i do think a don giovanni production bracket specifically would still be a fun idea. cause then everyone involved is at least starting from the same place of Liking The Opera In Question
11 notes
·
View notes
On Ghosts in the Aix 2017 DG
On the topic of someone being a ghost:
1) Don Giovanni and the Commendatore
The "do you know which of us died that night?" in the post is directly a line from the libretto. "Chi è morto, voi, o il vecchio?", Leporello asks Don Giovanni after the murder. And sure, that's a joke. An early opportunity to show Leporello is easily upset and Don G is cruel to him about it.
But Leporello has a point: Don Giovanni is risking his life very lightly, he could have died in that duel. And while he survived, he has already signed his death sentence: The Commendatore's ghost will get him. But even if it didn't, his living enemies would kill Don Giovanni just as well.
Aix 2017 has some interesting ideas there. It has Leporello directly involved in the murder, just as he generally participates a lot in Don G's crimes in this production. So he has good reasons to be haunted by the ghost.
And then, this Commendatore and this Don Giovanni are very much the same type of guy. A lot of productions do that, because it makes a nice circle: Don G kills the older version of himself, because he doesn't want to think about the future, and yet the future inevitably comes around again to get him. I like it.
So who's haunting who? The Commendatore Don Giovanni? He has good reason. The Commendatore Leporello? He certainly seems more scared of him than Don G is. Don Giovanni Leporello? It could be argued.
Then there's the recurring motif of the bedsheet, symbolic of Don G's bedroom adventures but also of ghosts. And it's notable that Don G himself is barefoot for a large portion of the prod, another ghostly trait.
2) Donna Anna
Then there's Donna Anna, who gets hurt by Don Giovanni in the very first scene and has a strong ghost theme for the rest of the story. She barely interacts with Don G, but she's as haunted as can be. And in the Aix 2017 production, she also has the literal ghost of her dad following her around and getting involved in her scenes.
Her fiancé Don Ottavio also has a strong connection with the ghost. One of his first lines is "hai sposo e padre in me" - he's taking the place of her father. And in this prod, the ghost has some feelings about that. Not purely negative feelings; he's supportive, but he is still a ghost.
So who is haunted here? Is there actually a ghost? Is Anna the ghost for being so sad and wan and fey and such? Is Ottavio the ghost for trying to replace her dad? Or is it their whole relationship haunted by Don Giovanni?
3) Ghosts in general
Don Giovanni in this prod also has a couple of demons as servants. Now a demon isn't exactly a ghost, but we'll count them. And even the living members of the cast have a strong theme of hanging out in the background of scenes, in pale lighting, pointing at things, poignantly. Who is a ghost? Everyone.
In conclusion, ghosts all around.
12 notes
·
View notes
what/who is your fav don giovanni. mine is muti with shimell. but no one beats siepi in acting. kwicien maybe
ohhhhhhh bless you for asking me this <3333 under the cut so as not to spam
i gotta say, I have a soft spot for Mariusz Kwiecień (he was my very first Don Giovanni, actually - that Met 2011 production was the very thing that got me into opera in the first place!), he's definitely THE best 21st century Don Giovanni to me. Acting-wise he's absolutely breathtaking and even if he cannot compare vocally with the old giants like Siepi I'd say he was pretty decent (i'm so weak for him singing that one ✨andiam✨ in La ci darem la mano in falsetto - he always does it and my legs always turn to jelly in that moment). Saw him perform it live only once and that was the moment i truly understood what the word katharsis meant. fucking CHILLS.
I really, really love Samuel Ramey (especially when paired up with young Furlanetto!). That hair, the little earring, that insane stage presence and energy. Also I don't think I've ever heard another rendition of Fin ch'han dal vino that would be as precise as his. It's a devilishly difficult aria, especially when done in the proper tempo, there is quite literally no space to breathe, it's insane - god knows I'm not an easy listener and bitching about opera singers is my personal hobby; but in the case of this one aria I am very forgiving and I usually just expect the singer to fuck it up with no hard feelings from me - but Ramey doesn't miss a single note!
And of course, of course - Cesare Siepi. I think he's the most legendary Don Giovanni and no wonder really. He's amazing, simple as that.
There are many good Giovannis out there, but those free are my personal favourites - though bonus points for... Bryn Terfel. I'm not a huge fan of his singing but that dude can act. Not to be a mean bitch lol but he obviously wouldn't be anyone's first choice (definitely not mine) for a character like Don Giovanni appearance-wise. AND YET - he somehow makes it work... chapeau bas (talking about that Met DG under Levine - say what you want about Levine, I hate that bitch as much as the next person, but he's one of my favourite conductors for both Mozart and Verdi... yikes).
if we're talking specific recordings... I don't have a perfect one, I'll always find something that I'd change, whether it be tempo or a singer. But yeah, I'm also really fond of that Muti recording! The tempi are insane sometimes, some are even faster than what I'd set myself and that's honestly impressive, brave and so so sexy of Muti fr. I think if I had to choose just one recording, that would be it. The cast is also good, especially the ladies. Vaness as Elvira (she's absolutely stunning, also as Anna with the amazing Jerry Hadley in that one Met Recording - also with Ramey and Furlanetto - she's THE soprano for all Mozart roles for me, her Fiordiligi and Vitellia are also legendary), Studer as Anna and I really like the Zerlina, I'm so tired of squeaky meowing Zerlinas like Battle and the whole gang...
