Mackris v. O’Reilly
Some Things You Might Want to Know: The Case
On September 29, 2004, Benedict P. Morelli, from the firm of Benedict P. Morelli & Associates, sent a letter to Peter Chernin of News Corp. (Fox News’ parent company) warning of an imminent sexual harassment lawsuit against a prominent Fox News figure by a fellow Fox employee. The letter further warned that if Morelli was not contacted within five days, he would start a lawsuit on his client’s behalf. Both sides clashed on October 13, 2004, with Andrea Mackris going public and filing her suit against O’Reilly (and related entities) for $60 million in damages. O’Reilly countersued on the same day, alleging extortion and asking for unspecified damages. On October 14th, both parties pleaded their cases on television; Mackris on Good Morning America and O’Reilly on Regis & Kelly. For the next two weeks, Plaintiff and Defendant lobbed shots at each other and scrambled for favorable media coverage. O’Reilly and his surrogates tried to portray her as imbalanced and vengeful, whereas Mackris and her lawyer painted O’Reilly as a craven, out-of-control megalomaniac. There was much speculation that additional cases of this nature would come to light, but that never came to pass. Finally, on October 29, 2004, the case settled. Its details were never made public, but during an announcement on his show that same day, O’Reilly emphasized that the Plaintiff, Mackris, had signed a “no-wrongdoing” clause. After telling of the trying times that his family had experienced because of the case, he thanked his audience for their support and promised to never speak of the matter again. Speculation continues as to how much Mackris collected from the settlement. Estimates vary from $2 to 20 million.

Mackris v. O’Reilly The Oratorio
Mackris v. O’Reilly is an oratorio for 28-piece chamber orchestra, 26-voice chorus and three soloists (soprano, tenor and baritone) set to the original court complaint filed against pundit, Bill O’Reilly, on October 13, 2004 and O’Reilly’s on-air settlement announcement given on October 29, 2004. The style of the piece is a traditional neo-baroque that makes the most of the oratorio format. Its 31 parts include seven chorales, two madrigals, three choruses (parts of the chorus matched up with components from the orchestra), four stand-alone recitatives, two instrumental entrances and numerous arias. All of these parts add up to a two-plus hour running time.

Mackris v. O’Reilly The Perfomance
Honestly, except for a little last minute perfidy from one component of the ensemble, the performance went off like a dream, almost on budget, almost according to plan – if you don’t count the weather as a decisive factor. Yes, when a few flakes hit the ground in Seattle, chaos ensues, and this occasion was no exception. But it actually snowed quite a lot, it being January and all, so the prospect for rehearsal complications and a minuscule turnout was a distinct possibility. Luckily, it didn’t come down to that, thanks to an outstanding group of dedicated performers. What could easily have been a full-blown fiasco was given an incredibly good performance on those two bleak January evenings. But no, Meany Hall wasn’t sold out by a long shot, but under the circumstances, I was very pleased that as many people braved the elements, came out to see it and bought t-shirts. For those who couldn’t make it, it’s now available in recorded form. You can also get yourself a t-shirt or two, as well.

Mackris v. O’Reilly The Origins
The genesis of the piece dates back to the end of September, 2004 – before there ever was a case against O’Reilly. At that time, I heard the tail-end of an NPR story about a song cycle for soprano and piano called The Poetry of Donald Rumsfeld by composer and pianist, Bryant Kong. For it, Kong takes selected quotations from Rumsfeld and sets them to music. I thought it was a wonderful and very charming way to treat the art song – traditional yet contemporary – plus, I really liked what I’d heard. That got me to thinking. I had a lot of time to do that since I’d just gotten kicked out of a big band and my small-band gigs were diminishing at an alarming pace.

A few weeks passed and the O’Reilly scandal broke with a great deal of media sensation. Someone sent me the link to the complaint by Andrea Mackris that was posted at thesmokinggun.com. While most were cackling at the salaciousness of the accusations, I saw this lawsuit more as a clash of motives and personalities. You have Plaintiff, Andrea Mackris, leveling these charges against her former boss, effectively killing the career that she’d worked very hard to build. And then there’s Bill O’Reilly, who is at turns a kind and generous mentor, a seething paranoiac and a deplorable sleazeball who allegedly hit on many of his female coworkers with impunity. In this country, when an immovable object is met with an irresistible force, lawsuits occur.

As I re-read the complaint, I noticed that for a legal document, it was quite compact. I’d temped in law firms in the past and had my hands on documents that were thousands of pages long. This was just 22 pages, with the main circumstances of the case occupying only the better part of 14 pages. I also couldn’t help noticing that the blocks of O’Reilly’s alleged monologues seemed to be of manageable length – enough to beg some sort of treatment. More time passed, and I revisited the document often. On Halloween morning, 2004, it finally dawned on me: This text might make a really interesting oratorio. Hey, if Rumsfeld could sing, why not O’Reilly? And all the better if it were to follow in the grand baroque tradition of works like the Messiah and the St. Matthew Passion. There were just two small problems: 1) I hadn’t written classical music in years, and; 2) There was virtually no chance that I would ever finish something of this length. Well, very long story short, I revived my counterpoint and got to work. It took nine months to finish. And it is by far the best thing I’ve ever written. Little did I know that working on it for hour after hour, day after day would be the easy part. However, the travails of getting it performed will be a tale for another time. But the happy fact that it was performed (and performed so well) makes those unfortunate episodes irrelevant.