The Berkeleyites were out in full force Sunday at John Hinkel Park to see Open Opera’s production of "Le nozze di Figaro". Men, women, children, and senior citizens alike scaled the hillside, braving poison oak exposure and landslides, to secure the best remaining view of the stage (a small plot of asphalt at level with the first row of seating) as the amphitheatre’s great stone seats had filled long before the opera was to begin.
Unfortunately, the amusing antics of the crowd dominated my attention. This was fine, though, since I’ve already seen this Mozart opera multiple times. But oh boy, do I wish I had my camera with me! My mom, our friends, and I claimed our makeshift spot on a side staircase, behind a woman showing off her yoga Zen balance. She stood for the 30 minutes before the show and well into the first act with her leg propped on the banister as if it was a ballet studio barre. Light hairs sprouted from her tan bony shin. My mom, seated, viewed the first act peering through the patient yogi’s legs. Leaves and dirt showered my friend Jess and me from above, as the spectators on the hillside scooted up in order to see over our seatmate’s extended leg. But balancing on one leg while watching opera was not enough for her, so she reached for a sketchbook and ink and later her knitting needles and yarn to prove her superior multi-tasking ability.
People-watching was an unexpected amusement at the opera. We had gone to see a high school friend, Julian Arsenault, play the role of Figaro. We hadn’t heard him sing in three years, and it was a pleasure to watch him claim the stage. His characterization of the Pirate King in "Pirates of Penzance" five years earlier persisted in his portrayal of the Count’s playful and sly servant. His performance was the highlight for me, but Adrien Roberts as the Countess stood out as possessing the strongest voice in the cast and as an elegant presence. However, singing in the open air does nobody’s voice justice. Director Olivia Stapp took advantage of the unique outdoor setting in the staging of a hilarious scene in which Figaro hid behind a live oak among the audience while Susanna, played by Aimee Puentes, lured her lover to the garden (“Deh vieni, non tardar”).
I know "Le nozze di Figaro" better than any other opera. I have seen the full-length production several times, I have sung at least five of its scenes, and I studied the opera extensively in Professor Davies’ class on Opera and Reason. But despite my familiarity with the music and the series of events, I never expect the tears that well up in my eyes when I watch and listen as the Countess immediately forgives the Count for his infidelity during the finale. The Countess’ soaring lyrical line here can only be described as poignant. She claims that she forgives him because she has a bigger heart than her husband, but I ache for her and all women because I want her to be stronger. We have spent a full three hours watching Count Almaviva devise a plan so he can sleep with Susanna before her marriage to Figaro. The Countess finally catches him, and we expect consequences and retribution. But all we get is a lousy (and too quickly accepted) apology. Even Mozart writes off this monumental moment by jumping into an allegro jubilant chorus performed by the entire cast in which all celebrate the union of Susanna and Figaro, and the reunion of the noble pair.
Unfortunately, the amusing antics of the crowd dominated my attention. This was fine, though, since I’ve already seen this Mozart opera multiple times. But oh boy, do I wish I had my camera with me! My mom, our friends, and I claimed our makeshift spot on a side staircase, behind a woman showing off her yoga Zen balance. She stood for the 30 minutes before the show and well into the first act with her leg propped on the banister as if it was a ballet studio barre. Light hairs sprouted from her tan bony shin. My mom, seated, viewed the first act peering through the patient yogi’s legs. Leaves and dirt showered my friend Jess and me from above, as the spectators on the hillside scooted up in order to see over our seatmate’s extended leg. But balancing on one leg while watching opera was not enough for her, so she reached for a sketchbook and ink and later her knitting needles and yarn to prove her superior multi-tasking ability.
People-watching was an unexpected amusement at the opera. We had gone to see a high school friend, Julian Arsenault, play the role of Figaro. We hadn’t heard him sing in three years, and it was a pleasure to watch him claim the stage. His characterization of the Pirate King in "Pirates of Penzance" five years earlier persisted in his portrayal of the Count’s playful and sly servant. His performance was the highlight for me, but Adrien Roberts as the Countess stood out as possessing the strongest voice in the cast and as an elegant presence. However, singing in the open air does nobody’s voice justice. Director Olivia Stapp took advantage of the unique outdoor setting in the staging of a hilarious scene in which Figaro hid behind a live oak among the audience while Susanna, played by Aimee Puentes, lured her lover to the garden (“Deh vieni, non tardar”).
I know "Le nozze di Figaro" better than any other opera. I have seen the full-length production several times, I have sung at least five of its scenes, and I studied the opera extensively in Professor Davies’ class on Opera and Reason. But despite my familiarity with the music and the series of events, I never expect the tears that well up in my eyes when I watch and listen as the Countess immediately forgives the Count for his infidelity during the finale. The Countess’ soaring lyrical line here can only be described as poignant. She claims that she forgives him because she has a bigger heart than her husband, but I ache for her and all women because I want her to be stronger. We have spent a full three hours watching Count Almaviva devise a plan so he can sleep with Susanna before her marriage to Figaro. The Countess finally catches him, and we expect consequences and retribution. But all we get is a lousy (and too quickly accepted) apology. Even Mozart writes off this monumental moment by jumping into an allegro jubilant chorus performed by the entire cast in which all celebrate the union of Susanna and Figaro, and the reunion of the noble pair.
Almost as distressing as the opera’s ending, is that the Open Opera cast members poured their entire beings into putting on the show but it was not fully appreciated by its unruly audience. Myself included, since I allowed myself to be distracted by my surroundings.
No comments:
Post a Comment