Anyone remember my old opera thread

[MikeH]

Chrome or Firefox! Stop trying to troll Asher!

[Nostromo]

I should finish the Wagner DVD (I stopped in the middle of Siegfred). A couple of things irritated me about it: the bad acting, for one, and the fact that they sing all the time. Some things are not just worth singing. But that's just me. I noticed over the years that I'm somewhat conservative about singing. With any other instrument, I'm very open. I love hearing Coltrane making his saxophone scream, but if anyone would do the same with his or her voice, I'd hate it.



I also have Dido & Aeneas on CD, but never really listened to it, despite the fact that I love Purcell. I don't see the point of listening to an opera without watching the action: its like listening to a play on the radio.

[Nostromo]

An example of what I'm talking about, taken from a John Adams opera. They're having a normal conversation, but since its an opera, they sing it. Its just silly, IMO.

[Boris Godunov]

Isn't it more silly to have people speaking words as usual, but then sporadically breaking out into song?

Opera is, traditionally, through-composed. There are some great ones that have spoken dialogue (Carmen, The Magic Flute), but usually that's not the case. If you're willing to suspend disbelief enough to accept people singing about something happening to them, I don't really see the difference between the set piece numbers and recitative in that light.

First and foremost, opera is about the music. The lyrics aren't nearly as important to opera as they are in modern popular music, for instance. That's why it's easy to enjoy operas in a language one doesn't speak, as long as there's a translation that gives the gist of what's being said. Before opera houses provided translations, people just had to read up on what the opera was about before going to see it.

Speaking of Wagner, if you're looking for great tunes sung by the vocalists, you can pretty much forget it. All of the musical interest in Wagner is in the orchestra, not the vocal lines. Think of it as a symphony with singers and a plot.

RE: Klinghoffer-- it amazes me, but that opera has generated more controversy than probably any other opera in modern history. Adams made what I suppose is the horrifying error of presenting the terrorists as actual human beings with thoughts and emotions rather than painting them as one-dimensional, purely evil villains, and that apparently makes him a terrorist sympathizer (despite the fact that the opera clearly does not at all sympathize with their actions on the Achille Lauro).

[duke o' york]

Nostromo, is that guy holding a giant dildo and a gun?

Anyway, please begin your selection Boris - I was confused by the stars at the bottom of your introductory post and am hoping to see which operas rate the highest.

G&S is operetta technically, but it's pointless to split hairs so I think we should throw them all into the mix anyway. I absolutely despise film and stage musicals, but G&S can be very smart and funny so I'd happily listen, but too many would put me off. Best in small doses, I feel.

[Nostromo]

Isn't it more silly to have people speaking words as usual, but then sporadically breaking out into song?

Its equally silly. Unless the character steps in the shower...

RE: Klinghoffer-- it amazes me, but that opera has generated more controversy than probably any other opera in modern history. Adams made what I suppose is the horrifying error of presenting the terrorists as actual human beings with thoughts and emotions rather than painting them as one-dimensional, purely evil villains, and that apparently makes him a terrorist sympathizer (despite the fact that the opera clearly does not at all sympathize with their actions on the Achille Lauro).

No kidding. I recently read Richard Taruskin's New York Times article... He's accusing Adams of romanticizing the terrorists.

[Nostromo]

nm

[MRT144]

Eh, I wouldn't really agree. The big three G&S operettas (The Pirates of Penzance,HMS Pinafore, and The Mikado) have some musical worth, and an imaginative modern production can make them very enjoyable evenings. But since G&S is all heavily satirical, and it's satirizing late Victorian England, it often comes across as dated and unfunny. I certainly don't think anyone who hasn't seen one is missing out on some important part of culture. Still, Sullivan could definitely write a catchy tune.

HMS Pinafore is just one long catchy tune.

[Bugs ****ing Bunny]

Treat yourselves.

[Bugs ****ing Bunny]

That's the "Mad Lucia". It's kind of like opera's equivalent of the north face of the Eiger.

[Boris Godunov]

Anyway, please begin your selection Boris - I was confused by the stars at the bottom of your introductory post and am hoping to see which operas rate the highest.

The star rating is not meant for the operas as a whole, but rather to designate the relative noteworthiness of specific parts within an individual opera. For instance, in describing the plot for Giovanni Fabbro's great opera Don Roberto, I'd get to the point where the famous aria "Io son il grande Don Roberto"*** occurs, and those three stars note it's a fantastic number that, while not among the most famous or greatest bits ever, is still pretty well-known.

I don't have any intention of ranking the actual operas against each other--that's impossible for me to do, since they are great in different ways. As I said, I'm even omitting my personal favorite from the top ten, since it's not as much of a crowd-pleaser. My ranking of 1-10 is based on three factors: 1) the opera is overwhelmingly considered one of the greats by opera lovers; 2) the opera is musically accessible to non-opera buffs; and 3) the opera is commonly performed enough that it's reasonable one could see a live performance of it in any moderately-sized metropolitan area, or there are abundant recordings available for viewing/listening.

