Saturday opera

The opera today was Madama Butterfly–a favorite with me as with most of the opera loving world. BRILLIANT score by wonderful Giacomo Puccini, filled to the brim with so many completely beautiful tunes. There is not a dull moment in this opera–which is NOT the case with Wagner, for instance, however magnificent his harmonies–and I was wiping away the tears of joy more than once during this spectacular show. That moment when Butterfly comes up the hill, her voice soaring like a bird over the voices of her companions as they sing rapturously of the sky, the view: almost unbearably lovely.

I have written about Butterfly before (here) and I see I also praised that wonderful entrance scene.
Of course things being how they are, I was out doing the weekend shopping when Un Bel Di Vedremo came on–the one aria that even opera haters are familiar with. I had timed my outing to take place during the intermission, but though I darted into the house on my return, I missed the thrilling opening notes. But I heard the rest of it, her astonishing brave confidence in her miserable jerk of a husband. And though she is completely mistaken, her trust and love is so moving. Tears in my eyes!
The conductor was Xian Zhang, a woman who grew up in China in the 1970’s, moving to the US in 1998. She was interviewed during the show, and talked about her childhood. All western instruments had been destroyed in China during the cultural revolution; her father built her a piano, she said. And she talked pleasantly about Puccini and Madama Butterfly.
This world we live in is so amazing.

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Turandot

Today the Met broadcast was Puccini’s Turandot–the cold hearted Princess and the passionate Unknown Prince! Exotic ancient China as imagined by 19th century Italy, with a big helping of fairy tale. I have written about it before (here and here) but can’t let it go by without saying, once again, how much I love this wonderful show.
A South Korean tenor sang the part of the prince, and the conductor was a Ukrainian woman–opera is a very international art form.

The completely over the top décor was the work of Franco Zeffirelli–the audience burst into applause more than once, just seeing what the opening curtains revealed. Gold! Silks! Jewels! Dancers! It was quite a show.

Opera is such a source of joy for me. And this reminds me–I would like to say a long overdue thanks to the professor who taught Opera 101 at Cornell back in the 70’s. I came into class with some vague idea of plump ladies in horned helmets and left with a working familiarity with some of the well known operas that still fill opera houses today–and an inclination to learn more. I have long since forgotten his name, but his obvious love of the music and his frank enjoyment of the (often ridiculous) plots opened my eyes and led me to so many years of delight.
So–thank you, passionate unknown professor! I honor your dedication to the art.

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Saturday Opera!

Today was the first day of the Met Broadcast season, and it was a splendid new opera, which I had never heard of–Florencia En El Amazonas, a work by Daniel Catán, a Mexican composer. The story is loosely based on Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and the music was lovely, melodic and moving. And apparently the set was fabulous, Stunning colors, with puppets and dancers being fish and lizards and I don’t know what all. Fun, rather!

However, there was a whole lot of huggy kissy business from the various artists in the show, SUPER excited about an Metropolitan Opera presentation in Spanish, by a Hispanic composer. I was sneering quietly at all the overdone compliments and teary eyed business–until I suddenly remembered something from long ago. A brown skinned colleague of mine told me how she wept with joy when Obama was elected–she felt so validated, so worthy. These Hispanic artists were saying the same thing, if not in so many words. So I stopped being such a jerk.

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This town ain’t big enough for both of us

On Saturday the local PBS station presented La Fanciula, AKA The Girl of the Golden West–one of my favorites. California in the early 1900’s! The gold rush! That black hearted sheriff Jack Rance! The bold bandito who falls in love with La Fanciulla! Who runs the bar and gives BIBLE LESSONS to the rough louts who meekly accept it.
How can you not love it? A plot creaking with old timey tropes, set to completely beautiful music.

HOWEVER, for some reason our local station is now playing opera as sung by the Beijing opera company.
I expect money has played a part in this situation. They are ALWAYS wailing about it.
But for whatever reason, Chinese singers are taking the parts. Mostly OK, actually, but The Girl was sung by one of those thunderous Wagnerian sopranos who should be forbidden to take part in Puccini operas. Just, NO.
So I switched it off and found a better version to listen to. Whiskey per tutte!

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Zu dir, Frau Venus, kehr ich wieder

It’s Saturday! Today’s opera is Tannhäuser, Wagner’s famous story about a man torn between physical love and blessed love. Frau Venus loses him to the pure virgin–but not before a good time is had by all in Venusburg.
Eventually Tannhäuser AND his saintly girlfriend…..die.

It is not one of my favorites, and moreover–like all Wagner operas–it is very long. I would not have mentioned it except for a wonderful movie about it: Meeting Venus, in which a large international cast is assembled to create a SPECTACULAR version of the show.

Glen Close plays the Swedish diva, and Niels Arestrup plays the Hungarian conductor.

They have a romantic fling which is entertaining in itself, but there are many delightful moments in the show–tensions between the international crew members cause many diverting incidents, culminating in the last act when the curtain CAN NOT BE RAISED–because the only person allowed by the union to do so is not in the theater.
So Tannhauser’s miraculous redemption is played in FRONT of the curtain.
I see Amazon will rent it to me for $3–I may indulge myself.

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And they sang a new song

Hello OPERA lovers!
AND those others amongst us who have NOT THE SLIGHTEST INTEREST in opera!
And those who have a fleeting interest in the topic.
THERE, I think that’s everyone.
Now that the Met’s Saturday radio season is over, the local station scrabbled about and came up with an opera program from some other worthy source, to keep us going until the Met starts up again in December.
This Saturday it was Nixon in China, a modern opera which has had some success. I was earning my masters degree at the time of the event, and paid little attention to the news. But looking back on it 50 years later, the meeting shines with significance. Though China is now a major threat to the US, there was a golden time of promise and success initiated by that meeting.

The opera is in a minimal style, which is to say, chords repeated, musical progressions repeated, and not ONE tune you can whistle in the entire show. And no matter how numinous and elegiac the chord, by the 5th iteration one’s attention begins to wander. However: the voices! The astonishingly beautiful voices entranced me, and as the show is in English I could even understand some of what they were singing. Especially as they were not shy about repeating a phrase. Nixon was sung by Thomas Hampson, a well known American baritone, with a voice so rich and rare. Nixon’s wife Pat was sung by Renee Fleming whose gorgeous voice makes your heart turn over in your bosom.
So, a fine show, despite the repetitive style and lack of tunes.

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What harbour shelters peace?

Today the Met broadcast one of my favorite operas, Benjamin Britten’s Peter Grimes. How did I come to love it so much? I have listened to it over and over again–a stunning masterpiece, which almost on its own placed British opera on the world stage.

The story: the fisherman Peter Grimes is disliked and feared in his village. His trial for having possibly caused the death of his apprentice begins the opera, and we hear Peter’s spirited defense of himself–a fine scene, which cleverly introduces all the characters. The libretto was written by Montagu Slater, in a conversational style, with rhyming couplets. It is a brilliant piece of writing, which well befits the magnificent music–so many moments that are so beautiful!
There is the scene in the pub, the villagers berating Grimes who is awaiting his new apprentice–and Ellen, the schoolmistress, who loves Peter, offers to go with the carter to bring the boy. Everyone is horrified but Ellen sings over their complaint, in a luminous and moving verse:

Let her among you without fault
Cast the first stone
And let the Pharisees and Sadducees
Give way to none.
But whosoever feels his pride
Humbled so deep
There is no corner he can hide
Even in sleep!
Will have no trouble to find out
How a poor teacher
Widowed and lonely finds delight
In shouldering care.

[Here it is, https://youtu.be/5992BcToIWM?t=1521–stop at 27:20]

Ah! So lovely. She is such a good woman!
There is another splendid scene, when the villagers are determined to confront Peter–and contemptuously dismiss the women : “Back to the gutter, you keep out of this! Only the men, the women stay!” And the four women–Auntie, who runs the pub, her two “nieces”, and Ellen sing a heartbreaking quartet, which brings tears to my eyes every time.

From the gutter, why should we
Trouble at their ribaldries?
And shall we be ashamed because
We comfort men from ugliness?
Do we smile or do we weep
Or wait quietly till they sleep?
. . . .
They are children when they weep
We are mothers when they strive
Schooling our own hearts to keep
The bitter treasure of their love.

[This is from the 1969 production: https://youtu.be/t-uJ2_1tKCk?t=4738, stop at 1:23]

Then, Ellen and Bolstrode are looking for Peter who has gone missing, and Ellen sings, “We have no power to help him now,” but Bolstrode responds, ” We HAVE the power, we HAVE the power!

In the black moment
When your friend suffers
Unearthly torment
We cannot turn our backs.
When horror breaks one heart
All hearts are broken.”

Alas, poor Peter. His reason fails him. “What harbour shelters peace”, he sings. And he answers himself, “Her breast is shelter too, where night is turned to day”.
While Ellen weeps, Bolstrode tells Peter to “Sail out till you lose sight of land. Then SINK the boat! Do you hear, SINK her!”
And at the end of the opera, the villagers sing that there is a “boat sinking out at sea, coast guard reports”–“OH, these rumours!” reply the others.

A work of art which I find deeply moving, every time–every time.

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Saturday errands with musical accompaniment

I made a sortie into that temple of commerce, Montgomery Mall today. Entertainment for the drive was provided by the Met’s performance of Lohengrin of which more anon.
But let me first make my sad complaint–there was not ONE GARMENT that caught my eye. Every dress was either made of horrid synthetic fabric or was covered with baby girl flounces and ruffles. Neither option looks well on a lady of my age and body type.

Neither do I care for muumuus, those shapeless bag dresses for the stout–no matter what worthy fabric they may be made of.

Disappointed, I left that place, petulantly stamping the dust from my feet as I departed.
The traffic had been particularly fierce on the Beltway, so I decided to take the long way home–and was charmed to see that my route was lined with gorgeous cherry trees–great clouds of pink blossoms. And many of the other trees shimmered with a pale green haze–the brave leaves emerging!
This comforted my wounded heart and I listened to Wagner all the way home.
Lohengrin is famous for several things–the wedding march of course, a must for brides and grooms all over the world. And for the famous jest made by the tenor when the swan that was to transport him whisked away before he could get on: “What time’s the next swan?” he plaintively asked the audience, who laughed heartily. And the horrified stagehand whose mistake had caused the contretemps was forgiven.
ANYWAY.
Some lovely singing! Though it doesn’t end happy–It turns out that Lohengrin is a KNIGHT OF THE GRAIL and so is not allowed to tell anyone his name. But he can’t resist his dear bride’s question, and tells her. This means he has to leave and so SHE DIES.
However, silver lining: the bride’s lost brother had been turned into a swan and before he leaves Lohengrin gets him turned back into a human.
So that works out at least.

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Fedora

Today’s opera is one of those not-quite-top-row jobbies: Fedora, by Umberto Giordano. It has a plot that proudly takes its place in the Stupidness Sweepstakes, though not of course attaining #1 status (held by Il Trovatore with the gypsy throwing the wrong baby onto the fire–hers).
Story:
Fedora is a passionate Russian noblewoman whose adored fiancé is murdered! In a fiery aria, she vows VENGEANCE! And upon discovering the identity of the villain (who is of course a passionate tenor) she….falls in love with him.
But first she’s written a letter to the police accusing him of the murder. And so when she and the passionate tenor are living it up in a luxurious villa in Switzerland it turns out that his brother has been arrested and KILLED for the crime; his mother’s heart breaks and she dies. The passionate tenor furiously accuses Fedora. She takes poison. THE END.

Vulture (of New York Magazine) published a snide review of the show: “Fedora is an opera about décor. It stars a Russian palace, a Parisian ballroom, and an Alpine villa in Switzerland, with costumes to match the various forms of splendor.”
Apparently unconcerned by this disagreeable remark, the set designer spoke briefly before the opera began; he has a charming Scottish accent.

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Sono studente e povero

These lying words (“I am a student and poor”) are sung by the wicked duke to the credulous and innocent Gilda in the opera Rigoletto–NOTE: he is NOT a student and he is very wealthy. He is also a TOTAL JERK.

So, the Met season has begun! Last week it was a modern opera, The Hours, very lovely but unfamiliar and my attention wandered.
But today it’s Rigoletto, one of my favorites.

Alas, it is very easy to make fun of–a VERY dopey plot, a nasty clown WITH A HUNCHBACK and full clown regalia in the lead–and then there is the famous soprano-in-a-sack duet.

HOWEVER, it is filled with the most luscious music, really you could just weep, it is so beautiful. The wicked duke has several very wonderful arias, the most famous being La Donna E Mobile (=Women are fickle). ALL tenors who aspire to any kind of fame must at some point play the Duke of Mantua. Very BAD man, but very excellent role.
The most beautiful aria is sung by credulous and innocent Gilda, Rigoletto’s daughter: Caro Nome (=dear name). SO she’s going to be kidnapped by the Duke’s henchman as soon as the applause for the song dies down, SO she ends up dying in the sack–it is a simply lovely song. Enthusiastically sung by sopranos on stages all over the world.
And when I say sack, dear friends, let me tell you that is exactly that, a sack.
Opera is demanding!

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