Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

Jonathan Tessero’s Hunt to Know the (Musical) Score

by Janine Boylan on December 16, 2013

A butterfly on a musical score, symbolizing Jonathan Tessero's life passion for music and his search for Offenbach's original music to the ballet, Le papillon. (Image © Anna Maria Thor / iStock)

Where was the original musical score for the ballet Le papillon?
© Anna Maria Thor / iStock

A Life Passion for Music, A Love of Ballet

When conductor Jonathan Tessero heard a recording of Jacques Offenbach’s single ballet Le papillon (The Butterfly), he fell in love with it. He wanted to know how Offenbach could direct stringed instruments to perfectly mimic butterflies. So Tessero went looking for the original score.

He found plenty of information about the composer, the history of the performances, the story line. He found audio recordings and videos of parts of the choreography. He found the modern adaptation John Lanchbery did for the Houston Ballet.

Even with his passion for music and his dedication to the hunt, he could not find the original musical score.

In an age where so much information is at our fingertips, how could this be possible?

Act One

In the 1860s when Offenbach wrote this ballet (as well as his famous can-can music), every note was written by hand on paper.

Each page of the score contained just a few measures for each of the thirty instruments. The entire score was many hundreds of pages of notes.

Offenbach would have written the original copy, or the autographed copy. Then he or other scribes might have spent hours hand-making another copy or two.

At the time, the only way to perform this music was to have one of these original copies. Opera houses, libraries, and collectors kept scores like these safe.

And yet somehow Offenbach’s original score had been lost.

Emma Livry in the ballet Le papillon, whose musical score was the subject of a search by Jonathan Tessero. (Image from National Library of France)

Ballerina Emma Livry in Le papillon, 1861
Image from National Library of France

Act Two

Tessero, a young conductor whose resume includes recordings with numerous Broadway casts and orchestras, was baffled. “This work was done in 1860 and lasted for a hundred years and then it was lost. In the modern day, when we can track anything, we lost it.”

Tessero started following some leads.

Scene 1: The Professor

The recording he had first heard was done in 1972 by conductor Richard Bonynge and the London Symphony Orchestra.

Tessero contacted Bonynge, who lives in Europe, and learned that the score he used was a copy. More precisely, it was a series of printed photographs that he had received from the owner of the autographed original, a professor in the midwestern United States. And the photos were not in great shape.

In addition, that professor, George Verdak from Indiana University, had since died. While Verdak had known the treasure he had in the autographed copy, keepers of his estate didn’t. So after his death, his copy was misplaced—perhaps sold at an estate sale, bundled up in papers returned to the university, or placed in a storage box.

Scene Two: The Italian

Simultaneously, Tessero learned of another copy in Italy. When he tried to acquire it, he was told that they do not lend it out because it is a very, very old version of the original, and the next time it is touched, it could be ruined. (Tessero plans to visit this copy one day. He won’t touch it, but he has to see it.)

Scene Three: The Librarian

Tessero also traced a copy from the Paris Opera Ballet.

About thirty years ago, the Paris Opera Ballet donated their precious scores to the National Library of France. But when Tessero contacted the library, they were unable to locate this specific document.

So after nine months of searching, Tessero wasn’t close to finding the original music. He put the project aside.

Butterfly musician, symbolizing Jonathan Tessero's hunt for Offenbach's original musical score for the ballet Le papillon. (Image © Lidiya Drabchuk / Hemera)

Offenbach’s original score would reveal how notes could mimic a butterfly’s movement.
© Lidiya Drabchuk / Hemera

Scene Four: The Finale

A few months later, out of the blue, a librarian from the National Library of France contacted Tessero. They had discovered, not the autographed copy, but a microfilm copy of the original score.

Oh, I see! A breakthrough.

The library sent him a copy of the microfilm, and partially for himself and partially to ensure the future of the ballet, Tessero has been transcribing the score from the microfilm to a digital file. He anticipates the task will take about a year to complete.

Once the music is all digitally input, Tessero hopes to achieve his ultimate goal: “One day a ballet company will do it, and I will get to stand there and conduct it, and then my geek dream will have come true.”

Jonathan Tessero, whose life passion for music and love of ballet led him on a search to find Offenbach's original musical score for the ballet Le papillon. (Image © Jonathan Tessero)

Jonathan Tessero has worked on Broadway musicals, a Super Bowl, and the Macy’s
Thanksgiving Day Parade. He plans to add Offenbach’s ballet to that list.
Image © Jonathan Tessero

Postlude: The Story

While the two-act-four-scene original score has been difficult to find, there is a lot of well-documented history of the piece and its story, thanks to the liner notes Professor Verdak wrote for the London Symphony recording.

As Tessero says, “Most ballets have a theme of nature, or love, or magic. This one has them all!”

Briefly, the story is that a jealous, old and evil fairy transforms a young princess (whom the fairy has kidnapped) into a butterfly. A prince discovers the butterfly-girl’s true identity and captures the wicked fairy. The spell on the girl is broken, the fairy is transformed into a statue, and the prince and princess can live happily ever after.

This snippet is a better representation of the magic in the story and the score.

If the video does not display, watch it here

Speaking about the year’s work to transcribe the ballet’s musical score, Tessero reveals again his passion for music, “I truly love the piece. If it wasn’t worth listening to, it would be harder.”

We look forward to listening as you conduct it, Jonathan!

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

The Harmony of Hope: Tsunami Violins

by Janine Boylan on November 18, 2013

Tsunami violins illustrate cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Design by Muneyuki Nakazawa)

Muneyuki Nakazawa’s tsunami violins,
each with a solitary pine tree painted on its back.
Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation

Healing with Cross-Cultural Contributions

If music is healing, then it follows that violins can also bring healing.

Master luthier Muneyuki Nakazawa has constructed two violins with the goal of bringing harmony and healing to a devastated Japanese community.

Moving from Disaster

After the 8.9 magnitude earthquake and subsequent tsunami in March of 2011, Nakazawa felt that he needed to do something for his community.

He visited the ruined shores of the city of Rikuzentakata, Japan, strewn with broken trees that had been ripped from the ground.

Nakazawa (right), with piles of wood for tsunami violins, illustrating the cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation)

Nakazawa (right) at Rikuzentakata, with piles of wood broken by the tsunami.
Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation

He couldn’t help but notice that a single miracle pine stood in the spot on the beach where nearly 70,000 pine trees had been rooted before the disaster.

Solitary pine tree, symbol for tsunami violins, illustrating cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image by Takata Matsubara)

solitary pine tree
Image by Takata Matsubara

He had his “Oh, I see” moment: he would build violins from the splintered wood. Nakazawa worked with several local experts to choose and collect wood from the piles of rubble. Then he took the wood back to his shop where, over the next several months, he crafted the pieces into violins.

On the back of each, he painted the miracle pine, as a symbol of hope and continued life.

Muneyuki Nakazawa making tsunami violin, illustrating cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation)

Muneyuki Nakazawa carves a tsunami violin.
Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation

Continuing the Plan

But Nakazawa’s idea didn’t stop there.

Inspired by the Japanese tradition of folding 1,000 paper cranes to fulfill a wish, Nakazawa’s dream was to have the violins played by 1,000 people around the world. Taizo Oba worked with him to launch the project, named “The Bond Made of 1,000 Tones.”

In an interview with Yoree Koh of Wall Street Journal’s blog Japan Real Time, Nakazawa explains,

This isn’t a violin meant to play big concertos in a large concert hall. That should be left to other violins. I wanted to make a tender sounding violin that consoles people. This is a violin for the people in the disaster zones, for people who have grieved over lost loved ones and for the souls of those who died from this tragedy.

The project encourages anyone who wishes to play one of the instruments, young or old, experienced or amateur, to apply.

The Tour

Exactly one year after the devastating storm, on March 11, 2012, Israeli violinist Ivry Gitlis debuted the first violin at a benefit concert in Rikuzentakata. An audience member recorded the moment.

If the video does not display, watch it here.

Gitlis put the music he played in the violin case and handed it along to the next artist. Each person who plays is encouraged to add to the notes in the case.

Kimiko Nakazawa with tsunami violin, illustrating cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation)

Kimiko Nakazawa
Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation

Since then, the two violins have been featured around the world in the hands of artists from many cultures who support the effort of healing the community.

  • Nakazawa’s wife, renowned violinist Kimiko Nakazawa has performed with the violin.
  • Cairo-born violinist Atef Halim, who is French and plays regularly in Japan, has played tsunami violins in April and October of 2013. You can hear him playing a tsunami violin in a video posted October 27 on his Facebook page.
  • The Crown Prince Naruhito of Japan played a tsunami violin in Tokyo on July 7, 2013.
  • Kevin Chen of the World Civic Orchestra played one in New York City on June 9, 2013.
  • Juilliard graduate Erika Mitsui played a tsunami violin at the Japan Society in New York City on March 11, 2013. She was the 119th violinist to play the instrument.
  • The first duets of the violins were performed by Adrian Justus and his teacher, Mexico-based Japanese violinist Yuriko Kuronuma in January 2013.
  • French violinist Gérard Poulet played the violin in Tokyo in August 2012.
Gérard Poulet plays a tsunami violin, illustrating cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image by Minoru Watanabe)

Gérard Poulet
Image by Minoru Watanabe

Moving into The Future

At the end of October, the violins were played inside the world’s first inflatable concert hall, a purple balloon-like structure called Ark Nova, in the hard-struck city of Matsushima, Japan. This partnership of violins and concert hall can travel to many of the other areas struck by the 2011 storm and help give the people a respite from the rebuilding that is still happening around them.

Nakazawa shared with The Japan Times,“The rebirth of (driftwood into) the two small violins can continue conveying what happened on March 11 beyond this generation.” He imagines that it will take years to fulfill his dream of 1,000 tones.

Violins built of broken wood, played by cross-cultural artists around the globe, are bringing a harmony of hope that is sure to continue for decades.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Sunny with a Chance of Cherry Blossom Petals

by Janine Boylan on April 15, 2013

Japantown Cherry Blossom Festival, showing Japanese cultural traditions

cherry blossoms in San Francisco’s Japantown
© Janine Boylan

The Beauty in Japanese Traditions

This time of year, many families in Japan are not checking weather sites for weather but for sakura, which are cherry blossom forecasts. This is the season for hanami, or picnics under the pale pink blossoms.

The Cherry Blossom Custom

Centuries ago, emperors and elite began the practice of cherry blossom viewing. Over the years, more and more people adopted the custom, and, in the 1700s, Shogun ruler Tokugawa Yoshimune planted cherry trees specifically to encourage the tradition. Now viewing cherry blossoms is a deeply-rooted part of the Japanese culture.

Like many of the Japanese customs, viewing cherry blossoms is meant to be an appreciation for beauty and detail. It’s the same attention to detail that is required for other Japanese arts, such as complex origami, precise flower-arranging, and flawless zen gardens.

Japanese Cherry Blossom Festival, showing Japanese cultural traditions

cherry blossoms
© Janine Boylan

A Local Celebration

I was not ready to notice any good details when I arrived at the Cherry Blossom Festival in San Francisco’s Japantown. It had taken some serious strategy to wrestle a parking spot, and the sidewalks were packed with people shoulder-to-shoulder. On top of all that, my camera wasn’t working, and I had to rely on my loyal, but less high definition, phone to document the day.

I rushed past a blur of trees, top-heavy with pink blossoms, to view the performance arena.

On stage were the San Francisco Taiko Dojo. The performers were magically pounding the front, back, and sides of giant drums. The rhythm quickly beat out the frustration I had felt on the journey to this spot.

taiko drums at Japanese Cherry Blossom Festival, showing Japanese cultural traditions

Taiko drummers display energy, rhythm, and grace.
© Janine Boylan

And then I noticed the petals. The delicate pink cherry blossom petals were gently wafting through the taiko performance, as if they were sprinkling their approval.

Japanese Cherry Blossom Festival, showing Japanese cultural traditions

Falling petals are sprinkled in a fountain.
© Janine Boylan

It was a classic Oh, I See moment. This is what the festival was about: noticing the details and beauty around us. I needed to keep my eyes open for that.

Taking Time for Tea

A tea ceremony after the drumming reinforced this lesson.

Japanese Tea Ceremony during Cherry Blossom Festival, showing Japanese cultural traditions

Accepting the bowl of tea
© Janine Boylan

Like the tradition of appreciating cherry blossoms, the tea ceremony has been part of the Japanese culture for hundreds of years.

It is a meticulously planned event which includes carefully chosen utensils and perfectly arranged flowers.

During the ceremony, a trained host prepares tea for guests by following a procedure that has been studied and practiced for years. The beauty in the ceremony is in how gracefully the host moves, the inlaid decorations in the tea scoop, the selection and arrangement of the flowers, and hundreds of other thoughtful details.

Japanese Tea Ceremony during Cherry Blossom Festival, showing Japanese cultural traditions

The hostess prepares tea during the traditional Japanese tea ceremony.
© Janine Boylan

Reconsidering the Day

It forced me to think back to my morning and appreciate all of the details I had missed in my hurry.

Sure, getting parking had been a hassle for a few minutes. But the spot I found was very close to the festival and just perfect.

Yes, I didn’t have my bigger camera, but I at least I did have a phone camera, so not all was lost.

And I was reminded to stop and smell view the flowers.

Turns out that participating in the Japanese cherry blossom cultural tradition had yielded a perfect day, down to the last detail.

If you would like to attend the Northern California Cherry Blossom Festival in San Francisco, the event continues April 20-21, with the Grand Parade on Sunday afternoon.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Copyright © 2011-2025 OIC Books   |   All Rights Reserved   |   Privacy Policy