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Seeing Through: A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera
The true confessions of a working opera an exhilarating story of "a life that comes out of chaos."
At eight years old, Ricky Ian Gordon pulled The Victor Book of Opera off his piano teacher’s bookshelf, and his world shifted on its axis. Though scandal, sadness, and confusion would shake that world over the next few decades, its polestar remained constant. Music has been the guiding force of Gordon’s life; through it, he has been able not only to survive great sorrow but also to capture the depths of his emotion in song. It is this strength, this technical and visceral genius, that has made him one of our generation’s greatest composers.
In Seeing Through , Gordon writes with humor, insight, and incredible candor about his life and a tumultuous youth on Long Island, his artistic collaborations and obsessions, the creation of his compositions (including The Grapes of Wrath , 27 , Orpheus and Euridice , Intimate Apparel , Ellen West , and more), his addictions and the abuses he endured, and the loss of his partner to AIDS and the devastation of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. As Gordon writes of that “We were, thousands of us, Lazarus. We had to rise from the ashes. We didn’t have to rebuild our lives, we had to build new ones.”
Gordon has succeeded in building a remarkable life, as well as a body of work that bears witness to all he survived in the process―one that will endure as a pivotal chapter in America's songbook.
At eight years old, Ricky Ian Gordon pulled The Victor Book of Opera off his piano teacher’s bookshelf, and his world shifted on its axis. Though scandal, sadness, and confusion would shake that world over the next few decades, its polestar remained constant. Music has been the guiding force of Gordon’s life; through it, he has been able not only to survive great sorrow but also to capture the depths of his emotion in song. It is this strength, this technical and visceral genius, that has made him one of our generation’s greatest composers.
In Seeing Through , Gordon writes with humor, insight, and incredible candor about his life and a tumultuous youth on Long Island, his artistic collaborations and obsessions, the creation of his compositions (including The Grapes of Wrath , 27 , Orpheus and Euridice , Intimate Apparel , Ellen West , and more), his addictions and the abuses he endured, and the loss of his partner to AIDS and the devastation of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. As Gordon writes of that “We were, thousands of us, Lazarus. We had to rise from the ashes. We didn’t have to rebuild our lives, we had to build new ones.”
Gordon has succeeded in building a remarkable life, as well as a body of work that bears witness to all he survived in the process―one that will endure as a pivotal chapter in America's songbook.
480 pages, Hardcover
First published July 23, 2024
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214 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
March 27, 2024
I'm biased of course as this is my uncle's book and I've read it chapter by chapter as he worked through it. Ricky's distinctive and delightful voice comes through so clearly in this laugh-outloud-funny but also tragic, moving, beautiful and at times terrifying read full of gossip (interactions with Stephen Sondheim and Tony Kushner are both particularly hysterical), exquisite music, shocking revelations (even for me) and above all, joy. This book is just so much fun to read and I know it will be a big hit.
August 15, 2025
From OperaToday by James Sohre
One of contemporary opera’s most brilliant and prolific composers, the inestimable Ricky Ian Gordon, has not only laid bare his soul, but also richly chronicled the peaks and valleys of the routes to his creative output in Seeing Through: A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera.
This confessional, obsessional, processional of the high roads and low roads that brought Mr. Gordon inexorably to his current estate of mind, hopscotches place, time, and musical projects to piece together a compelling mosaic of his soul, an image that is often profound, sometimes profane, frequently fragile, recurrently laser-focused, and all in all, wondrously laid bare for us to dissect. It seems there is not one sentence of this sizable opus that is not infused with fiery passion and keen determination.
The first two words of the title perhaps mean seeing ‘things’ through, or maybe seeing through ‘artifice,’ both of which the author has emphatically done; or maybe even seeing life through ‘a filter,’ of optimism, melancholy, and at times, unbounded joy.
Ricky Ian Gordon (courtesy of Ricky Ian Gordon)
I have spent a very small amount of memorable time with Ricky, who was congenial and warm, with a hail-fellow-well-met assurance that did not in any way prepare me for the despairing depths, phobias, fears, and faux pas that have colored and peppered his childhood, young adulthood, and maturation. Having been clued in by this revelatory book, he seems to me now as a lovely, composed swan, sleekly and serenely floating on a lake of success, all the while his feet are frantically pedaling beneath the surface, urging him forward, or maybe in purposeful escape from some encroaching misfortune.
