cristina – which had a great staging, by Francisco Nieva, at the Teatro Real – and the one he wanted to re-premiere, El viajero indiscreto, because it had changed so much.
The bad thing about things is that they come when people have died. Luis has had a long life, fortunately, but he has been left without seeing those two dreams come true.
These are the things of Spain: he even said, in his last interview, in Scherzo magazine, that he could have been Canadian: “I was offered the opportunity. But as it happened when Franco died, I thought that I could do something in my country. What an illusion!”.
That’s very Luis. Spain has not been very careful with its musicians. Luis de Pablo was more admired in France than in Spain…

… Or in Italy, which holds part of his legacy, and where he was awarded the Golden Lion at the Venice Biennale in 2020.
Luis was very excited about the Golden Lion. Due to the pandemic and travel constraints, he was unable to collect it in person, but when he received it he was thrilled. It is a very beautiful trophy of considerable size and Luis often stopped to look at it.