To travel hopefully

I saw my first opera in 1988, a couple of years after I started practising psychology. It was Mozart's Magic Flute at the Sydney Opera House: it made a big impression on me and remains one of my favourite operas all these years later. I've always liked a bit of magic in opera, books and life! 

I came at opera from a ballet perspective. In ballet there is beautiful music and movement, but there are no words. Opera also brought the text, so seemed the perfect art form for me. I think opera is particularly suited to psychological themes, and over the centuries many psychopathologies have been played out in operas. Opera often concerns itself with extremes of emotion and human behaviour. Opera is not realistic in the sense that everyone mostly sings. It is often not even rational – particularly with the way it manipulates time. We accept the fantasy and suspend disbelief and are carried away by the music. I'd go anywhere for a good opera! 

Speaking of which, I made my first trip to the renowned opera festival in Aix en Provence in July, primarily to see the world premiere of Picture a day like this by George Benjamin and Martin Crimp (music and text respectively). The opera has a cast of five exceptional voices for whom these parts were written, and music impeccably played by the Mahler Chamber Orchestra. After the Aix Festival it moves to the Royal Opera House (Linbury Theatre) and runs 22 September – 10 October (same production). 

Picture a day like this is a short (65 minute) opera consisting of seven scenes which all happen in one day, centred around the inner, emotional journey of The Woman, Marianne Brebassa.

Scene 1. The Woman steps out of the darkness holding a piece of paper. We learn that her young child has died. She is challenged to 'find one happy person in this world and cut one button from their sleeve'. If she does so within the day her child will live. The Woman accepts and sets off on her journey. 

Scene 2: The Lovers. The Woman comes across a pair of lovers entwined in sexual ecstasy. She thinks she has found happy people until a quarrel breaks out between the lovers when one admits to being polyamorous, assuming his partner knew.

Scene 3: The Artisan. He describes himself as 'an extremely happy man'. His suit is covered with buttons, all of which he made himself. The Woman begins to question him, and the Artisan becomes increasingly agitated, eventually revealing scars from self-harm. He asks for his 'molecule', which is chlorpromazine. He is so far from being happy that he wishes to die and asks the Woman for a knife with which to kill himself. It seems that his happiness is dose dependent. 

Scene 4: The Composer walks in with her Assistant. She seems to have it all – she is young, famous the world over, a brilliant composer, adored by the public. But is she happy? No. Why not? She fears being irrelevant and forgotten. She is plagued by self-doubt. Imposter Syndrome came to my mind. The Composer has every evidence of her ability but remains anxious that her music is 'banal', and she will be relegated to a footnote by history.  

Scene 5: Aria. The Woman continues on searching for her miracle. 'Cold earth – dead stems of flowers come to life again – why not my son'?

Scene 6: The Collector. The Collector has been watching the Woman and offers to relieve her grief. He knows he is on her list and that she wants him to be happy. He says he would be happy if she loved him. He has rooms full of famous artworks which he calls 'miracles'. Personally I thought this was the most interesting encounter, as the Woman's quest would be over if she could love him. For a moment she seemed to be tempted but ultimately, she decides that she could not love him. Eventually she steps into a garden.

Scene 7: Zabelle. The garden, a paradise of sorts, belongs to Zabelle. Her life seemed to be perfect with two children and a husband. But is Zabelle happy? Only because she does not actually exist! As she fades into the dark she twists a button from her sleeve and attempts to hand it to the Woman but is unable due to an invisible barrier that neither are able to cross. The vision of the garden fades away.

The opera ends with the Woman where she began her journey, but with a button in her hand. The opera is simple, intense and profoundly moving – a total gem! Every encounter for the Woman looks promising but isn't. At the start she seems willing to do anything to bring back her son, but as scene 7 reveals, she is not. So where does the button come from?

The first thing to note is that except for Zabelle, the characters do not have names. Are they archetypes? The journey that the woman goes on is not a new one. Death and grief are universal experiences. The paper that the Woman is given lists the people that she will encounter. The Collector has been waiting for her and knows that her journey is nearly at end.

Martin Crimp's story draws on fairytales and fables such as Alice in Wonderland (Lewis Carroll), The Happy Man's Shirt (an Italian folk tale) and Le Petit Prince (Saint-Exupery). Each of these stories take place in unreal landscapes and situations and make various observations on life, happiness, wisdom and human nature. Opera adds music to these stories to further explore and evoke the emotional state of the protagonists.

It is impossible for me to write about this opera and grief without referring to Kubler-Ross. The Woman passes through denial, anger, bargaining, depression and perhaps at the end, acceptance. How can we interpret the button in her hand at the end of the opera? Has she achieved acceptance, perhaps even wisdom? The famous Robert Louis Stevenson quote came to my mind: 'To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive'. The journey of this opera is unreal but the emotions, intensified by music which the characters feel, are real.

In the end, is anyone truly happy? How do we define happiness? It is 'hedonia'? Clearly the lovers were in this state, but the feeling dissolved rapidly. The Composer was successful in her career but was plagued by self-doubt. The Artisan relied on antipsychotic medication to feel happy. The collector owned many artistic masterpieces but was alone and unhappy. And Zabelle did not exist. 

What is authentic happiness? This is a question that Martin Seligman has been investigating for his entire career. He describes a combination of the 'pleasant life', the 'good life' and the 'meaningful life'. This conceptualisation brings together hedonia (increasing pleasure and decreasing pain) eudaimonia (behaving virtuously) and living in accordance with your values and doing something that is worthwhile. Another way psychologists have tried to conceptualise happiness is in mindfulness. This is the act of being aware and content in the present moment. Happiness looks different for everyone, but maybe unhappiness looks the same?

The Aix-en-Provence Festival offers many programmes, and the city also features visual art exhibitions. I went to see an exhibition of the work of Max Ernst (at the Hotel de Caumont until 8 October). One of his most famous paintings 'Epiphany' (named for the day on which it was finished in 1940) is on display. The painting looks like a forest, but on closer inspection you can make out some imaginary creatures. It is somewhere between illusion and reality. I must admit that the garden in the final scene reminded me of this painting, and I think the Woman does experience an epiphany. How did the woman get the button? I would like to think she had it all along, and that her journey's end made it manifest. But go and see what you think.

Reviewed by Dr Vivienne Monk BSc(Hons), MBA, MOHS(Research), PhD, MBPsS, CPsychol