Another two I like, though perhaps more for the singers than the conducting itself, are the one with Ramey as Giovanni, Furlanetto as Leporello, Agnes Baltsa as Elvira and Gösta Winbergh as Ottavio under Karajan and one with Sherrill Milnes as Giovanni, Walter Berry as Leporello and Żylis-Gara as Elvira under Böhm. I generally tend to concentrate on the singers more and only really notice the conducting when it's so awful that I just can't look past it lol
wow, that was long, weird, who would have thought that you'd get a long answer from me to a Don Giovanni related question huh
15 notes
·
View notes
don giovanni poster review
welcome to don giovanni poster review.
salzburg festival 1954 (the one we’ve all seen with siepi)
my favorite thing abt this is how inaccurate this is to the opera. it looks like it’s supposed to be the scene where he’s trying to seduce elvira’s maid from the window but 1) he doesn’t appear to be wearing leporello’s coat, and 2) The maid is there when she never actually shows up at all. concerned about the maid’s back posture also can we get an exam on that. next funniest thing is how “the greatest opera ever written” is used as praise for the video of this one instead of talking abt the actual production. 6.5/10 why does don giovanni look like a quarter of the kids i went to middle school with
2. met opera, 1970s? i think?
i love metdunking as much as the next guy but back in the 60s-80s they had some sick ass poster game. love how no effort is made to convey what the opera is actually about, they went up to a guy and said “draw all the statues and women you want” and let him at it. like… it’s don giovanni. you know what you’re seeing we know what you’re seeing. this is the one with the statue stupid. 8/10
3. rimrock opera company 2003
so much to unpack here. the stock clipart women sticking out like a sore thumb. the color scheme. the soul patch. anna elvira and zerlina(?) wearing leotards(?????). THE MEDALLION. the 90s hair they’ve given the don. the lightning bolt in the background. the flame hand thing. they went with like 12 different concepts at once and managed to pull off about maybe two of them. 3/10
4. don giovanni: the opera: the movie 1979
someone on twitter once said this poster implies leporello is the dog and that’s the only thing i’ve been able to think about with this one ever since 4/10
5. sd opera 2015
interesting to see a poster use blues/yellows for don giovanni when usually the opera is so deeply associated with red/orange colors, it’s a pretty neat idea tbh (although i’d add in like one drop of red. somewhere.) on paper this one should feel great in terms of composition, style etc but there’s something…. off about it. i think it’s something to do with the art style or the whole focus on the don as a seducer (and not. yknow. evil incarnate), i think the seducer angle can be pulled off in a poster but it’s. idk. something bothers me abt this one 6/10
6. staatsoper hamburg… early 80s?
idk what is happening in this one nor do i think it’s a good summation of the opera but i sure as FUCK want it on my wall because it looks SICK. 7.5/10
7. ny city opera 1989
realizing how wild it is so few characters actually show up on don giovanni posters, we only ever really see the don himself, the statue, and/or one of the women. this one feels weirdly disturbing but that doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. the real question here is why do so many posters insist on showing us the don’s nips, i can’t say i really want to see that. 7/10
8. hillman opera…. idk sometime
the idea of the poster being don giovanni’s grave is so fucking sick and fits everything SO well it just needs better execution. 5/10
9. netherlands opera 1997
if you ever wondered “hey, what would the cover of a textbook on don giovanni made in the late 90s-early 00s look like”, well here’s your answer. 3/10
10. i can’t tell whose poster this is
minimalism is a disease. 2/10
27 notes
·
View notes
Character ask: Don Giovanni
Tagged by @ariel-seagull-wings
Favorite thing about them: Despite all the many things to hate about him, you can't deny that the man has charisma. He's seductive, of course, but also exuberant, clever, witty, full of zest for life, resilient and unstoppable until the end, and courageous even in the face of hell. It's no wonder that in the world of the opera he's won over so many women, or that in the real world so many men hero-worship him, despite his appalling actions.
Least favorite thing about them: Just a few minor things. He rapes women, seduces and abandons them, chases after other men's wives and fiancées, bullies and endangers his servant, beats up Masetto, kills the Commendatore... but nothing more than that.
Three things I have in common with them:
*I enjoy good food, drink and parties.
*I crave freedom.
*I don't have much reverence for traditional Christian values. (The actual values Jesus taught, yes, but the church's, no.)
Three things I don’t have in common with them:
*I'm not male.
*I'm nowhere near as... um... amorously experienced as he is.
*I actually respect and empathize with other people.
Favorite line:
His reply when Leporello asks him why he deceives women:
È tutto amore! Chi a una sola è fedele, verso
l'altre è crudele; io che in me sento si esteso
sentimento, vo' bene a tutte quante; le donne
poiché calcolar non sanno, il mio buon natural
chiamano inganno.
"It's all for love! He who is faithful to just one is cruel to the others; I, feeling boundless sentiment within me, love them all; because women don't know how to think, they call my good nature deceit."
(This is completed by Leporello's sarcastic gem of a response:
Non ho veduto mai naturale più vasto, e più benigno!
"I've never seen a more generous, more benevolent nature!")
brOTP: Leporello. Their relationship is a dysfunctional mess, but they'd be incomplete without each other.
OTP: I agree with @ariel-seagull-wings that he loves no one but himself.
Although in Claus Guth's 2008 production that had the Don slowly dying of a gunshot wound and Leporello caring for him throughout, I'll admit I was tempted to ship him with Leporello because of the surprisingly tender moments they shared.
nOTP: Any woman.
Random headcanon: One of his conquests was a Romani woman whom he impregnated, and as a result, he became the great-great-grandfather of Carmen. Both characters live in Seville, after all, and she definitely shares some of his spirit and charisma. (Although she's more honest than he could ever be.)
Unpopular opinion: I don't know if this is opinion is unpopular in general, but it's definitely unpopular with many male stage directors and commentators who have written about the opera. Even with some I respect like the late Sir Peter Hall, who described Don Giovanni as an Enlightenment hero.