Any aspiring or maturing artist should find enormous resonance with his conquests and triumphs, to be sure. They might also recognize themselves in the dynamic of “opportunities missed” as well as “actions regretted.” But please don’t think this is a heavy-handed, rueful slog through bathos, no! The astonishingly frequent rays of light, laugh out loud quips, and humorous admissions of self-confessed personality quirks are always lurking in the narrative to spring up in sassy surprise.
For gay men, in particular, there will be enormous empathy with the saga of Ricky’s unbearably brief and intense relationship with the love of his life, Jeffrey, who succumbed to AIDS. This poignant tale spans several chapters, becoming the beating heart of Seeing Through, which stirs vivid and important memories of a painfully tragic time. The author has a nice way of bookending the writing with characters near (if not always dear) to him, but as the episodic, non-chronological sequencing seesaws back and forth, the point of balance in the center of the piece is always: Jeffrey.
As for the part of the title that is A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera, I can say there is truth in that advertising. There is a whole lot of all three, and the candor with which those experiences are related is by turns titillating, startling, casual, puzzling, complex, compassionate, and voyeuristic. These prolific and explicit exploits are not so much like an accident from which you can’t look away, but more like an accident in which you might not mind getting buzzed and rear-ended.
All this Puck-ish debauchery and emotional maneuvering is really the exceedingly detailed background that informs and motivates Ricky’s creative output. It is the potent collective “cause” for the boffo “effect.” All of the major musical works are documented therein, but the book never descends to an “and-then-I- wrote” litany, but more cleverly frames the stage pieces within the challenges they faced, and the assets (or lack thereof) that were associated with each compositional process.
The obstacles that thwarted resourcing and properly producing the major opera, The Garden of the Finzi Continis were especially maddening and saddening in their scope. Other, happier conditions enhanced such triumphs as Intimate Apparel, The Grapes of Wrath, and 27, to name a few. In these pages, my heart rejoiced not only for the tremendous quality and success of the stage works, but also that with the rapturous reception of these pieces, Ricky seems to momentarily leave behind a catalogue of self-doubt and allows himself to revel in his great gifts.
I had the pleasure to review the revival of Grapes, and the World Premiere of 27 in the wonderful stagings at Opera Theatre of Saint Louis. I loved them and said so. It was humbling indeed, then, for Ricky to have written in this book, that his favorite review of 27 was mine, with its headline: “A Hit Is a Hit Is a Hit.”
When I produced the West Coast Premiere of 27 in my capacity as General Director of Opera Las Vegas, the company brought Ricky and librettist Royce Vavrek to town for it. It was “an event.” The mayor proclaimed 27 April as “Twenty-seven Day” in the city. The two of them spoke to music students at the University, culminating with Ricky accompanying himself on the piano, singing his sublime song, “A Horse With Wings” for the enrapt listeners. Opening night, as the great final quintet (“Two Women”) engulfed the small theatre with a luminous effect, with Rick and Royce beaming in the front row, I had tears of joy rushing down my cheeks, an indelible memory.
I know that this author and composer will keep on making many many more memorable moments as his journey continues. Ricky Ian Gordon is a Mensch. His Seeing Through: A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera has many new chapters left to be written. But as of now, it is already a highly satisfying, complicated, intriguing, vexing, informative voyage, that caroms around the world of classical music and theatre VIP relationships, bumping heads, bruising egos, and bonding in creative fruition.
When I was a kid, there was a carnival ride that was popular at county fairs: The Wild Mouse. The two-person roller coaster cab was set far forward on the wheels so on the many sharp turns you seemed to teeter over the edge of the tracks. You would sort of casually coast along, and then suddenly get whipped around breathlessly in a new direction, only to have the bottom drop out at a sudden unexpected dip, then steadily climb back to the top, just to come careening back down again, trying to keep your wits in your head and your heart in your chest.
And that is how I felt about Seeing Through: It is a wild ride. Settle in and buckle up!
James SohreSeeing Through: A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera
One of contemporary opera’s most brilliant and prolific composers, the inestimable Ricky Ian Gordon, has not only laid bare his soul, but also richly chronicled the peaks and valleys of the routes to his creative output in Seeing Through: A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera.
