When Modernity Forgets Its Roots: Reflections from the World of Opera
- Jacqueline Solórzano
- 11 hours ago
- 3 min read
By Jacqueline Solórzano
In recent days, statements made by actor Timothée Chalamet—during a public conversation with Matthew McConaughey—sent an unexpected ripple through the world of the performing arts. It was not his tone that struck a chord, but rather the flippancy with which he dismissed two of the very artistic disciplines that have shaped Western culture for centuries: opera and ballet.
At The Opera Atelier, we will not respond with anger. Instead, we are responding with sadness, with reflection, and with the serenity that comes from being artists immersed in the depths of an art form that has survived everything: wars, crises, technological revolutions, and radical cultural shifts.
Opera: The Cradle of Modern Dramaturgy
Long before the existence of cinema—the very art for which Chalamet will likely be decorated—opera already stood. Within it were born many of the principles of acting, dramatic construction, stage direction, and the synthesis of multiple artistic languages into a single creative act.
Opera demands something no camera can replicate: truth in real time.
There are no retakes. There is no editing. There are no filters. There are only human beings facing an audience with absolute honesty, in a space where deception is impossible.
This is why it is disheartening to hear that "no one cares anymore." Not because it is true—the packed houses of New York, London, Paris, Vienna, and Madrid disprove that every night—but because it reveals how little is known about that which is being judged. For instance, tomorrow evening, one need only go to Downtown Miami to see the Florida Grand Opera raise the curtain on Turandot!
Ballet: Discipline, History, and the Body as Language
Ballet is not a relic of the past. It is, perhaps, the foundation of the physical theatricality we see today in cinema, television, advertising, and contemporary visual culture. To disparage it is to ignore that every actor moving before a lens inherits, directly or indirectly, the tradition of the expressive body that ballet perfected. No matter how much Artificial Intelligence is injected into film, the "human" element evaporates quickly if these principles of movement and the art of the HUMAN body are cast aside.
Would We Devalue Velázquez Because the iPhone Exists?
The actor’s words evoke a disturbing image: that of someone entering a museum to remove the paintings of Picasso, Rembrandt, Velázquez, or Da Vinci because "we already have screens to view those images."
Technology does not invalidate art. Modernity does not cancel history. Cinema does not exist in a vacuum; it is the direct offspring of opera, theater, dance, and painting. To forget this is to mistake novelty for depth.
Cinema Can Repeat; Opera Cannot
Cinema possesses the apparent advantage of repetition. A scene can be filmed twenty times until the "perfect" take is achieved—the one that garners awards. It can be edited, corrected, and digitally reconstructed.
Opera, by contrast, is unrepeatable. Every performance is unique. Every breath is singular. Every emotion is a once-in-a-lifetime event. That level of demand is not for everyone. It never has been. It is reserved for artists who create unforgettable milestones in the world of art.
Ignorance is Not a Sin; It is an Opportunity
The point here is not to attack, but to lament that, in a moment of such immense visibility, Chalamet chose to speak from a place of such levity rather than the curiosity we would expect from a young actor.
Opera and ballet do not need his understanding to continue existing. But he might grow—as an actor and as a human being—if he one day allowed himself to discover them in their true dimension, which is certainly not found in the palm of one's hand via a YouTube clip on a cell phone screen.
The Eternal Does Not Compete with the Modern; It Sustains It
Rest easy, dear reader: opera and ballet are not in danger.
What is at risk is the capacity of some young people—those who, like Narcissus, gaze at their own reflection without recognizing the depth that precedes them—to understand that their art did not begin with them. It is part of a millennial chain of creation, sacrifice, and beauty.
One day, perhaps, the mythological mirror will show them this truth. These are youths who prefer to contemplate themselves on a screen rather than face a live audience; who choose to repeat a scene until reaching an artificial perfection, rather than living it with imperfection, risk, and soul.
And in that choice, they suffer.
They suffer in a strange silence where the real audience—the one that breathes, listens, and vibrates—does not exist, and where applause arrives only in the form of awards that are collected for vanity... and eventually, for oblivion.
Culture does not disappear because someone declares it irrelevant. Culture disappears when we stop teaching it, defending it, and reminding the world that the eternal does not compete with the modern: it sustains it.
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