He's not a hero. He's not a symbol of the Enlightenment, rebelling against the stodgy, oppressive forces of religion and conventional morality. He's just the opposite of that – he's a member of the ancient regime who uses his power, status and wealth to indulge himself at others' expense. Yes, he proclaims "Long live liberty!" and mingles with nobles and peasants alike, but only so he can exploit and abuse them all equally. And while a part of me does admire his courage as he defies the Stone Guest to the end, just consider what his lack of repentance means! He's not like Carmen asserting her right to love only whom she chooses and not be possessed by any man against her will; he's asserting that he'd rather burn in hell than stop raping and abandoning women! There's no possible way to view him as a good guy.
Song I associate with them:
"La ci darem la mano"
"Fin ch'han dal vino"
"Deh, vieni alla finestra"
Favorite picture of them:
These two paintings by Max Slevogt of Francisco d'Andrade in the role:
Samuel Ramey dressed and posed like the latter painting on the cover of Herbert von Karajan's studio recording:
The legendary Cesare Siepi:
Rodney Gilfry with Liliana Nikiteanu as Zerlina:
lldebrando d'Arcangelo:
Erwin Schrott:
Mariusz Kwiecien:
Dmitri Hvorostovsky (RIP):
17 notes
·
View notes
The first significant wave of Chinese immigrants arrived in the industrial zone around Prato, a city fifteen miles northwest of Florence, in the nineteen-nineties. Nearly all of them came from Wenzhou, a port city south of Shanghai. For the Chinese, the culture shock was more modest than one might have expected. “The Italians were friendly,” one early arrival remembered. “Like the Chinese, they called one another Uncle. They liked family.” In Tuscany, business life revolved around small, interconnected firms, just as it did in Wenzhou, a city so resolutely entrepreneurial that it had resisted Mao’s collectivization campaign. The Prato area was a hub for mills and workshops, some of which made clothes and leather goods for the great fashion houses. If you were willing to be paid off the books, and by the piece, Prato offered plenty of opportunities. Many Wenzhouans found jobs there. “The Italians, being canny, would subcontract out their work to the Chinese,” Don Giovanni Momigli, a priest whose parish, near Prato, included an early influx of Chinese, told me.
“Then they were surprised when the Chinese began to do the work on their own.”By the mid-nineties, Wenzhouans were setting up textile businesses in small garages, where they often also lived. Soon, they began renting empty workshops, paying with cash. The authorities didn’t ask too many questions. Prato’s business model was falling apart under the pressures of globalization. As it became harder for Italians to make a living in manufacturing, some of them welcomed the money that the Chinese workers brought into the local economy. If you could no longer be an artisan, you could still be a landlord.
Throughout the aughts, Chinese continued to show up in Tuscany. A non-stop flight was established between Wenzhou and Rome. Some migrants came with tourist visas and stayed on. Others paid smugglers huge fees, which they then had to work off, a form of indentured servitude that was enforced by the threat of violence. The long hours that the Chinese worked astonished many Italians, who were used to several weeks of paid vacation a year and five months of maternity leave. In 1989, the newspaper Corriere della Sera, using racist language still common among some Italians, published an article about a Chinese worker under the headline “YELLOW STAKHANOVITE ON THE ARNO.”
While Florence was celebrated for its premium leatherwork, Prato was best known for the production of textiles. The Wenzhou workers tacked in a third direction. They imported cheap cloth from China and turned it into what is now called pronto moda, or “fast fashion”: polyester shirts, plasticky pants, insignia jackets. These items sold briskly to low-end retailers and in open-air markets throughout the world.
The Chinese firms gradually expanded their niche, making clothes for middle-tier brands, like Guess and American Eagle Outfitters. And in the past decade they have become manufacturers for Gucci, Prada, and other luxury-fashion houses, which use often inexpensive Chinese-immigrant labor to create accessories and expensive handbags that bear the coveted “Made in Italy” label. Many of them are then sold to prosperous consumers in Shanghai and Beijing. It’s not just Italian brands that have profited from this cross-cultural arrangement: a Chinese leather-goods entrepreneur I recently met with just outside Prato was wearing a forty-thousand-dollar Bulgari watch.
More than ten per cent of Prato’s two hundred thousand legal residents are Chinese. According to Francesco Nannucci, the head of the police’s investigative unit in Prato, the city is also home to some ten thousand Chinese people who are there illegally. Prato is believed to have the second-largest Chinese population of any European city, after Paris, and it has the highest proportion of immigrants in Italy, including a large North African population.
Many locals who worked in the textile and leather industries resented the Chinese immigrants, complaining that they cared only about costs and speed, not about aesthetics, and would have had no idea how to make fine clothes and accessories if not for the local craftsmen who taught them. Simona Innocenti, a leather artisan, told me that her husband was forced out of bag-making by cheaper Chinese competitors. She said of the newcomers, “They copy, they imitate. They don’t do anything original. They’re like monkeys.”
Although it could be argued that the Chinese have revived Prato’s manufacturing industry, there has been a backlash against them. Native residents have accused Chinese immigrants of bringing crime, gang warfare, and garbage to the city. Chinese mill owners, they complain, ignore health laws and evade taxes; they use the schools and the hospitals without contributing money for them. In the early nineties, a group of Italians who worked in areas with a high concentration of immigrants sent an open letter to the Chinese government, sarcastically demanding citizenship: “We are six hundred honest workers who feel as if we were already citizens of your great country.”
