(2 of 2)
Expensively Dressed. The Moog synthesizer was a must. Mercury corralled Rock Singer Melba Moore, Soprano Anita Darian, the Detroit Symphony under Paul Paray, William Walker from the Metropolitan Opera, Harlem's Mary Bruce and Her Starbuds ("The name at the very least deserves to be seen in print," declared Corigliano), Actor-Singer George Turner, Pianist John Atkins and Tenor Robert White. One year and $50,000 later, The Naked Carmen emerged as one of the year's most expensively dressed nonclassical albums.
It sold about 25,000 copies in its first six weeks, and several producers are trying to figure out how to get it onstage without tarnishing its weirdo luster. Like Tommy, the recent attempt by The Who (TIME, June 22), it is a try at a rock opera for the phonograph. Thanks to the range of skills represented by Hess and Corigliano, The Naked Carmen comes impressively close to success.
Corigliano is classically trained, the 32-year-old son of John Corigliano Sr., who for 22 years was concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic. Until recently, his music has been aimed at the concert stage. Hess, too, was originally trained in classical music, though he switched to writing songs like Pat Boone's Speedy Gonzales and Elvis Presley's I Got Stung. Now 33, burly and bushy-haired, he is an eccentric complement to the well-mannered, boyish Corigliano. When the latter begins to sound overserious, Hess smiles warmly, utters an extravagantly pornographic non sequitur, or simply stands on his head. Outside the studio, they move in different worlds. "But," says Hess, "we are a very successful discollaboration."