[Boris Godunov]

Carmen (1875)

An opera in 4 acts by Georges Bizet (1838-1875)

It has been said that if you don’t like Carmen, then you just don’t like opera. It is probably the quintessential opera, subject to more spoofs and cultural references than any other work. The tunes from Carmen are ubiquitous--in the 1990s, musicologists conducted a survey that determined the Toreador Song was the most recognized piece of music around the world. It’s so synonymous with opera that idiot advertising executives choose to use it to advertise their clients’ authentic Italian pasta sauces, despite the fact it’s a French opera that takes place in Spain.

Carmen broke new ground in opera, chiefly because it eschewed the traditional lofty operatic themes involving nobility, mythology, and so on in favor of a gritty slice of life for unromanticized characters. It is considered by many to be the first "verismo" opera, a style that focuses on struggle and tragedy within the every day lives of ordinary human beings.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy of Carmen isn’t within the opera itself, but that of Bizet. Despite some moderate successes with earlier works, he had yet to really break through in the French opera scene. He poured his heart into Carmen, which he rightfully considered to be his masterpiece. The Paris premier, however, was a disaster. The uptight Parisians were scandalized by the “coarse” subject matter and unconventional structure (no ballet!). By the third act, the audience sat in stony silence, not offering any applause whatsoever. Bizet was emotionally devastated by this as well as the scathing response of the critics. He died 3 months later at the age of 36 due to illness, and common sentiment is that the failure of Carmen played a large part in his deteriorating health. Had he lived, he would have seen his masterpiece premier in Vienna to great acclaim and then sweep across Europe and then the world within a matter of years. It has consistently been one of the most popular operas ever since.

Dramatis Personae:

Carmen, a gypsy who works at the cigarillo factory............. Mezzo-Soprano
Don Jose, a soldier in the city guard................................. Tenor
Escamillo, a famous bull fighter........................................ Baritone
Micaela, a young woman from Don Jose’s home town........... Soprano
Zuniga, Captain of the guard........................................... Bass
Fraquita, a friend of Carmen........................................... Soprano
Mercedes, another friend............................................ .. Mezzo-Soprano
Dancairo, a smuggler.......................................... .......... Baritone
Remendado, another smuggler........................................ Tenor
Morales, a Lieutenant of the guard................................... Baritone

Spoken roles: Lillas Pastas, mountain guide
Chorus of children, townspeople, soldiers, factory girls, smugglers

Setting: Seville, Spain, c. 1830.

The Prelude (****)



There’s no beginning of an opera that’s more famous. After the famous, jaunty bit ends, we get a snippet of the ominous “Theme of Fate,” which will recur.

ACT I

We’re in a sunny square in front of the cigarillo factory in Seville. A group of soldiers laze about in the noonday sun, people-watching ("Sur la place, chacun passe"**). Enter pretty young Micaela, who is seeking a corporal named Don Jose. He’s not on watch yet, says Lt. Morales, but you could sit with us to pass the time, you pretty thing, you. Micaela wisely demurs and scampers off. The sound of children singing a spritely tune (*) accompanies the changing of the guard. Don Jose enters with Captain Zuniga, a recent transfer, who inquires about the factory, as he’s suspicious that it will be a source of trouble due to the rowdy factory girls.

The lunch bell sounds and girls begin to pour out of the factory for their break while the young men of the town flood the square to flirt with them. The men wonder where the delicious sexy Carmen is, and the gypsy girl dutifully appears and sings the super-famous Habanera (“L’amour est un oiseau ribelle”****).



Her love is fickle, and one day she might love you, and then the next spurn you—you’ll never know! With its sultry melody and “bum, ba-BUM-ba bum” bass line, it’s probably the most famous female solo in all of opera. Carmen sees that the handsome Don Jose has been ignoring her the whole time, so she tosses him a flower from her bodice (cue Theme of Fate). As the girls head back to work and the crowd disperses, the confused Jose tucks the flower inside his coat.

Micaela returns, and she and Jose have a long, lyrical duet in which they reminisce about their home town ("Parle-moi de ma mere!"**). She produces a letter from Don Jose’s mother that asks him to return home soon and marry Micaela. Being a devoted mama’s boy, he promises to do just that, and Micaela trots off in delight.

Screams erupt from inside the factory and crowd of girls spill into the street, shouting about a fight. Carmen has gotten into a brawl with another girl and slashed her face with a knife. Captain Zuniga returns and tries to question Carmen, but she responds insolently by just singing “Tra la la.” Infuriated, Zuniga orders Don Jose to bind Carmen’s hands and guard here while he fetches a warrant to send her to prison.