The strangest accusation was that the Chinese in Tuscany weren’t dying—or, at least, that they weren’t leaving any bodies behind. In 1991, the regional government began an investigation into why, during the previous twelve months, not a single Chinese death had been officially recorded in Prato or in two nearby towns. In 2005, the government was still mystified—that year, more than a thousand Chinese arrivals were registered, and only three deaths. Locals suspected that Chinese mobsters were disposing of corpses in exchange for passports, which they then sold to new arrivals, a scheme that took advantage of the native population’s apparent inability to tell any one Chinese person from another.
There was a note of jealousy to the Pratans’ complaints, as well as a reluctant respect for people who had beaten them at their own game. Elizabeth Krause, a cultural anthropologist at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, has written about the changes in Prato. She told me, “While I was there, people would say to me, ‘Eravamo noi i cinesi’ ”—“We were the Chinese.”
Even as many Italians maintained a suspicion of Chinese immigrants, they still criticized them for not contributing fully to the wider economy. Innocenti, the leather artisan, claimed that “the Chinese don’t even go to the store here. They have a van that goes from factory to factory, selling Band-Aids, tampons, and chicken. And in the back of the van they have a steamer with rice.” The under-the-table cash economy of Prato’s Chinese factories has facilitated tax evasion. Last year, as the result of an investigation by the Italian finance ministry into five billion dollars’ worth of questionable money transfers, the Bank of China, whose Milan branch had reportedly been used for half of them, paid a settlement of more than twenty million dollars. Many of the transfers, the authorities said, represented undeclared income from Chinese-run businesses, or money generated by the counterfeiting of Italian fashion goods.
In Italy, these sorts of investigations are often more show than substance, and many Chinese residents see themselves as convenient targets. “We didn’t invent this way of doing business,” one mill owner pointed out to me. “If you go south from Rome, you’ll find people who are a lot worse than the Chinese.” He speculated that some Italians disliked the Chinese for working harder than they did, and for succeeding. In the Prato area, some six thousand businesses are registered to Chinese citizens. Francesco Xia, a real-estate agent who heads a social organization for young Chinese-Italians, said, “The Chinese feel like the Jews of the thirties. Prato is a city that had a big economic crisis, and now there’s a nouveau-riche class of Chinese driving fancy cars, spending money in restaurants, and dressing in the latest fashions. It’s a very dangerous situation.”
At a time when Europe is filled with anti-immigrant rhetoric, political extremists have pointed to the demographic shifts in Prato as proof that Italy is under siege. In February, Patrizio La Pietra, a right-wing senator, told a Prato newspaper that the city needed to confront “Chinese economic illegality,” and that the underground economy had “brought the district to its knees, eliminated thousands of jobs, and exposed countless families to hunger.” Such assertions have been effective: in Italy’s recent national elections, Tuscany, which since the end of the Second World War had consistently supported leftist parties, gave twice as many votes to right-wing and populist parties as it did to those on the left. Giovanni Donzelli, a member of the quasi-Fascist Fratelli d’Italia party, who last month was elected a national representative, told me, “The Chinese have their own restaurants and their own banks—even their own police force. You damage the economy twice. Once, because you compete unfairly with the other businesses in the area, and the second time because the money doesn’t go back into the Tuscan economic fabric.” He added that he had once tried to talk with some Chinese parents at his children’s school. “They had been here six or seven years, and they still didn’t speak Italian,” he scoffed. “Because they didn’t need to!”
TL;DR: coronavirus is the ultimate globalism virus, where it’s direct access to and rapid spread throughout Europe is owed to a massive illicit Chinese textile industry in Northern Italy, where Chinese run manufacturing plants that have displaced indigenous ones filled with Chinese workers paid under the table for the “made in italy” label, is currently the hardest hit area of Coronavirus outside of China.
215 notes
·
View notes
Follower Celebration/WIP Excerpt: The Night We Met
60 followers? On my simple country blog? Amazing! Here, enjoy a snippet from the part of the tale where Our Heroes meet and it’s awkward for everyone. (which can alternately be summarized as “Marta, quit being horny on main, you’re scaring the hoes”).
WIP Tag List (As usual, please give me a shout if you’d like to be added) : @carumens, @galsinspace, @writingonesdreams, @booksnotbookies, @ren-c-leyn, @kiesinger, @ella-writes-words, @fields-of-ink, @halleiswriting
(Side note: If you follow my main blog you may have seen a version of this before. Please forgive me for airing a rerun).
At least partially to avoid Ludwig’s unsettlingly earnest gaze, Marta glanced over his shoulder at the small orchestra, whose members seemed thoroughly professional and focused despite not being in the Court Opera. The violinist closest to her was certainly entirely absorbed by the music; Marta’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, absentmindedly admiring his slightly-too-long dark red hair and long, elegant fingers. She didn’t know much about the Odysseum Opera Company, but they certainly seemed to be turning out nice-looking musicians…
Then the violinist lifted his head, just slightly, and glanced in her direction.
Good heavens. Now that was unfair.
If Marta ever met God, she decided, she would have to have a very stern talk with Him about allowing mortal men to have eyes like that. Eyes that particular shade of blue-green, and of that intensity to the point where they seemed to be lit from within, belonged on pagan gods from the old Celtic folktales Marta’s English governess had told her—the sort who did interesting things like turning into foxes and kidnapping mortal girls to be their wives. Eyes like that had absolutely no business belonging to violin players in birthday-party orchestras.
Was he looking at her? He had to be looking at her, or Marta thought she might scream, or do something equally ridiculous to get his attention. She eagerly leaned forward, hoping to catch his eye, her heart pounding in anticipation.
“Marta? Are you all right?”
