verything :~bout this is s urreal.

Waiting patiently to pass through

the metal detector, we glance upward through the concertina wire
to see a rainbow reaching out from
an otherwise forbidding sky.
The guards instruct \1!'; to surrender our
driver'!; licenses. We are then onlt:red to
turn over anything else in our possession
U1at might be fashioned into a weapon. Uneasy gigglP.s punctuate the air. We, too, it
seems, are being pr(){;essed into the penitentiary.
Once through the m etal detector, chap-

erones escort us to a holdiug area and invite us Lo help ourselves to coffee, punch,
and cookies . It is a c:nrious mix ot people.
By their dress and demeanor, several
guests appear to be aficionados of thP.
opera. Several other s, jmlging- by their
badges and serious demeanor, appe;u to

b e p1ison staff. We meet a reporter from Miami's New Times. He is conspicuous by his
yellow leg~l pad and probing nature. Beyo111l that, it is hnrd to tell justwho the rest of these
people are. Relatives of U1e chorus, perhaps?
Iu a few minutes , the chaperon~>s lead us to another part of ilie complex - the prison
chapel. Here wP. find ourseives rubbing elbow::. with several inmates in thP.ir prison garb,
aS well as camera crews fi-~mlocal and national television stations. An interview wiU1 one
of the leads, Mabel Ledo, a mezzo-soprano, unfolds before us. Sht: glows on camera and
talks reflectively a hout the meaning of her involvement in the evening's prorluction. She
is soft-spoken and delica!;e-lookiug, a stark contrast to the c.onvicts surrounding h er. Tht:re
is an electridty in the air, 'U'tuzz that suggP.sts something important i:s about to happen. It
is opening night at the opera
r'.avaUeria Rusticana, a melodral!la in one net by Pietro Ma!':c.agni, was tirst performed
in 1890 in Rome. T onight's performance feahm~s five professional opera :;iugers and a chorus of inmates from the Dade Correctional Institution, a maximum security prison _The
i,nmates have refined their operatic t.alt:uts under the tutelage ofRillando Valdes, the prison
librarian and choru:; tlirector. Valdes, an opera bnff, introduced the inmates lu opera mor e
than a decade ago. To his surprise, they not only le arned lo appreciate opera, they aspired
to sing it Evf'r since, he has worked with U1em in his free time, honing their skills. Thanks
to a grant from the Miami-Dade County Cultural Affairs Council and the gent:J osity of a
handful of professional opera singen; who lent their time, voice:>, dlld expertise to the learning process, tonight is the culmination of a drt:am; a public perfonnancf'.
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After a synopsis of the plot and a warmup of the chorus under the direction of
Valdes, we are ready to begin. The leads
are in costume; the chorus is not. The
lights stay up. Nevertheless, once Turiddu
(played by tenor Edgardo Sensi) begins a
plaintive love song offstage to his mistress
Lola (played by Ledo), the harsh circumstances surrounding the opera recede, and
the audience is left to contemplate the
beauty of the tenor's voice. As he sings,
"0, Lola," one can almostfeel a stretching,
reaching, uplifting quality. Soon the prison
chorus enters and adds its voice to the developing drama. The members of the chorus ar~ stiff at first and appear uncomfortable. But, of course, they are amateurs. As
the opera proceeds, they relax and begin to
enjoy themselves. The audience reinforces
their efforts. Everybody in the room wants
them to succeed.
As the performers sing their way
through a plot filled with longing, infidelity, and revenge, some members of the audience look past the prisoners to see the
"people" beneath the uniforms. In this
frame of mind, it is easy to forget just why
these inmates have wound up in their current situation. Other more inquisitive audience members continue to ask themselves, "Who's in for what?"
The opera builds to its climax and then,
all too soon, it is over. The audience breaks
into resounding applause. The leads take
their bows, as do the chorus, the pianist,
and Valdes. Before handing out roses,
Valdes thanks the Miami-Dade County
Cultural Affairs Council, prison superintendent Willie Floyd Sr., and several other
prison officials for making this evening
possible. Television interviews with chorus members follow. It is all very curious.
This has been a celebration, it seems, of
life's possibilities.
Amid the festivity, the prison staff look
concerned. This is a time when people may
relax, let down their guard, and forget
where they are. A burly official takes command of center stage and announces in a
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harsh conditions of prison life to the soft qualities of classical music and the beauty of the
human voice. What is going on here? How do the inmates perceive this situation? Is it sim-