Left alone with Don Jose, Carmen sings the seductive Seguidilla (“Pres des remparts de Seville”***).



Just outside of town, by the walls, is a tavern run by Lilas Pastias. Let me go free and we’ll escape there and drink and dance and… you know. At first, Don Jose resists her charms, but by the third verse of her song he’s lost his wits and is utterly intoxicated with her. He agrees to loosen her bonds so they can run off together. Zuniga returns with the warrant, Carmen sings a bit from her Habanera, knocks Jose to the ground and scampers off. Zuniga and his men seize and arrest Don Jose.

ACT II

After an evocative entr’acte (**), the curtain comes up on the interior of Lilas Pastias’ tavern. A group of soldiers, including Zuniga, are in various states of drunkeness in the room. Carmen and her friends Frasquita and Mercedes dance and sing on the tables, accompanying themselves with tambourines ("Les tringles des sistres tintaient"***).



Zuniga, having apparently gotten over the rude behavior of Carmen months earlier and now himself smitten with her, tries to convince the gypsy and her friends to leave with him and his men. Carmen resists his advances, as unbeknownst to him, she’s waiting for someone else.

A boisterous crowd outside hails the arrival of the local celebrity bull fighter, Escamillo. The brash young stud enters to great fanfare, and then regales the crowd with a sensational description of his exploits in the Toreador Song (“Votre toast je peux vous le rendre”****).



Bizet referred to this piece as “trash,” but if so, it’s among the most famous and popular trash ever written. A guaranteed crowd-pleaser. After this number, Escamillo takes special notice of the lovely Carmen and tries to put the moves on her. She again resists, telling him that she can’t be his…for now. Unfazed, Escamillo exits in style, being hailed by the crowd with his signature tune.

Carmen, Frasquita and Mercedes are left alone, but are joined by Dancairo and Remendado, two smugglers. They tell the girls that they’ve got some stolen goods to haul through the mountains and want their company ("Nous avons en tete une affaire"**). Carmen declines, saying she’s in love and needs to wait for her man. The smugglers are incredulous, but tell her she should try and get her lover, whoever he is, to join them on the trip.

The sound of Don Jose’s voice is heard singing in the distance, and Carmen quickly ushers the others out. Jose enters, having just been released from jail and demoted for having let Carmen escape. After securing some wine and food for themselves, Carmen starts to dance (and in modern productions undress) in anticipation of some hot love-making with her man.

Bugles begin to sound in the distance, and Jose says he has to go report for duty. Infuriated, Carmen declares that he doesn’t really lover her. Jose responds by drawing the dried flower from the breast of his coat, and sings the Flower Song (“La fleur que tu m'avais jetee”***).



This is the big solo for the tenor, and it’s certainly a gorgeous one. While in jail, the only comfort Jose had was to gaze at the flower and think about Carmen. She isn’t impressed, however, and says that if he really loved her, he’d accompany her and her friends into the mountains. Jose refuses, saying he would never be a deserter.

They’re interrupted by the return of the boorish Zuniga, who has come back to try his luck with Carmen once more. The captain mockingly dismisses the jealous Don Jose, which inspires the soldier to draw his sword in fury on his commanding officer. Zuniga draws his weapon and is about to teach him a lesson when the smugglers burst in and disarm the men. Zuniga is tied up while Carmen makes fun of him, and then tells Don Jose he has no other choice than to join the smugglers now. The smugglers and chorus sing a happy refrain about their anticipated journey**.

ACT III

Another beautiful prelude***. We’re in the mountains, and the smugglers are making their way up a rocky pass. As they stop for a rest, Carmen and Don Jose argue, and it’s clear their relationship is on the skids. Carmen mocks Don Jose and says he should go home to his mommy, which only inspires his wrath. The smugglers tell him to cool it and put him on guard duty away from the others. Carmen, Frasquita and Mercedes sit to tell fortunes and sing the Card Trio (“Melons! Coupons!”***).



Frasquita and Mercedes’ cards foretell love and riches for them. When Carmen draws hers, however, they only predict death. She accepts her fate in a dark solo, which intertwines with the girls’ more jovial fortune telling. Dancairo and Remendado return from scouting, and the smugglers depart.

Micaela enters, led by a mountain guide who advises her before departing to be very careful. She’s not afraid, she says, and naturally has to sing about it ("Je dis que rien ne m'epouvante"***).



In the opera’s lone big soprano number, she says she only fears meeting the woman who turned her beloved to a life of crime, but she vows to get him back. The most lushly romantic moment in the opera.