Marta came back to herself with a start, suddenly aware that Ludwig was looking at her with concern in his pale blue eyes. With a twinge of embarrassment, she realized that while she had been staring at the violinist she had completely stopped moving her feet, leaving Ludwig to shift her about awkwardly.
“Are you all right?” Ludwig asked again. “You’re looking a bit…feverish. Are you feeling ill?”
“No, I’m really…” Marta put a hand to her cheek and realized, with surprise, that her face was quite warm. Probably bright red, too. How funny. “Do you know what, Ludwig, I think I am feeling a bit poorly. I must be tired from all the dancing. Would you excuse me for a moment? I believe I’ll sit down and have a glass of punch.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” Ludwig said with a frown. “Would you like me to come with you?”
“Oh, no, that’s quite all right. The dance is nearly over anyway, and I’m sure Sophie would be delighted to dance the next one with you. Don’t let me keep you.” Before Ludwig could object, Marta ducked out of his grasp and hurried to one of the benches set along the walls, dropping into a seat from which she could watch the handsome violinist to her heart’s content.
----
It was an agonizing twenty minutes before supper was announced and the orchestra was finally permitted to take a break. As groups of guests found partners to escort them to the dining room Marta hopped up from her seat, determined to find her violinist before the musicians disappeared down to the kitchens or wherever the help went during these breaks. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would say to him (a wordless scream of admiration, while representative of her feelings, was likely to be startling), but she could learn his name, at least. And congratulate him on how lovely the music had been. And stare at him some more.
Thank God, it took her less than two minutes to find him. He was in the corner where the orchestra had been set up, engaged in an intense conversation with the Baron von Braumark, and was nodding valiantly as the Baron gestured wildly. Marta paused for a moment, inspecting his clothes with a connoisseur’s eye: his black suit was elegant, if threadbare, and she could not help but notice that his trousers were perhaps an inch too short for his long legs. Strangely enough, the air of shabbiness around him only made him more attractive, in a tragic way.
“Ah, the lady of the hour!” Baron Ulrich boomed, seeing Marta approach them. “Mr. Király, I don’t believe you have made the acquaintance of Countess Marta von Holstadt, the very reason we are gathered here tonight. Countess, my dear, allow me to introduce Andras Király, one of the orchestra’s finest new violinists, fresh out of the Academy.”
Andras turned those glowing turquoise eyes towards Marta, regarding her so intently it made her breath catch in her throat. Of course he was even more beautiful close up, Marta thought, her heart pounding. His cheekbones had to be sharp enough to cut glass, and his eyelashes were the longest Marta had ever seen on a man. Even his nose—which was on the long side, and had a bump in the middle—was utterly charming.
And what a name he had. Andras Király. It sounded thoroughly heroic. He had to be Hungarian, with a name like that.
“Countess,” Andras said politely, dipping into a graceful bow. He had a lovely voice, low and seductive, with a hint of a husky accent; Hungarian, just as she’d thought. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Marta managed just the slightest of curtsies—if she bent any deeper, she thought, her slightly shaking knees were certain to give out. “Likewise, Mr. Király. And you must let me congratulate you…the music tonight has been absolutely lovely.”
Andras looked down at her—quite significantly down, he had to be at least eight inches taller than her—and offered her a small but sincere smile. “That’s very kind of you to say, Countess. I won’t say I entirely agree with you, but then it’s not easy to be satisfied with one’s own performance, as I am sure you’ll know if you have ever played music yourself.”
“Oh, yes, you’re quite right. I spent ten years taking piano lessons and I was always terrified of being asked to play at a party because if I made even the smallest mistake I’d be furious at myself all night. I remember once at Christmas when I was eleven I forgot what came next halfway through Silent Night and I wound up just playing the same line five times in a row…” Realizing she was starting to babble, Marta quickly bit off the end of her sentence. “I beg your pardon. What I mean to say is, you and the rest of the orchestra have been excellent, and we’re awfully grateful you’re here. The orchestra is lucky to have you, I think.”
“On the contrary, I think I am the lucky one. It’s quite an honor to be able to work here in Vienna…” Andras’ jaw tightened as though he was suppressing a yawn, and for the first time Marta noticed the pale violet circles under his eyes, as though it had been a few days since he’d gotten a good night’s sleep. “…Though,” he added, looking away absentmindedly, “my father might disagree with me about that…”
“Would he?” Marta leaned forward eagerly, sensing a hint of intrigue. “Why is that?”
Andras blinked, as if only just remembering she and Baron Ulrich were there. “Nothing important,” he said quickly. “Forgive me for keeping you, Countess, Baron, I expect they’ll need you to lead everyone in to supper. Allow me to wish you a very happy birthday, Countess.” He bowed again, this time kissing the back of her hand—merely brushing his lips against her gloved fingers, but even that was enough to make Marta feel her skin had burst into flame. With this he departed, leaving Marta to admire the lean, graceful lines of his body as he walked away.
“A very pleasant young man, that,” Baron Ulrich remarked. “Far too many of these artistic types, especially the Hungarians, have no sense of how to speak to their betters.”
“Mmm,” said Marta vaguely. “He works for the Odysseum Opera Company, didn’t you say, Baron?”
“Quite so. Not a bad little troupe, even if their theatre is a bit run-down. I believe their next production will be Don Giovanni; your family will have to accompany us to one of the performances.”
“Oh, yes,” Marta agreed ardently. “I can’t think of anything I would like more.”
11 notes
·
View notes
I'd love to hear any stories you might have from your time in Don Giovanni, if you've got any to share. I love watching the opera, but I've never heard what it's like to perform it.
Oh heck yeah!
