Opera
is Cool
…or, how I learned
to stop stressing and love the low notes
By Terence
Loose
Overture
|
Y |
eah, you heard me right. I said opera is cool. Because it’s
intriguing; it’s powerful; it’s wild; and, in its best moments, it’s very weird.
Of course, until this past election Tuesday—which also happened to be opening
night for Opera Pacific’s 1998-’99 season—I was like most 30-something
middle-class, white males with a healthy Monday Night Football habit: If you gave me a choice between going to the
opera and whacking myself in the head with a hammer, I’d run for my toolbox.
But those days are over: I’ve heard the fat lady sing, and, you know, I liked
it.
This appreciation, however, did not come without a price; I had to
put in some preparation time. After all, even if Glacomo
Puccini’s Madam Butterfly is one of
the most accessible operas produced, it’s still not Dumb and Dumber. So, I did what Paula Delligatti,
who plays the lead in Opera Pacific’s Butterfly,
advises: “Number one, get hold of the
libretto; then listen to a recording of the opera. This way, the story and the
music are already in mind so you can sit back and enjoy.” I went even further
(as I’m known to do). I went to the
library and loaded up with a stack of books on how to enjoy opera—there is no
shortage of tomes on the subject. I dug into Opera 101 (which has the
nerve to start like this: Si puo?
This is a book for the opera illiterate,
right?) Who’s Afraid of Opera, and
Bravo! A Guide to Opera
for the Perplexed. These were all fine, with a lot of words
dedicated to the reasons it’s the greatest art form created and why if I didn’t
see that I must be more shallow and evil than they imagined. No, these weren’t
for me. The one book with which I could identify, the one that spoke directly
to me, was Opera for Dummies. From its 356 pages, I not only learned enough to
enjoy ten operas, but also gained the confidence to survive intermission,
a.k.a. snob fest. I gained an opera vocabulary—a survivor’s guide to
intermission—that made the experience much more interactive and rich. For
instance, I learned about the various fachs (a German word; it means the type of voice). Dummies had pages on the differences
between coloratura sopranos—who are the tweety-birds
of the opera world—to the lowest and rarest female voice, the contralto, and of
course, the tenors—and the rest. Dummies
also armed me with many interesting tidbits, such as the section entitled “Eunuchs
for Dummies,” in which the authors tell of the castrati of the 17th century. These were boys who had
“two of the three things that made a man a man” lopped off. Their chest and
lungs developed normally, but they lacked sufficient hormones to change their
voices. The result was a voice holding male power and female beauty. Now,
that’s weird.
After being entertained with stories like that, I wondered why I
had never actually heard or seen an opera; why I had assumed that I didn’t
belong within 500 yards of an opera aficionado. So I went, and discovered most
of those nasty images that kept me out of the opera house were just myth. I
disarmed the opera snobbery and survived—even enjoyed—my first opera.
So, if you’ve never been to an opera, here’s what you’re thinking. . .and why you’re wrong. (If you are that rare
opera snob, here’s your chance to write that big letter about how a buffoon
such as myself could never grasp the intricacies of this high art form).
Myth #1
“Only snobs enjoy opera—and I think half of them are just
pretending.”
Contrary to popular belief, most operas are very audience-friendly
and accessible to all socioeconomic groups. Great operas have immortalized
their creators because they have succeeded in relating the most universal of
human emotions through the most universal of mediums: Music and the human voice. And, like most
great art, they thrive on simplicity. Take Madame
Butterfly, for example. The young, innocent Japanese geisha, Butterfly,
kills herself in the name of honor when her American naval officer husband, for
whose return she’s waited years, brings his new American wife back from
The same goes for Opera Pacific’s upcoming production of Richard
Wagner’s The Flying Dutchman. And
there’s a good reason. Opera Pacific’s Chairman of the Board of Directors
Patrick Seaver says that one of Opera Pacific’s goals
is to make opera more accessible to a broader audience. In other words, there
aren’t enough opera snobs to fill 3,000 seats of Segerstrom
Hall, so the rest of us are very welcome. So, though Wagner is “an acquired
taste, The Flying Dutchman is far
more lyrical than most Wagner operas,” says Seaver.
As proof that opera is for anyone, Seaver points to
his 10-year-old son, whom he took to the five-hour-long Wagner opera Siegfried. “He liked it so much that he
asked me to get tickets for the entire
Ring circle series.” Which is demented Wagner in all his glory: 18 hours
long, based on German mythology and sporting no “catchy” tunes.