A gunshot sends Micaela into hiding. Don Jose enters along with Escamillo, having fired a warning shot at the approaching bullfighter. Upon recognizing him, however, Jose greets the man warmly and invites him to his fire. The mood quickly changes when Escamillo reveals he has come in pursuit of the vixen Carmen, with whom he is now infatuated. He has heard she is in an unhappy love affair with a disgraced soldier and means to leave him soon. Enraged, Don Jose challenges Escamillo to a fight to the death, and the bullfighter realizes Jose is, in fact, the soldier he mentioned. Jose fights aggressively, but Escamillo parries his attacks and even declines a chance to kill him, gallantly saying he kills bulls, not men. But Jose gets the upper hand and is about to kill the toreador when the smugglers and Carmen enter, breaking up the fight. Realizing his presence is causing a problem, Escamillo decides to leave, but not before inviting everyone to his next big bull fight in Seville.

Remendado discovers Micaela. An astonished Don Jose demands to know what she is doing there, and she replies that she has come to convince him to leave with her. Carmen suggests he do just that, but he angrily refuses, telling Carmen in fury that he will NEVER leave her (by now it should be clear that Jose is quite the psychopath). Micaela plays her trump card: Don Jose’s mother is dying. Shocked, Jose despairingly agrees to go with her, but before doing so he vows to Carmen that they will meet again (cue Theme of Fate!).

ACT IV

Yet another fantastic entr’acte, very evocative of Spanish themes*** drops us into the square outside the arena in Seville. All sorts of vendors hawk their wares on the streets to the passers-by. Zuniga enters with Frasquita and Mercedes, who tell the officer that Carmen and Escamillo are now an item (the vendor chorus and Zuniga/Frasquita/Mercedes exchange are often omitted).

The chorus gets their big moment to shine as they cheer the arrival of the procession of the bullfighters ("Les voici! voici la quadrille"****).



The great tune from the opera’s prelude emerges full-force, and we also get a joyous reprise of the Toreador tune. Escamillo enters with Carmen on his arm and proclaims how much she loves him, and she responds by saying she never loved anyone as much. As Escamillo and the crowd enter the ring, Frasquita and Mercedes warn Carmen: they’ve seen Don Jose milling in the crowd. She sends them off, saying she will confront him alone.

Don Jose appears for a final confrontation with Carmen (“C’est toi! C’est moi.”).



Carmen tells him she was warned he would be there and that he might even try to kill her, but she isn’t afraid. There’s no reason for her to fear him, he says, as he has only come to beg her: take him back, let them start over**. Carmen refuses, saying it’s just not possible. A slow, pulsing bass line precedes the dreaded question from Don Jose***: So…you don’t love me anymore? No, says Carmen matter-of-factly, I don’t love you anymore. The strings quicken their pace as Don Jose becomes desperate: but I still love you! I’ll do whatever you want, anything…just don’t leave me all alone! Nope, never, says Carmen: I was born free, and I’ll die free.

Offstage, the crowd erupts in cheers to the tune of the March of the Toreadors, and the real tension of the finale begins****. Carmen moves to enter the arena, but Don Jose blocks her path: Where are you going? To him? What, do you love him?! Carmen tears away from Jose in fury: Yes, I love him! I’ll repeat until the day I die that I love him! The crowd cheers again, and now Jose and Carmen began to struggle. The Theme of Fate blares out from the orchestra. Don Jose: My life is totally f*cked up because of you, so you’re coming with me! Carmen refuses, challenging him to either have the balls to kill her or let her go.

Huzzah from the crowd! Don Jose says: for the last time, witch, come with me! Carmen: No way! Oh, and this ring you once gave me…take it! She takes it off her finger and throws it in his face. Don Jose, enraged: Damn you! He draws his knife. Carmen tries to make a break for the arena entrance as the crowd offstage reprises the Toreador Song, the orchestra playing a sinister countermelody beneath. Jose catches Carmen and plunges the knife into her.

The crowd exits the bullring to find Don Jose huddled over Carmen’s crumpled body. As the Theme of Fate again booms, he says in anguish: “Arrest me—I killed her. Carmen, oh Carmen, I love you!” The curtain falls.

Recommended Recording:
DECCA – Sir Georg Solti conducting the London Philharmonic. Featuring Tatiana Troyanos, Placido Domingo, Jose van Dam, Kiri te Kanawa.

Next up: Puccini's “shabby little shocker...”

[Zevico]

My father once called me culturally illiterate for not being intimately familiar with (or indeed, ever having watched) Gilbert and Sullivan. Do you feel that goofy British comic opera is a priceless part of Western cultural heritage?

For he is an Ameri-can! (bad joke)

[Al B. Sure!]

Boris:



It's amazing how famous some of that music is and how it has found its way into our shared cultural consciousness. The great music transcends the medium.

[Al B. Sure!]

Any thoughts on Carmen the Hip Hopera?