I was in the chorus for productions with the Cedar Rapids Opera Company 4 years in a row. They would bring in professional opera performers for the lead roles, and then audition for the chorus and bit parts from the community and the local college theater programs. My voice teacher got me into the auditions and they liked me enough to bring me back to sing alto parts (because there are never enough altos)
Don Giovanni was fun because there wasn’t a lot of chorus material, so we didn’t have a lot to memorize. In the first section, we played the rich socialite groupies who hung around ol’ Gio, in the second part we played the ragged poor, and in the last part we were basically zombies dragging him down into hell.
(At one point they wanted to film some promotional material so we made a video called “How many zombies can fit in a smart car?” where we all piled into one of the chorus member’s tiiiny ass car and sang our part from the finale, in full zombie regalia. Fun times.)
We had costumes and wigs provided, but we had to do our own makeup, which was always fun. My favorite memories of the opera are from just dicking around in the changing room with the other chorus members, joking and helping each other change quickly, and occasionally rocking out to Queen music in full period dress.
(I still know how to tie a bow behind my back because of all the experience I’ve had putting on faux corsets, lol.)
The dude who played Don Giovanni was great, amazing charisma and presence. (Pretty much every single Lead that we had in every production was super nice and friendly. I’m still friends with some of them on facebook, and it’s wild to see national news coverage of people who I got to be on stage with.) There was one scene where I was in a group of beggars that he casually tossed a chicken bone to, which was our cue to get offstage, and one night he accidentally chucked it with into the orchestra pit. Poor guy was very embarrassed about it, and we all had a good laugh at his expense.
I thiiink that was the year we worked on a raked stage, which meant that it’s tilted towards the audience, to give the illusion of more space. That was also the year I first had to wear heels on stage, and I was terrified the entire time that I would tumble into the pit and spear myself on a piccolo. Thankfully that never actually happened.
That was also the year that the opera got protesters! A local church group got all up in arms about it being blasphemous, and while I can understand their angle- (we had a scene where Gio is dicking around in a church and mockingly gets up in front of the cross to pretend he’s Jesus) like... the whole POINT of the story is that he’s a bad person and gets what he deserves, right? He literally gets dragged to hell in the finale.
They handed out cards saying “the wages of sin are death” and I joked with the other chorus members that that LITERALLY could have been the tagline for the whole play.
The music is all fucking amazing too. I never really appreciated classical music until I got to sing it. It’s not very accessible to a wider audience but I absolutely recommend giving opera a try to all my listeners. Watching it live is the best experience but with covid that’s obviously not feasible, so if you can find filmed productions that would also be good. The music is definitely more enjoyable with the context of the story and characters.
(I recommend Carmen as a starting point. It was my favorite to perform and probably remains my favorite in terms of music and story.)
I’ll end this long-winded rant with a story from my last production, Turandot. The male lead sings Nessun Dorma, which Pavarotti was famous for performing (and is one of my absolute fucking favorite pieces of music). As the chorus, our job during that part is to support the lead’s voice, then fade out when he delivers his solo.
During one practice with just the chorus, we got to that point, and then every single tenor in the audience just went OFF singing the solo. It was hilarious, but also really heartwarming. You could feel how passionate they all were about the music, and about the performance. It’s a really special environment.
Thank you so much for asking! I have a very genuine love for opera and I love getting to reminisce on those performances~
2 notes
·
View notes
Don Giovanni and Sons Theatrical Productions (lol)
Apparently I had a LOT to say about Don Giovanni, Don Juan, and Casanova. So here be a Master Post of all I rambled about, in one convenient location:
Don Talk: [Part 1][Part 2]
Supporting Cast:
The Bro
The True Love
The Ex-Girlfriend
Beta Couples
Overview of the Don Juan Trio
Overall, while the core of all three productions are the same - the final adventure of a playboy - their stories are completely different. Some characters were simplified or built upon in succeeding adaptations since the inception of Mozart’s Don Giovanni. Themes were explored and new stage technology was played with. But each rendition has a multi-faceted story to tell.
Mozart’s version is still a comedy that sits well with millennial style dark humor. The titular asshole dies and everyone shrugs it off and winks at the audience, hastily beating us over the head with a moral message. Of course, if you really reflect on the cast’s fate and reaction, it can really hit home how one’s actions can have overarching consequences and how damaging abuse can be. Relationships are strained, people are left empty and broken requiring months of therapy, no one’s problems are solved with the death of the abuser. McKinny and Rose indeed added more weight to their role and Don Giovanni as a whole, which is a refreshing twist that invites us to reflect on modern society and men.
Giovanni’s comedic nature does cancel out the drama in the end. The main character is unceremoniously dragged to hell and then it’s dropped like nothing happened. His victims go home, most with a “I’m done with this shit” attitude for the laughs. While quite cute and cathartic, you don’t feel justice is served or reflect on consequence of action. You only feel Giovanni got what he deserved and get a chuckle out of it.
However, for all of Don Giovanni’s commentary on morality and reflection of modern society, Don Juan’s prolonged death scene proved a more poignant finale even if a bit illogical. This is most likely due to the scene making us privy to his inner thoughts and the cast having a graver reaction to his death, rendering the irredeemable Don Juan almost sympathetic to the audience. We get to watch Don Juan go through the phases of death, regret life decisions, begging for a sign only to find nothing. His family, friends, and lovers grieving and distraught not only for the man he could have been but also how his memory would haunt them. However, the sudden change in public opinion came out of nowhere. Don Juan didn’t exactly redeem himself to anyone and only Maria had a positive experience with him before his death to warrant any sort of eulogy. Though the cast is not wrong, a person such as Don Juan is certainly unforgettable.
Casanova the musical is a traditional comedy led by a hero too good to be true, the chivalric ideal all people should strive to be but will not necessarily attain. He is only the ubiquitous albeit playful knight, there to serve the true protagonist of the story. Contrary to what the title says, Casanova is a girl’s coming of age story. Her maturity and virtue saves her world in the end and she is rewarded with the perfect man. It lightheartedly encourages us to enjoy life as a grand adventure and to be loving and earnest to all.
Tangent: In mulling over the shows, I just noticed how the usually otokoyaku-focused Takarazuka managed to produce so many juicy musumeyaku roles in two traditionally male-led narratives. Usually, they build a male character into a lead, usurping a female lead – a la Elisabeth das Musical.
Whew, I think that’s all I have to say about the Don Juan series.
3 notes
·
View notes
being a primarily Musicals guy getting more into Opera as of late, it really makes me kinda disappointed seeing how much One Single Production of a musical (typically its original broadway or occasionally west end run) becomes The definitive version of the show. and analysis of the show then tends to treat production and text as inseparable or even identical
like man. opera ppl...y'all have it so good...so many wildly different productions of the same (popular) operas are available to watch filmed, or at your local opera company. i can google don giovanni and find like 10 completely different productions at the click of a button, and none of them are Inherently more the "right" or "wrong" way of being don giovanni. i can have my own opinions on which ones i think work best (and boy do i), but the fact that so many different versions of the same show exist at all is a sign that you CAN have different interpretations of the same text -- and they're all still the same opera, fundamentally. production ≠ text ≠ the whole show
but with musicals i very much feel like, because of how The Industry works, One Production easily becomes The definitive vision of the show. certainly this has to do with the scarcity of filmed musicals when compared to opera (along with bootleg culture + the broader trouble of accessibility in musicals), as well as the (over)prevalence of replica productions, and i think also the age of most musicals is much younger than most operas so there's less time for new productions to be made let alone become popular. like i don't think it's a coincidence that oklahoma!, arguably the oldest true book musical, is the only musical i can think of where a radically nonreplica production gained such popularity and acclaim that it challenges the previous (Very well established!) interpretation of the text as the Definitive version of the show for many audience members. and because of that, it's one of the only shows where the analysis and discourse of the show makes a clear(ish) distinction between the text and the production itself. the vast majority of musicals do not receive the same treatment
it kinda bums me out knowing that musical ppl don't get the same exposure to new visions of a text outside the dominant broadway/west end blockbuster productions. i know regional theater exists and by gd do i feel like it is underrated in its importance to the development of theater literacy in audiences but unfortunately regional productions only VERY rarely get publicized outside of their regions, and therefore can't meaningfully contribute to conversations about a particular musical the same way a broadway production can.
idk i've Long felt that the way musicals become defined by a single production is a fault both of the industry and of the fandoms, and i've been a snob about that here for years. but getting more into opera lately has made me realize just how prevalent the issue is, bc opera Does Not operate the same way.
218 notes
·
View notes
ALL (supervillain laugh) take your time tho :D
Oh no WHY alright I submit *sighs, shakes my head, and briefly regrets all my life choices*
here we go! (#9 and #19 are pending specific opera submissions)
I wrote an overly long post here in response to this question a while back
Don Carlo!!!
Just started Halka. Not very far in, but I’m liking it so far.
In full, Cavalleria rusticana (yesterday)
Die tote Stadt (specifically the one recording conducted by Erich Leinsdorf)
Sopranos, with baritones in a very close second.
I will keep advocating for a Belle Époque Simon Boccanegra until it actually happens. Also Paris Commune Le prophète.
*see the 2017 Paris Opéra cast, except very reluctantly swap in Furlanetto for Abdrazakov*
pending submission of a specific opera
really tough...the ROH 1985 one was my first, so it may be my favorite for sentimental reasons, although I also LOVE the current ROH/Met coproduction (with the exception of some details), the Salzburg 2013, and that Liège production from not too long ago
well, based on several factors (including roles I’ve played in musicals, choir assignments, and stuff from voice lessons in the past), I’ll say Poppea (Agrippina), Zerlina (Don Giovanni), and Urbain (Les Huguenots)
Yes, my answer is Don Carlo
Depending on the day, either ‘Dio, che nell’alma infondere’, ‘Nuit d’ivresse et d’extase infinie’, or ‘Ô ciel! où courez-vous?’
my HOMEGIRL Princess Éboli
any really good rendition of ‘Depuis le jour’. that aria SLAPS.
I’m cheating and doing a play instead BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE IT anyway we need Ibsen-based operas and I nominate Hedda Gabler with Sonya Yoncheva and Lisette Oropesa as Hedda and Thea there I said it if you want further casting ask me again later
I don’t know if there’s any one character I have the same personality as??? although I was recently told by someone else on here that my personality is a cross between Figaro and Marguerite de Valois so... make of that what you will (and tell me what you think!)
we all know my answer to this (it’s Carlo/Rodrigo)
also pending a specific opera submission
depends on...a lot of factors, but I adore both Jonas Kaufmann and José Carreras (he is the best of the Three Tenors; no, I am not accepting criticism at this time)
going with Carmen for the sake of argument here, definitely Carmen
...I am not a fan of Puccini’s Manon Lescaut
probably Die tote Stadt, which is seriously bizarre but incredibly amazing (possibly because of its inherent bizarreness?)
not sure if this is in reference to characters or singers; I’ll assume this is about characters and say (of course) Carlo/Rodrigo, with Marie/Tonio and Fenton/Nannetta very close behind.