This confessional, obsessional, processional of the high roads and low roads that brought Mr. Gordon inexorably to his current estate of mind, hopscotches place, time, and musical projects to piece together a compelling mosaic of his soul, an image that is often profound, sometimes profane, frequently fragile, recurrently laser-focused, and all in all, wondrously laid bare for us to dissect. It seems there is not one sentence of this sizable opus that is not infused with fiery passion and keen determination.
The first two words of the title perhaps mean seeing ‘things’ through, or maybe seeing through ‘artifice,’ both of which the author has emphatically done; or maybe even seeing life through ‘a filter,’ of optimism, melancholy, and at times, unbounded joy.
Ricky Ian Gordon (courtesy of Ricky Ian Gordon)
I have spent a very small amount of memorable time with Ricky, who was congenial and warm, with a hail-fellow-well-met assurance that did not in any way prepare me for the despairing depths, phobias, fears, and faux pas that have colored and peppered his childhood, young adulthood, and maturation. Having been clued in by this revelatory book, he seems to me now as a lovely, composed swan, sleekly and serenely floating on a lake of success, all the while his feet are frantically pedaling beneath the surface, urging him forward, or maybe in purposeful escape from some encroaching misfortune.
Any aspiring or maturing artist should find enormous resonance with his conquests and triumphs, to be sure. They might also recognize themselves in the dynamic of “opportunities missed” as well as “actions regretted.” But please don’t think this is a heavy-handed, rueful slog through bathos, no! The astonishingly frequent rays of light, laugh out loud quips, and humorous admissions of self-confessed personality quirks are always lurking in the narrative to spring up in sassy surprise.
For gay men, in particular, there will be enormous empathy with the saga of Ricky’s unbearably brief and intense relationship with the love of his life, Jeffrey, who succumbed to AIDS. This poignant tale spans several chapters, becoming the beating heart of Seeing Through, which stirs vivid and important memories of a painfully tragic time. The author has a nice way of bookending the writing with characters near (if not always dear) to him, but as the episodic, non-chronological sequencing seesaws back and forth, the point of balance in the center of the piece is always: Jeffrey.
As for the part of the title that is A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera, I can say there is truth in that advertising. There is a whole lot of all three, and the candor with which those experiences are related is by turns titillating, startling, casual, puzzling, complex, compassionate, and voyeuristic. These prolific and explicit exploits are not so much like an accident from which you can’t look away, but more like an accident in which you might not mind getting buzzed and rear-ended.
All this Puck-ish debauchery and emotional maneuvering is really the exceedingly detailed background that informs and motivates Ricky’s creative output. It is the potent collective “cause” for the boffo “effect.” All of the major musical works are documented therein, but the book never descends to an “and-then-I- wrote” litany, but more cleverly frames the stage pieces within the challenges they faced, and the assets (or lack thereof) that were associated with each compositional process.
The obstacles that thwarted resourcing and properly producing the major opera, The Garden of the Finzi Continis were especially maddening and saddening in their scope. Other, happier conditions enhanced such triumphs as Intimate Apparel, The Grapes of Wrath, and 27, to name a few. In these pages, my heart rejoiced not only for the tremendous quality and success of the stage works, but also that with the rapturous reception of these pieces, Ricky seems to momentarily leave behind a catalogue of self-doubt and allows himself to revel in his great gifts.
I had the pleasure to review the revival of Grapes, and the World Premiere of 27 in the wonderful stagings at Opera Theatre of Saint Louis. I loved them and said so. It was humbling indeed, then, for Ricky to have written in this book, that his favorite review of 27 was mine, with its headline: “A Hit Is a Hit Is a Hit.”
When I produced the West Coast Premiere of 27 in my capacity as General Director of Opera Las Vegas, the company brought Ricky and librettist Royce Vavrek to town for it. It was “an event.” The mayor proclaimed 27 April as “Twenty-seven Day” in the city. The two of them spoke to music students at the University, culminating with Ricky accompanying himself on the piano, singing his sublime song, “A Horse With Wings” for the enrapt listeners. Opening night, as the great final quintet (“Two Women”) engulfed the small theatre with a luminous effect, with Rick and Royce beaming in the front row, I had tears of joy rushing down my cheeks, an indelible memory.
I know that this author and composer will keep on making many many more memorable moments as his journey continues. Ricky Ian Gordon is a Mensch. His Seeing Through: A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera has many new chapters left to be written. But as of now, it is already a highly satisfying, complicated, intriguing, vexing, informative voyage, that caroms around the world of classical music and theatre VIP relationships, bumping heads, bruising egos, and bonding in creative fruition.
