A night at the opera house

Last Friday night I had one of my top three most “Italian” experiences. Along with making wine in my backyard and eating gnocchi at an agriturismo, I think my little trip to the opera last week definitely qualifies. Well, sort of. Despite opera having an Italian connotation to it and Carmen being arguably being one of the most famous operas – now that I think about it, there was nothing strictly “Italian” about this experience. For those of you not aware, Carmen is an opéra comique written in 1875 by Georges Bizet, a Frenchman. The story typically takes place in an early 19^th century Seville, and portrays many traditional Spanish elements, such as bullfighting and Gypsies. The representation I saw actually took a different spin of that, but I will get to that in a bit. So here I was, an American born in Mexico living in Italy watching an opera taking place in Spain and being performed in French by a cast headlined by an actress of Arab origin, understanding just about everything. Towards the end, this paradox of cultures ended up merging into one - Italian.

I had the great fortune of sitting in the second row. I was no more than twenty feet from the trumpeter (who, by the way, has the most important part in the one of the main songs in Carmen – “Les Toreadors”) and I was close enough to the stage to see the vibrations of the actor’s lungs while they sang. Also, in the first row, sitting right in front of me, was a very interesting person. This portly, jovial man from Modena (which is known for its opera connoisseurs) had been to over 200 productions of Carmen, including ones in Paris and New York City. He had the score memorized and was friends with the orchestra’s conductor. He actually told us that he used to be friends with the late Luciano Pavarotti, one of Italy’s most famous tenors, also from Modena.

He said that this production was actually not bad considering that it is a minor theater. But he did say that in one aspect this Carmen was truly lacking – and that was staging. Here, instead of the traditional Seville town square of 1830, they did the craggy Spanish wasteland during Franco times. The “army” was actually a rebel group, and the “bullfight” was portrayed as a circus act. I’ll let you have a look for yourselves – here is part of the fourth and final act. You will probably recognize some of the music. And keep your eyes peeled for minute 3:17 when our kind friend from Modena makes an appearance in the bottom-right corner. Forgive me for the head that obstructs some of the stage. Only try watching this on a fast computer - if not I am sorry.

I'd say they made a good impression on my first opera production.