Someone has filmed the Metropolitan Opera and broadcasts it to certain movie theaters. This past weekend, AMC 24 featured Turandot by Puccini, one of my favorite operas (Thanks to Tristan who took me to see it at the Richmond Opera House maybe 8 years ago). If you think Turandot sounds obscure, it's not. You know the music, I'm sure (Nessun Dorma, click on the title to hear, probably, one of the most well-known arias - and keep it in mind as I discuss the tenor for our performance...).
A piece of advice: if you ever go to the opera at the movie theater, don't come in late with the assumption that you'll easily find a decent seat. I was so very wrong in thinking that few people would be interested in coming to see Turandot when other mind-numbing fodder is readily available on a Saturday afternoon. I tripped over about three people before I decided to sit on the stairs and wait for a slow scene or for my eyes to adjust to the dark. I ended up sitting in the second row... where the seats are built with the back at a reasonable slant to help you look up to the screen without snapping your neck off your shoulders.
The broadcast, apparently, is a live feed from the Met. At least, that's what I've been told... and I'm willing to think that's the case since the video kept coming in and out at inopportune moments. Sometimes the sound would cut out and you see these performers with their wide open opera mouths not knowing what glorious (or terrifying) notes they must be hitting. Once or twice the whole video went out for 10-25 seconds. It was about as annoying as it sounds, and you could here tongues clicking and sighs all over the theater.
Of course, the feed never had any problems filtering in during these rotten interviews. This woman would talk to various performers during Intermission and it was so obvious that she was reading her questions on a cue card rather than taking any real interest in the performers. She talked to the conductor, the lead singers, a few musicians, the prop master, etc. I just wanted to throw my popcorn at the screen (and, yes, eating popcorn while watching opera is... well, wrong... in a fun way... I think...).
The camera angles were sometimes distracting. Someone is very in love with his overhead camera... but on a crowded stage only works once or twice. There were also scenes where I would have liked to have seen the whole stage rather than focusing up the nose of an extra performer in the crowd...
The performance itself was fine. It was weird seeing the backstage hustle and set changes... Also, the performers came out after each act to take a bow. These things all broke up the mystique of the theater... you didn't get that feeling that you were there, observing private moments between people, getting caught up in the emotion. You might have wanted that... the actors were reasonably talented... but you get shocked out of the illusion.
The lead tenor was mediocre. He really reminded me of the necessary goofball that seems to lurk on every theatrical performance. There's always this one guy or gal who is just awkward. This tenor's Calaf will not blow you away. He's not terrible, but he's not great... which makes the applause at the well-known aria that much more frustrating. Similar to when you actually go to the opera house, people don't always seem to have any sense for real talent. In the movie theater, people started clapping furiously and I heard oohs and aahs aplenty... Why? Because you could say, "Hey! I know that song,"? Yeah, he made it through, but he also dropped a note or two and sped up the pace at the uncomfortable parts. To his credit, Puccini places this aria in the 3rd Act after you've already been singing your heart out for two hours. Still, I distinctly remember the tenor at the Richmond Opera House years ago performing with more gusto than this goober...
(from http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com)...and you're even more confused because Turandot is often played by... let's be polite and say substantial women. It's one of the most demanding roles that even most very accomplished sopranos will never be able to sing. So, Turandot, this dazzlingly beautiful princess, according to the libretto, is often played by an older, larger singer, than the tiny sopranos who can handle the role of the loving, selfless Liu.
This production's Turandot was no exception. She was, as a matter of fact, a brilliant singer, but she was also the typical diva. It takes some attitude to go out there and sing a part that rattles the seats in the back of the house... not to mention a lead role that you know everyone will somewhat despise. No one likes Turandot. Everyone tells the prince to do something better with his time. Even when he is successful in answering her riddles, earning the right to marry her, people advise him to run away, to leave the kingdom, and get a better life somewhere else. So, to withstand the pressure of these sort of circumstances, one must be tough and probably pretty in love with herself.
(from http://archive.operainfo.org)Still, even with this innovation, I think opera might need to take a few more steps into this new century. I'm not saying we should not retain the classic way of performing opera, but the art could use some new sounds, new looks, new work. I don't mean updating it in the Romeo and Juliet sort of way (I'm gagging just thinking about that movie)... But, just getting more creative within the art itself to keep the art alive (rather than holding it as a past time of divas and snots with the money and time to know nothing about that which they are listening) would be a smart and intriguing move.
I won't substitute going to the actual opera house, but I like the idea of seeing the opera once per month or so with a Kids Pack and a comfy chair...
(The images borrowed for this entry do not come from the peformance I saw in the movie theater.)
2 comments:
Glad you made it to the Met's Live Broadcast of Turandot! I had intended to go, it being one of my favorite operas, but, having gone to bed at 7:30 AM, it just didn't happen.
The Met Live Broadcast is awesome--not only does it make opera affordable and accessible, but it makes THE MET'S opera affordable and accessible, and the Met is, after all, one of the four or five greatest opera companies on the planet. Very cool program, and I am glad to hear people are taking advantage of it!
Yes, Gen, it is strange that any man would go for the ice princess instead of the loving, caring little servant girl, isn't it? I can't imagine what Calaf is thinking (no sarcasm, of course, obviously).
I think the live broadcast is a great idea, and the idea of refreshments also good. I have said for a long time that the performing arts need to move away from the 19th Century formality that refuses to give way, and return to a more 18th Century (and earlier) style of simple, unapologetic enjoyment--in other words, popcorn. Indeed, I went to Kentucky Opera's production of Floyd's Of Mice and Men last week, and we drank champagne in the theater during the show. Now THAT is a step in the right direction!
As to updating opera for the present era, I'd point to the big steps forward that have been taken over the past couple decades. It was not long ago at all that operas never had supertitles, so if you didn't know the language or the story, too bad for you. It also was not long ago that acting was not considered important AT ALL, and that has certainly changed. Obviously, in opera, the music must come first, but now, one can expect--and usually receives--some degree of acting with the music, and staging beyond "stand center stage and sing aria."
OK, back to work. Glad you could see it, glad you enjoyed it, and I am glad you still love the opera. It was fun to introduce you to it all those years ago, Turandot--oops, I mean, Gen. :)
And happy anniversary to you and David!
Cheers,
Tristan
You jerk! I'm no ice princess! Generally angry maybe, but not cold. :P
And I'm not trying to say Opera has made no movements towards the modern age. Offering the words (even when the opera is in English) is terrific. I think I mean a little more creative theatrics. I can't offer a specific example, but, next month's opera might answer my request from the looks of it (Tales of Hoffman).
I'm appreciative to you in general for taking me to my first opera and one or two after that. You're the best, Calaf-- I mean, Tristan.
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