When I was a kid, there was a carnival ride that was popular at county fairs: The Wild Mouse. The two-person roller coaster cab was set far forward on the wheels so on the many sharp turns you seemed to teeter over the edge of the tracks. You would sort of casually coast along, and then suddenly get whipped around breathlessly in a new direction, only to have the bottom drop out at a sudden unexpected dip, then steadily climb back to the top, just to come careening back down again, trying to keep your wits in your head and your heart in your chest.
And that is how I felt about Seeing Through: It is a wild ride. Settle in and buckle up!
James SohreSeeing Through: A Chronicle of Sex, Drugs, and Opera
December 4, 2024
I'm not actually a fan of the composer, but there are so few memoirs by living opera composers that I felt compelled to read it. Plus with a subtitle about sex, drugs, and opera, how can you not read it? Now that I've finished I will try to listen to more of his work, and maybe I will learn to appreciate it.
I enjoyed the second half of the book more than the first half because the author dealt more with his music than his private life. His years of Freudian psychotherapy poisoned his mind. He certainly has problems—who doesn't?—but psychoanalysis is a pseudo-science. In addition Gordon consults psychics, astrologers, and all sorts of religious nonsense. It's a wonder he's able to write, not only music, but also a coherent memoir.
The passages where he discussed the AIDS crises were heartbreaking. It was an important chronicle of the period, and also, reading this just after the 2024 election, it was a helpful reminder of how awful most of human history has been.
I appreciated Gordon's frankness regarding his jealousy, his fights and feuds, and his often petty reactions in his professional life. I think every artist has similar struggles, but they rarely admit it with the candor of Gordon.
I enjoyed the second half of the book more than the first half because the author dealt more with his music than his private life. His years of Freudian psychotherapy poisoned his mind. He certainly has problems—who doesn't?—but psychoanalysis is a pseudo-science. In addition Gordon consults psychics, astrologers, and all sorts of religious nonsense. It's a wonder he's able to write, not only music, but also a coherent memoir.
The passages where he discussed the AIDS crises were heartbreaking. It was an important chronicle of the period, and also, reading this just after the 2024 election, it was a helpful reminder of how awful most of human history has been.
I appreciated Gordon's frankness regarding his jealousy, his fights and feuds, and his often petty reactions in his professional life. I think every artist has similar struggles, but they rarely admit it with the candor of Gordon.
March 6, 2025
One of the most powerful memoirs I’ve read, Ricky Ian Gordon’s Seeing Through is both a fascinating look into the life of a composer, and a deeply personal account of addiction and sobriety, joy and grief, and the ultimate, redeeming power of love.
Gordon’s insights into his work and creative journey are illuminating and inspiring—but this is about more than a composer’s process. His personal reflections moved me deeply.
For me, the very best memoirs provide insight not only into the author’s life-- but also into the reader’s. They illuminate some unspoken part of ourselves. Gordon’s passages on living through the AIDS crisis, the loss of family and a beloved lover, the long walk through grief toward some kind of acceptance of the unacceptable, and the discovery of new love were moving, insightful, and—yes—frequently very funny, with a bitter sweetness. (The story about Joni Mitchell and the handmade dress will make you laugh—and break your heart.)
The writing itself is breathtaking—elegant, raw, and compelling. Don’t miss his description of observing a grandfather and granddaughter meeting on Central Park West while he was in the midst of a self-esteem crisis. I cannot read it without weeping. A small excerpt:
"This made the love passing between her and her grandfather, the way he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful little girl in the world, almost unbearable, as if I were no longer walking in the sun; I had entered it and I was burning alive."
Nothing has better described to me the transformative power of love, even when we are in the center of our own, wracking pain.
And then this, about his sister, as he saw her when he was a child. Those who have loved ones we could not save will understand:
"She seemed to have a cloud encircling her, trapping her in its vapor. I will never forget her expression. Though I had no vocabulary to express such things, in that moment she looked like the saddest person I had ever seen, as if sadness were a throbbing, impenetrable fortress and she couldn't get out."
Get this book—whether or not you’re familiar with Gordon’s work as a composer (and if not—it will move you to discover it). It’s about life and how we find meaning, purpose--and music--in the darkest times. As he writes:
“Alas, we love what we love when we love it, and living is worth all of it, for those flickers, however long they glow.”
