Tosca
Last night a friend and I went to the New York City Opera to see Tosca. I had managed to get a pair of free tickets at work, and we found that our seats were fabulous: eight rows from the stage, in the orchestra, center stage. We could see everythingThough I grew up with some exposure to opera, I know that Contreras is my favorite of the three tenors (on recordings only; this isn't a statement about how well his voice carries when on stage), and I could sing you nearly anything from Carmen when I was six, I had never actually been to an opera before. Let me tell you, the staging made the experience. Hearing the arias in context, placing them, having a fluid and easy awareness of the plot at any given moment (because it was being acted, but also because the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center features supertitles above the stage)-- all of these added enormously to the music.
I found, however, that I still experienced Tosca as primarily a musical event. What I mean is this: the staging, the acting, and the spectacular(!) lighting of the production heightened the music and got me caught up in the sounds. Fundamentally, though, it was the music which grabbed me, and which played with my emotions. When the music was driving, so was I. When it was lyrical and emotional--at times even Rachmoninoff-esque--I too was caught in the rise and ebb of it all. While I paid attention to the stage, neither its simplicity nor the minimal blocking and movement of the characters bothered me; the stage was a prop for the greater understanding and appreciation of the music, and not vice versa.
Contrast this, for example, to the Musical, in which the plot is all-important and the music rarely that impressive. Major musicals--the Phantom of the Opera comes to mind--have spectacular sets, great effects, and often elaborate acting as well. These are primarily plays, supplemented by song. The opera is a different thing--perhaps primarily a symphonic work, supplemented by acting--but perhaps yet a third thing altogether.
That is not to say, of course, that the plot or libretto of an opera is necessarily weak (though it sometimes is, to be sure). Indeed, one of the new pleasures that I discovered last night was quintessentially textual; I was charmed by Tosca's clever references to opera and playacting itself. For example, Tosca, the female lead, is an opera singer--but knowing this fact from a plot summary just cannot give one a sense of the beautiful irony in watching her run offstage in order to "sing onstage at the opera." In another place, Tosca coaches her lover, Cavaradossi, on how to feign his death convincingly: "Tieni a mente... al primo colpo... giù... " ("Keep your wits about you... at the first blow... fall down..." -my translation, possibly imperfect). She repeats instructions, emphasizing at one point that her training as an opera singer has taught her how to fall without hurting herself. She implores her lover to follow her advice to the word. Their plans go terribly awry in the final scene, however, as Cavaradossi is killed and discovered not to be feigning at all, but instead to have been truly killed. The actor playing Cavaradossi, however, has just followed Tosca's instructions to the letter, convincingly pulling off a death scene. The effect is excellent.
One last word: both I and my companion had a great time, and we genuinely recommend the opera to young folks. Not pretentious, opera-loving young folks, but normal people. We bet you'll like it.
posted by Skay @ 6:11 AM
5 Comments:
it was amazing, especially the stage layout and effects.
found your blog through facebook - i particularly like e lucevan le stelle
A very lucid and erudite examination the opera. I know Tosca’s music from recordings; I’ve even met a couple in real life. I have to say, though, opera doesn’t move me. Mostly I think it is because I don’t understand what is being said (or sung in this case).
I would agree that in the musical, story and costuming overcome the musical aspect. Last year, my sister bought the family ticket’s to the Broadway’s The Lion King when it was in Seattle. I enjoyed that thoroughly, and was blown away by the innovativeness and originality of the costuming: the hinged lion-heads, allowing the actors to crouch and posture easily, the near-life sized giraffe formed by the actor on four stilts (two for his legs, the other two strapped to his arms) and an elaborate headdress perched on his shoulders and head, the (by my estimate) six-person elephant costume.... it was truly breath-taking. Add to the mix the traditional African shadow puppetry, and the music did take the passenger seat (to a point) to the orchestration on the stage. Then again, with six nieces and nephews, I was already very familiar with the music. And in no way do I mean to imply the singing was poor, or less than it could have been—the actors/singers did a fantastic job there too.
In my very limited exposure to live theatre, the closest I’ve come to opera is a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, The Mikado, again, a gift from my sister when we both lived in Victoria, B.C. Actually, she told me my gift was any live performance I wanted to see at the local theatre, and I chose The Mikado. I had studied Gilbert and Sullivan in a high school music history class, which is one reason I wanted to see it live. Also, the division of all government functions into the Lord High Executioner and the Lord High Everything Else appeals to my very irreverent sense of humour. As it was sung in English, I could follow the action on stage. And with that thought, I shall be humming “I’ve Got A Little List” for the rest of the day.
Enjoy your day.
The lighting was phenomenal. The end of the first act, where Scarpia is standing in the middle of the crowd in deathly pale white light and the rest of the crowd disappears, is just brilliant. Todd Thomas' Scarpia was fantastic.
In terms of the difference between opera and musical theater, there isn't really a bright-line distinction. Phantom of the Opera is sung through, considered a musical, and performed on Broadway. The Magic Flute and Fledermaus have spoken dialogue and are performed in opera houses. I'm an opera singer and I don't know why, though I do know that I don't like Phantom.
Blackcrag might be interested in the production of The Magic Flute that is being done at the Met this spring, which was directed and designed by the same woman who did The Lion King
It's a good point, [a|m|s], that The Magic Flute and Die Fledermaus have spoken language. And, blackcrag, figuring out where to put the "non-serious" Gilbert and Sullivan is a difficult question--thanks for bringing them up, because they're a hard case all-round. But I stand by my original claim that the big difference between opera and the musical seems to be in what is being privileged and perfected: music in the former case, and plot (or effects? I haven't seen the Lion King) in the latter. I really felt that the opera was fundamentally about the music (and yes, I feel that way about the light Magic Flute, too).
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