distinct, forceful voice, "Civilians to the

right, and prisoners to the left!" There is no
doubt that he means business. He has, in
his own way, brought down t,~e final curtain.
We are quickly escorted out of the
chapel to the holding area. Through a series of remote-controlled gates, we finally
reach the entrance station and retrieve our
driver's licenses and other belongings.
Then, while the prisoners file back to their
cells, we are bid a cordial farewell and
turned loose into the Florida night with the
daunting task of putting all that we have
just witnessed into perspective.
The Search for Meaning

There is a risk of reading too much into

this. Nonetheless, it seems remarkable
that felons doing hard time for crimes ranging from armed robbery to drug dealing to
rape to murder would find something in
opera that captures their imagination. Even
more remarkable is the contrast of the

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ply a diversion from the monotony of everyday prison life? Or is there more to it than that?
Is it somehow therapeutic? Could it even be redemptive?
Interviews with chorus members, published in the Miami Herald, offer some clues.
Raymond York, 29, in prison for murder, said: "My cell has two bunks, a toilet, a sink and
a mirror. It looks like a bathroom with two beds in it. But I can sit back, close my eyes,
sing-and put myself somewhere else instead." Another, 37-year-old Scott Phillips, incarcerated for selling drugs, added: "I'm angry at myself. Singing helps me release that anger
and forgive myself." Jorge Pedrera, 49, also in for murder, said: "Before in my prison life,
I was involved in a lot of drugs and a lot of violence. But opera has gotten me out of all
that." Other members of the chorus used words such as escape and liberation to describe
the feeling that comes with operatic singing. Is it possible that people who have had their
physical freedom taken away can transcend their confinement through song? And if so, is
that desirable?
Advocates argue that transcendence is, indeed, desirable, and any program that rehabilitates prisoners or gives them a taste of SOil)ething good and positive in life can only be
beneficial. The more that inmates can emulate socially desirable behaviors, the better. The
more they can learn tg appreciate what makes life within the law worth living, the more
inclined they will become to live within the law when released. Despite their crimes, these
people are not to be abandoned; punishment is not the sole purpose of incarceration.
Prison should also prepare the incarcerated for another chance.
Skeptics will qu~tion the wisdom of programs such as this. Do we really want to relieve prisoners of their moral guilt, make them feel good about themselves, help them feel
psychologically free? Indeed, the presence of television cameras at the opera- and subsequent interviews with the inmates - conveyed a celebrity status that seemed inappropriate to many in attendance.
Still others reason that regardless of the Inmate Opera Club's therapeutic value, it simply behooves society to treat prisoners with civility. Just because some among them have
treated others brutishly, it does not mean others should treat them in the same fashion.
In fact, it is this "civilized nature" that separates civilians from prisoners. Eugenia Grimaldi, a professional opera singer and supporter of the club, concluded that however one feels

Questions of a different nature arise

redarding inmates who will spend the rest
of their lives in prison. For them, the value
of the Inmate Opera Club must be measured in terms other than rehabilitation for
life after prison. For these inmates, operatic singing is limited to a form of catharsis, an assuaging of guilt, ~way to temporarily escape what otherwi'if'er~iet~aned
to be a life of confinement
On Making a Difference

The Inmate Opera Club is also testimony to the impact one person can have on
the lives of others. Valdes has volunteered
his time and energy for more than a decade
to enrich the lives of inmates in the Dade
Correctional Institution. He strives to see
the person beyond the prisoner. His willingness to treat inmates with dignity and
respect has led to accomplishments that
would have otherwise been nearly impossible. Those who aspire to make a difference with the work they do can surely profit from his example.
And finally, would earlier contact with a
person such as Valdes have meant a different direction for some of these inmates?
Is there a preventive power in recreation
programs that can thwart the onset of antisocial behavior? If so, what unrealized
benefits might society reap by allocating
more of its resources to programs such as
these before - rather than after- problems arise?
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