A deeply moving, unforgettable read.
Gordon’s insights into his work and creative journey are illuminating and inspiring—but this is about more than a composer’s process. His personal reflections moved me deeply.
For me, the very best memoirs provide insight not only into the author’s life-- but also into the reader’s. They illuminate some unspoken part of ourselves. Gordon’s passages on living through the AIDS crisis, the loss of family and a beloved lover, the long walk through grief toward some kind of acceptance of the unacceptable, and the discovery of new love were moving, insightful, and—yes—frequently very funny, with a bitter sweetness. (The story about Joni Mitchell and the handmade dress will make you laugh—and break your heart.)
The writing itself is breathtaking—elegant, raw, and compelling. Don’t miss his description of observing a grandfather and granddaughter meeting on Central Park West while he was in the midst of a self-esteem crisis. I cannot read it without weeping. A small excerpt:
"This made the love passing between her and her grandfather, the way he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful little girl in the world, almost unbearable, as if I were no longer walking in the sun; I had entered it and I was burning alive."
Nothing has better described to me the transformative power of love, even when we are in the center of our own, wracking pain.
And then this, about his sister, as he saw her when he was a child. Those who have loved ones we could not save will understand:
"She seemed to have a cloud encircling her, trapping her in its vapor. I will never forget her expression. Though I had no vocabulary to express such things, in that moment she looked like the saddest person I had ever seen, as if sadness were a throbbing, impenetrable fortress and she couldn't get out."
Get this book—whether or not you’re familiar with Gordon’s work as a composer (and if not—it will move you to discover it). It’s about life and how we find meaning, purpose--and music--in the darkest times. As he writes:
“Alas, we love what we love when we love it, and living is worth all of it, for those flickers, however long they glow.”
A deeply moving, unforgettable read.
December 11, 2024
I enjoyed the second half of the book more than the first half. Gordon spends a lot of time sharing explicit sexual thoughts and details in the first 100 pages or so. He has gone through a lot in his life and I appreciate his vulnerability and candor. However, this is definitely an adult read. I really liked the later chapters where he goes into his music and dealings with other composers, and when he talks about putting his operas together. I love Gordon’s music and it was very cool to read about his process.
August 15, 2024
Explicit sex scenes from toddlerhood, including rape, abuse, & incest, dominate the book and overshadow any musical insights. This read like a graphic confessional from therapy. TMI.
August 28, 2024
Wonderful read
March 15, 2025
constantly surprising and relentlessly honest, Gordon's story and the way he told it obsessed me and ultimately inspired me. devoured this book.
December 28, 2025
Long winded but full of whimsy, sorrow and opera tea
August 11, 2024
4.5 stars.
January 9, 2025
First of all, I need to say that Ricky Ian Gordon is one of my favorite people. I’ve had the privilege of working with him on a few occasions (harmonica player in 'The Grapes of Wrath' opera) and he’s so eminently joyous about creating music and having everyone else around him as part of the process. It is because of him that I was able to perform at Carnegie Hall earlier this year and being in his presence during rehearsals in the days leading up was just as enjoyable as playing that vaunted space. Those are my feelings on Ricky the person.
The music itself I don’t need to say much about because it speaks for itself.
As for the book, like his music it is intricate, brilliantly constructed and it exudes that same joyous spirit. Yet, also like his music (and life itself), there’s a lot more to it - the difficult, confusing and tragic circumstances and events of his existence. But that never spoils the joyousness. Nor does the joyousness deny the existence of or cover up of all the rest.
As Ricky writes, musical works such as the many operas he's composed, require more than one viewing in order to understand the composer's intent. And, I think that's probably fair to say about this book. But a first reading proved as enriching as being both around man himself and his music.
The music itself I don’t need to say much about because it speaks for itself.
As for the book, like his music it is intricate, brilliantly constructed and it exudes that same joyous spirit. Yet, also like his music (and life itself), there’s a lot more to it - the difficult, confusing and tragic circumstances and events of his existence. But that never spoils the joyousness. Nor does the joyousness deny the existence of or cover up of all the rest.
As Ricky writes, musical works such as the many operas he's composed, require more than one viewing in order to understand the composer's intent. And, I think that's probably fair to say about this book. But a first reading proved as enriching as being both around man himself and his music.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews