Dire warnings of crowded ERs in New York, a fresh plague of COVID is raging in the streets, but a person can’t live in a closet and on Saturday we went to the opera against our better judgment and it was an excellent thing to do. The Met is back in business and a lady walked out on stage to remind us to keep our masks on and people applauded — we feared she’d announce the show was canceled, but no, Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro went on with a heroic cast, Italian, Czech, English, American, some singers who maybe hadn’t been on a stage for a year or more, and all told it was pretty fabulous. Mozart wrote it two years before our Constitution was ratified and people are still laughing at the jokes. The Constitution is a work in progress but Figaro is a masterpiece.
Performing arts companies all over are striving to be politically proper these days, and practice inclusivity and diversity, and here’s a comedy with servants in it and romantic shenanigans and all is resolved in the end with a sweet chorus along the lines of “Let’s forgive each other and all be happy,” especially sweet since in 1786 when Mozart wrote it diseases were raging for which there were no vaccines and people languished in debtors’ prisons and small children worked in factories and people felt lucky to live to be 40. Mozart died at 35 from an infection treated today by antibiotics. And the piece is gorgeous and funny as can be. I sat next to my wife who once played violin on an opera tour of forty consecutive Figaros and she laughed through it all.
The Count is arranging a tryst with Susanna and the Countess sings the gorgeous lament of the betrayed wife, “Dove sono i bei momenti” (Where have those beautiful moments gone of sweetness and pleasure and why, despite his lying tongue, do the happy memories not fade?), a moment of sheer transcendent heartbreaking beauty and then you’re back to the slapstick, the baritone’s lust for the soprano, people hiding behind curtains, the seductive note, the wife plotting revenge.
With COVID going on, the Met is working like crazy to stay in business. A singer tests positive and a sub has to be ready in the wings and new rehearsals scheduled to work him or her into the complexity of the staging, and this happens over and over, and the sub cannot be Peggy Sue from Waterloo, the sub must be a pro and a principal who is up to par, and so singers have been brought in to cover the crucial roles, and a soprano might cover the Countess in Figaro and Musetta in La Bohème, two major roles and she must be prepared — in the event the lead tests positive for COVID — to go onstage tonight in one opera or tomorrow night in the other, two demanding roles in her head and a sheaf of stage directions, and maybe she’s living out of a suitcase in lockdown, and staying away from unmasked strangers, meanwhile the Met is playing to half-empty houses due to fears of the virus, and this is not a small matter. The Metropolitan Opera is the standard-bearer of the art form in America. If it goes under, something fabulous and thrilling is lost in our country. There is a battle going on; it’s a story you could write an opera about.
If you consider opera elitist, then I guess passionate feeling is elitist and we should all be content to be cool and lead a life of Whatever. Pop music is cool, but opera is out to break your heart. I saw William Bolcom’s A View From The Bridge a couple years ago and I’m still a mess. Renée Fleming did the same to me in Der Rosenkavalier.
I am no student of opera, only a tourist, and I’m from the Midwest, the home of emotional withdrawal, where I grew up among serious Bible scholars for whom the result of scholarship was schism and bitterness, and now I go to a church where I am often overwhelmed by the hymns, the prayers for healing, the exchange of peace, a church full of Piskers but sometimes the sanctuary is so joyful and we stand for the benediction and, as Mozart wrote, let us forgive each other and go and be happy, and let us also, for God’s sake, get vaccinated. Do it for the sake of the soprano’s children so she can come out and break your heart.
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UPCOMING EVENTS (FOR TICKETS AND INFORMATION CLICK HERE)
Jan 21 Las Vegas, NV Jan 27 Carrollton, GA Luncheon Jan 28 Carrollton, GA with Robin and Linda Williams Feb 4 High Point, NC with the Hopeful Gospel Quartet Feb 5 Waynesboro, VA with the Hopeful Gospel Quartet Feb 6 Easton, MD Mar 4 Kent, OH Mar 6 Champaign, IL
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From the Archives
The Countess is the broken heart beneath all the foolery; this is what makes "The Marriage of Figaro" the masterpiece it is. That, and its declaration that broken hearts can be mended as well.
I do not understand the all-American aversion to opera. If you think about it, country music sings about the same kind of thing -- broken hearts, betrayal. And some of the country/western ladies wear outfits as bodacious as you'll find in opera.
For years, I listened to opera in the car. I'd pick a straight road, turn the sound up and listen to singers sing loud about secret feelings. At the apartment, if I played "Ode to Joy" at a volume where I could actually hear it, the pounding on the ceiling would commence. I once attempted to listen to the Sextet from "Lucia di Lammermoor" at one of my office jobs, as sublime a piece of music as you'll ever hear -- and you would have thought that I was sticking red hot needles into my coworkers. "Ew! Ew! NOT OPERAAAAAAAAA...." Being raised to be considerate (Translation: doormat) I turned it off. That was the early 1980s and Mister Keillor, I AM STILL MAD. The rage of the liberal who politely listens to sugarpop music on her coworker's radio stations ... I TOLERATE YOUR CRAP, WHY CAN'T YOU TOLERATE DONIZETTI for ten minutes out of your precious lives????"
(deep breath.)
Is it all that bawling, naked emotion that makes people curl up in a knot with their fists pressed against their ears?
I don't know. I'm just grateful for the technology that lets me listen to the music without someone whining in the background.
And I must attend a Met performance before I die or it dies.
Thanks, Mister Keillor, for your words.
Thank you so much…we Opera singers and teachers of the next generation really appreciate this!