Plácido Effect
Two disgraced perverts used to do opera
The Spanish tenor Domino Plácido is in the news again, this time found soliciting prostitutes from a criminal sex cult. Yesterday it was reported that a group of Plácido’s musical associates were arrested in connection with the Buenos Aires Yoga School (EYBA). The disturbing (and I mean gut wrenching) organized ring was busted in a series of over 50 raids following an investigation in which Plácido was implicated. The entire EYBA story is remarkable. I assumed the “criminal sex cult” bit was just some editorial hyperbole (this is about an opera star after all) but that’s exactly what authorities found According to reports, prostitution accounted for just a third of the syndicate’s income — the cult part, made profitable by an extortion scheme, and an international healthcare scam made up the rest.
I don’t really want to write about Domino Plácido’s sex crimes. And I don’t need to. By Monday most people in classical music will have seen at least two solid NPR articles about the whole thing. For most, Domino Plácido will become ever more a pariah. But as the art vs artist debate always goes, some will choose to stay in his camp, and the reason why they choose to stay is worth examining.
I have to get picky about the last time Plácido came up. There are now over 36 people claiming to have witness or experienced sexual misconduct by the tenor. Two independent investigations found the initial 9 allegations of sexual assault credible. In spite of all this, Plácido’s international performing schedule didn’t really suffer until the pandemic hit. Conservative Spaniards (all involved in opera, if you can believe it) jumped to defend their boy. The Spanish soprano Ainhoa Arteta told the Madrid newspaper El País, “you cannot destroy a career of so many years.” It’s true that Plácido’s American touring schedule crumbled into dust. It probably helped that the alleged transgressions happened in America. But it’s also true that he was almost entirely unscathed in Europe and South America. He had been cancelled in the US, and lived to tell the tale.
“But,” some will say, “he made good music! We need to leave well enough alone, no slander. He rose above all that. He has an important body of work.”
This is the argument used by Arteta for Plácido. It’s the argument King’s record label used for King. It’s the argument used to excuse von Karajan and Furtwängler. They use it for Levine too, who they continue to admire after his fall from grace, and still now after his death. I’m going to talk a little bit about that perception of Levine, so that we can understand when it inevitably happens to Plácido.
The first mistake is that Levine’s apostles misattribute criticisms of his character to criticism of his musical ability. Some of these people are just telling on themselves, revealing deep insecurities that they too might one day get the Levine treatment. Others get caught up in ego. They excuse the action in order to examine the music — “well sure he abused young men, but…” They find what makes him exceptional — “Boston never sounded better! His tenure at the Met was unmatched.” They talk themselves up a mountain — “and his legacy is too great to dismantle.” This is the second mistake. By defending the musician, they allow themselves to avoid judging the man. He becomes one of us again. The best of us, from before he was tarnished. And to be clear, the man always was one of us. He was aided and abetted by industry professionals similarly enamored with his celebrity, and we must never forget that. But they aren’t interested in talking about all that. To them, it’s a simple matter of respect: he was one of us. The least we can do is give his music the time of day.
This knee-jerk reaction is made more insidious by that acknowledgement of the man that] comes before the defense of the musician.1 They acknowledge that the man has deeply disturbed our craft and the people in it. They acknowledge that the man is rotten. But the musician is too irresistible. They can’t stop themselves from talking a little shop — from rationalizing the man by exploring the musician. This proclivity is one of the consequences of the universalist approach to music, the idea that the musician transcends the man in order to become something greater. The big irony to all of this is that whatever ubiquitous, beautiful art they believe in is inevitably perverted by the inclusion of such a person. You can’t let Uncle Touchy supervise a bus full of kids while you pretend to represent thoughtful, world-changing music. It makes you a hack and a fraud. And you can't remove the man from the musician.
But some hero worshippers fall short of accepting Levine for all that he was. They can’t fathom that an ugly person can make beautiful music. That ability is a redeeming quality to them. It’s good to do music. It scrubs out every disgusting transgression. Not only have they opened Levine back up to artistic interpretation, they’ve thrown their hat in the ring, choosing the perception of quality over their obligation to fellow man. It’s a deeply arrogant way to engage with art that leaves every reward intact for the next troglodyte who comes along. The mature debate to have isn’t about whether Levine was good. The debate is about whether he deserves to be judged at all.
With all of this said. I also want to point out that Plácido is a multi millionaire. He has well more than he deserves in this life and the next. The opportunity to perform for and be received by a friendly audience are such incredible privileges to begin with — I don’t feel a lot of sympathy for someone who fucks their way out of both. This goes for every Uncle Touchy worried about his legacy, about salvaging his career. Maybe you can’t live without music, but there are plenty who live without a roof over their head. Why don’t you see how they’re doing?
Still talking about Levine here, but this will surely happen with Plácido as his sexcapades become officially criminal and are therefore more difficult for industry heads to ignore.