Friday's Opera
Friday's Opera was the last of the season.
2004/2005 is put to bed...
I'll miss the intensity, the melody, and the passion!!
The human voice has become my favorite instrument.
Particularly, the Operatic voice.
Controlled yelling actually.
"Screaming" out the emotions
of characters
at once
tragic
and heroic.
All sensation.
Anger, jealousy,
love, lust,
passion, longing,
hatred, loathing,
innocence, wisdom,
arogance, comedy,
joy,
sadness...
Unlike other media for me,
I get wrapped up in it.
Wanting to cry out loud to the young woman,
senselessly throwing her life away on the wrong man,
"DON'T DO IT!"
Or wanting to clap for joy in the middle of an aria because the actor's voice is
beyond measure
(pun intended).
I don't of course.
People would shush me, or stare.
Or...they might even join me, and the beauty would be drown out in a sea of thankfulness.
I have yet to attend an Opera where there was an encore. And I would be sad to miss it..
To smother beauty under a blanket of joy.
And so, I "sit on my hands" and let the emotions wash through me.
Friday was "Madame Butterfly" by Giacomo Puccini.
www.DallasOpera.org
A more popular Opera, the crowd was large and youthful.
A wonderful crowd. Enthusiastically "booing" the villian, US Naval Lt. B.F. Pinkerton, played by Tenor John Matz, as he took his curtain call.
It is a credit to the writer when a character is booed for being written and performed so well.
And then there is Ms. Butterfly. (Soprano, Ms. Veronica Villarroel,) (When she openned her mouth, I had to sit on my hands!)
For those who don't know the story, a synopsis...
Post war Japan where a house can be rented for 999 years and comes with an optional wife and servants, also 'rented' for 999 years. Both with an immediate termination clause...
Our villian, Lt. Pinkerton marries our heroin, Butterfly, a 15 year old girl. (He is not intentionally evil, just self absorbed and youthful. The 'Bad American'.)
She gives up everything for 'love'. Her religion, her family, her honor.
And she sticks to her guns when Pinkerton leaves but promises to, 'return when the roses are in bloom, and the Robin is building his nest'.
It is obvious to everyone, that she was just a call of port fling.
Oblivious to poor Butterfly.
But then she, out of everyone, has the most invested in the outcome.
I see myself in her.
The denial of the reality knocking on our door telling us, "Hey YOU, wake up!!" Of her sadness, her loss of innocence, and her longing to be taken care of, to be made whole by that which will not comply.
A misery of our own making...
I see us all in her.
We all, each day, create our own little worlds in which we play the lead. Sometimes the hero, sometimes the villian, and sometimes the tragic victim of ourselves.
And that,
for me
is the beauty
of
the Opera...
2004/2005 is put to bed...
I'll miss the intensity, the melody, and the passion!!
The human voice has become my favorite instrument.
Particularly, the Operatic voice.
Controlled yelling actually.
"Screaming" out the emotions
of characters
at once
tragic
and heroic.
All sensation.
Anger, jealousy,
love, lust,
passion, longing,
hatred, loathing,
innocence, wisdom,
arogance, comedy,
joy,
sadness...
Unlike other media for me,
I get wrapped up in it.
Wanting to cry out loud to the young woman,
senselessly throwing her life away on the wrong man,
"DON'T DO IT!"
Or wanting to clap for joy in the middle of an aria because the actor's voice is
beyond measure
(pun intended).
I don't of course.
People would shush me, or stare.
Or...they might even join me, and the beauty would be drown out in a sea of thankfulness.
I have yet to attend an Opera where there was an encore. And I would be sad to miss it..
To smother beauty under a blanket of joy.
And so, I "sit on my hands" and let the emotions wash through me.
Friday was "Madame Butterfly" by Giacomo Puccini.
www.DallasOpera.org
A more popular Opera, the crowd was large and youthful.
A wonderful crowd. Enthusiastically "booing" the villian, US Naval Lt. B.F. Pinkerton, played by Tenor John Matz, as he took his curtain call.
It is a credit to the writer when a character is booed for being written and performed so well.
And then there is Ms. Butterfly. (Soprano, Ms. Veronica Villarroel,) (When she openned her mouth, I had to sit on my hands!)
For those who don't know the story, a synopsis...
Post war Japan where a house can be rented for 999 years and comes with an optional wife and servants, also 'rented' for 999 years. Both with an immediate termination clause...
Our villian, Lt. Pinkerton marries our heroin, Butterfly, a 15 year old girl. (He is not intentionally evil, just self absorbed and youthful. The 'Bad American'.)
She gives up everything for 'love'. Her religion, her family, her honor.
And she sticks to her guns when Pinkerton leaves but promises to, 'return when the roses are in bloom, and the Robin is building his nest'.
It is obvious to everyone, that she was just a call of port fling.
Oblivious to poor Butterfly.
But then she, out of everyone, has the most invested in the outcome.
I see myself in her.
The denial of the reality knocking on our door telling us, "Hey YOU, wake up!!" Of her sadness, her loss of innocence, and her longing to be taken care of, to be made whole by that which will not comply.
A misery of our own making...
I see us all in her.
We all, each day, create our own little worlds in which we play the lead. Sometimes the hero, sometimes the villian, and sometimes the tragic victim of ourselves.
And that,
for me
is the beauty
of
the Opera...
posted by karlthebunny at 9:04 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home