My history with Opera is very slim. I went to part of a Beethoven opera that was at the Vienna Opera House during my backpacking through Europe phase. I got the super cheap 4 dollar standing room ticket and watched the first hour from the back of the top balcony. No idea what the hell was going on. It was more cheap to do that than pay for a tour of the building though. I had to leave partway through to catch my overnight train to Venice.
Whenever I talk about such things, wife characterizes me in a snobby voice “well, when I was in Europe, I simply HAD to see the Opera.” I assure you I don’t mean it that way. I didn’t get anything out of it. I went, didn’t get it, and left. Actually, I was hoping the interior would look more like one of these places.
But it didn’t. The pics I find online don’t refresh my
memory much. From my obstructed standing room view I couldn’t see much of
anything of the place.
My other history with opera is taking Italian for two years in college, where two of my classmates were taking it as part of their opera training. They wore scarves a lot.
Beyond that, I absolutely love movies that involve opera like Amadeus and Topsy-Turvy. I actually like Topsy-Turvy more because it speaks to the creative process as a mix of hard work, collaboration and inspiration rather than the God-given genius only bestowed on a select few that shit out art with little effort that Amadeus is (still love the movie). Topsy Turvy is available on Netflix Instant watch BTW, and the trailer doesn't do it enough justice.
Wife had not been to any opera beyond the MSUM straw hat players once, and I don’t think that counts.
So in effect, we were both breaking our Opera cherry together with a full fledged professional production complete with subtitles so we could follow along.
Our experience would be Minnesota Opera Company’s take on Turandot by Puccini. Here’s my retelling of the plot of this in a few paragraphs.
Act 1: We open on a young dude getting beheaded for failing to answer the three riddles of Turandot correctly in his bid to marry her. A prince in the crowd runs into his blind and long-deposed king/father and the father’s servant, Liu. Not much is said about this random coincidence or what caused them to be apart so long. The prince sees Turandot in the distance and falls in love. He decides to ring the gong to take on the three riddles despite pretty much everyone in existence saying not to.
Act 2: Three ministers talk about how they miss their homelands and how many people have died from this crazy ass riddle thing. The prince answers the three riddles correctly, but it turns out Turandot is a crazy bitch who doesn’t want to marry because of something someone did to her ancestor 1000 years ago or something. So despite having killed several dozen people with her riddles, she doesn’t want to play by the rules SHE SET UP. The prince says OK, if you can tell me my name by dawn, I’ll submit to death.
Act 3: Turandot has ordered no one to sleep and that EVERYONE will die if the prince’s name is not discovered. The prince, still in love with this crazy ass bitch who is killing people left and right in order to find someone who knows his name, sings one of the most recognized songs in Opera.
Turandot finds the prince’s father and Liu, and starts
torturing the fuck out of Liu to get the name. Liu sings a killer song, then
slices the shit out of her own throat rather than reveal the name and dies. The
prince sees this and STILL WANTS TO FUCKING MARRY TURANDOT!! The prince sings another
song to Turandot and reveals his name to her. And then, out of pretty much
nowhere, Turandot accepts his love and decides OK, lets do this thing, while
you know, everyone is still walking around in the blood of Liu, because she is
FUCKING NUTS and I’m sure in two years, the prince is going to severely regret
his decision. The end.
So the love story leaves much to be desired, which makes sense after discovering that Puccini died before he was able to finish the thing. Critics agree with this view of the bat-shit craziness of the main character as well, I find out, and feel a bit better that I wasn’t missing something.
Despite the drawbacks of the actual story, the opera was still incredibly moving. The stage used a series of circular elements, steps dripping with the blood of former suitors, grimicaing heads on poles in the air. The costumes were absolutley stunning.
I got misty a few times in the third act, mostly with Liu’s part, and it’s hard to listen to Nessun Dorma and not get a bit misty cause something about it cuts to the fuckin core of human souls even before ever reading a translation.
Wife and I enjoyed pre-ordered champaign and big gingers during the two intermissions, looking out at Rice Park and the Landmark where we got married. It was a magical night at the Ordway, surrounded by people all gussied up, some even wearing opera gloves and tuxes. Me, I was wearing my new beige duds that make me look like a nice retiree in Florida ready for a game of canasta. Wife was stunning as always.
Two blocks away, people were beating eachother up on the ice during the Wild game.
Time on the weekend always gets away from us, and since we barely got to the theater in time for the show, we hadn’t eaten before. It was now 10:30 and we were hungry. What better way to top off a night at the opera than hitting Taco Bell. I improvized a song for wife while driving the half hour back to our neighborhood Taco Bell and waiting in the drive through line already 4 deep.
This is to the tune of Abba’s Take a Chance on Me.
T-t-taco Bell, T-t-taco Bell, T-t-taco Bell, T-t-taco bell.
When the bars are closed,
And you need tacos,
Go where we all go,
T-t-taco Bell.
It’s all in the shell,
And your farts will smell,
But you need to go,
To T-t-taco Bell.
As for the Minnesota Opera, we're now planning on going to two shows next year.
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