Myth #2
“Opera is sooo expensive.”
Okay, it is a bit pricey. Good tickets, in the orchestra section
or the first tier, right there in the middle of the tragedy, average over $100.
But you can also get a great seat in one of the other tiers—where by the way,
the colors of many singers’ voices resonate best—for under $60. For that you
get three to four hours of bold costumes, classic drama and comedy, a live
orchestra, voices with decades of training, incredible sets, and exposure to a
foreign language. All for less than a good lawyer charges for 30 minutes on the
phone.
If you’re still doubtful, consider that, as a general rule, if an
opera company sells every seat in the house, that money is paying less than 60%
of that night’s production. The rest has to be made up through donors. In Opera
Pacific’s case, that means at least $3 million out of its $5 million budget
must come from ticket sales, says Seaver. In years
with less support, such as recent ones, even more must come from the box
office.
Myth #3
“I’m not renting a tux just to impress a bunch of elitists.”
I was told opening night was black tie formal, so why are you in black Reeboks and jeans? This was
the question raging through my mind while leaning against the golden handrail
of the main level of Segerstrom Hall. Here was
another little secret the opera elite
don’t want you to know: The opera, for
better or worse, seems to be coming full circle to its 17th century
days of being an Everyman’s affair. In that time, people went to the opera to
see friends, catch a little entertainment and party. In
I asked Delligatti if she saw patrons’
casual wear as a lack of respect. “I think you’re never overdressed for the
opera, but there is no strict policy, either,” she told me. “Even in
The lesson: Be clean, but comfortable, and you’ll fit right in.
Myth #4
“I don’t know opera etiquette; I won’t know when to clap.”
I’ve got news for you. You’re not alone. And as with the dress
code, etiquette is a function of the place and time. Here, in 1990’s
Still, there is a chance that you are just not up to three hours
in a darkened room and comfy chairs. But even sleep is not a big worry. “I’ve
been onstage and caught a few people nodding off in the front rows,” says the
good-natured Delligatti. “But I understand. There are
just times when people have had very long days and they just can’t help it. I
tell myself that the music and my singing are having a soothing effect. That
it’s good.” From my experience, she’s probably right.
Of course, if you still want to act like an opera snob, there is a
way to show up 90% of the people in the audience with just four well-placed
words: bravo, brava, bravi
and brave. Usually only bona fide opera snobs will know—or care about—the
differences. Cry “Bravo!” to applaud a male’s singing, “Brava!” for a woman and
“Bravi!” for a group of two or more singers. And if
you really want to confuse the poor first-time opera-goer
next to you who’s probably a really nice guy who happens to be a writer for a
local magazine and figured this would be a great opportunity to impress his
wife with a tux and his knowledge of high culture, but who had the misfortune
of sitting next to a meanie like you.
. .But, if you’re that kind, go ahead and yell “Brave!” when the group of
singers is comprised of all women. Then, duck.
Myth #5
“Having to read those super titles for three hours would ruin the
opera. I’d miss everything.”
I can’t watch foreign movies. Basically, I feel like I’m working
the whole time reading the dialogue, constantly worried that I’ll miss
something vital. It’s all very stressful. So, naturally, I had the same fear
about Madame Butterfly, which is in Italian with supertitles
projected above the stage. But, I found that because they are sung, opera lines
generally move much slower than movie lines. For example, if this story was
made into an opera, this seenteeeeeeeeeence wooooould be abooooooout thiiiiissss longggggggggg. Loooong.
IIIIII said, looooooggg!
Therefore, it is very easy to read each supertitle
during the first word of a song and get right back to the action. Besides, most
lines in Madame Butterfly are not
complicated; it’s the emotions and music that are sophisticated.
Of course, some opera snobs argue that supertitles
shouldn’t be allowed; that someone should just study harder to understand or
stay home. “Some singers who came up before supertitles
are against them. I don’t agree with that,” says Deligatti.
“Supertitles, it seems, are just another bit of
evidence that opera is getting back to its inclusive-minded roots. Even the
venerable Metropolitan Opera in
Special note: Even today,
German operas, such as Wagner’s Flying
Dutchman, expect a little more from the audience than French or Italian. It
is customary not to applaud after big arias or after the first act. After the
second and third acts, however, feel free to go nuts.
Finally, just remember that most of the people around you don’t
know what the hell’s going on either, so relax, enjoy the music and scenery and
avoid tuxes with Velcro sparkling gold bow ties. þ