Renato needs love and hugs and just deserves so much better (he just needs to learn to not be a Jealous Baritone Husband). Other than that drama, he has a proven track record of being a good friend.
waaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy too many. for the sake of being concise, five I love: Callas, Popp, Benackova, Oropesa, Rebeka.
Verdi ❤️ no one else has written so many great operas I love so much over such a long period of time
waaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy too many (again). first one that popped into my head just now was Sophie from Werther, so we’re gonna go with her.
Act III finale, La bohème.
how has there not been a good opera version of Twelfth Night? that is operatic comedy gold WAITING to happen
a) I hate these singer questions because I have way too many, and b) among many, many others, Milnes, Gobbi, Zancanaro, Keenlyside, and Tézier.
I see a sweet trouser role, I adopt him. also Annina from La traviata deserves WAY more credit than she gets. love her to death.
since I try to be optimistic or at least neutral when going into a new opera, none
cannot gender swap names in my head at the moment, so Carlo becomes a standard mid-late Verdi soprano role, Elisabetta becomes a baritone (YOU THOUGHT SHE’D BE A TENOR BUT NOOOOO), Rodrigo is the Good Mezzo who gets the Basically Non-Existent Mezzo Death Scene, Éboli is a tenor, Filippo goes full dramatic mezzo, and the Grand Inquisitor becomes a nearly-impossible-to-sing contralto role with a few extremely powerful high notes thrown in because why not. Tebaldo remains a coloratura soprano.
slightly cheating, but Berlioz’s Les Troyens (not directly based on myth, but kinda?)
‘We really gotta hurry-‘ ‘But first, let’s sing about our feelings!’ or ‘death scene with lots of blood and sadness’ or ‘death by singing’ or party gone wrong (I’m a sucker for good opera tropes)
For baritones: Onegin, don’t go to the name day ball. Just don’t. For tenors: either Otello re: trusting Iago over Desdemona or...pretty much Hoffmann’s entire life.
Again, I hate these questions, but here are five anyway: Cossotto, Troyanos, DiDonato, Garanča, and Rachvelishvili.
FILIPPO (I would DIE to be able to play Filippo. also can I just say that bass and bass-baritone roles in (at least originally) French operas are...*chef’s kiss*.)
Éboli’s outfit in Act IV, Scene 1 of the 2017 Paris Don Carlos.
I really, really want to like Aida as much as everyone else seems to, but I still think that while the plot is good and the music is good, it somehow just doesn’t work and is also massively overrated.
so I don’t talk about Lucia di Lammermoor much but it’s awesome and the mad scene is one of my favorite things ever and ALSO THE OPERA SHOULD HAVE ENDED WITH THE MAD SCENE WHAT THE HELL CAMMARANO so yeah there’s that
well, I’ve been in love with Carmen since I was 7, so...
so many! Figaro seems like he’d be a pretty awesome BFF
Three words: Così. fan. tutte
La gioconda, which has okay music overall (although ‘Stella dal marinar’ is good and the Dance of the Hours is an absolute BOP) but I like the plot a lot better (imagine how it would have been if Verdi or even Boito wrote the music!). also ‘Cielo e mar’ is the third-most overrated tenor aria of all time and you can fight me on that.
way too many (again), but I gotta say it: especially in Verdi, Furlanetto simply cannot be beat.
so many ridiculous roles...you know what’s ridiculous? Hélène in Les veprês siciliennes. At least she gets a scene off, but other than that it’s *high notes* *low notes* *coloratura* *declamation over a huge orchestra and chorus* *sassing the French* *cadenza* *repeat for three hours*
I have been meaning to watch Boris Godunov in its entirety for a while and I WILL THIS WEEK (thanks, Met Opera!). Also literally any Wagner. I was going to see the Met HD of Höllander but you know what happened.
Tosca for tragedies, Barbiere di Siviglia for comedies, Don Giovanni for everyone.
4 notes
·
View notes
Last night of Opera Atelier’s Don Giovanni at Ed Mirvish Theatre. The opera is more light-hearted and comical than I expected, otherwise a lovely production with fabulous 18th century costume. The Commendatore scene was a good bump and relief to the overall mischievous sexual comedy feel of the opera. Of course, that is the most famous (and the only memorable) scene. This production's Commendatore scene is not the best I saw, but still chilling to watch in real life. (The best, in my opinion, is still the scene in the Oscar-awarded movie Amadeus, and I strongly recommend it to any Mozart, 18th-century, or opera lover.)
As a theatre, Ed Mirvish's lobby is the smallest one I have ever seen. Unavoidably, it was packed to the extreme during the intermission. The stage and the seating are spacious, though. The highlight of the night was that I saw a group of people in 18th century costume after the opera. They were very cute and a nice touch to the setting -- I didn't take their picture, for privacy reasons. I had a little chat with one of them. They told me they were historical reenactors from The Royal Yorkers -- the American loyalist regiment settled in Ontario after the Revolution! The old man in green-coated Royal Yorkers uniform said to me: "We might have lost the war, but we must remember our culture!" Talking about Ontario's fixation with his loyalist heritage! XDDD I cannot help but imagine Oliver/ProCan Ontario speaking with hard-feigned seriousness and puffed propriety (Is that tsundere I am describing?). I told the gentleman I am an American from New York, and he was like "Ooooh George Washington's men" XDDDD
I checked out their website, which has pictures of reenactment and uniforms. Look at what I found in "The Original Regiment" section:
"It is unfortunate that Canadians have forgotten their colonial history. While many are familiar with rebellious Americans like George Washington and Paul Revere, most are completely unaware of the Loyal men and women who opposed those notorious Americans. Those Loyal Americans with their ideals, their values and their dreams built early Canada and the foundations of our existing government."
That is tsundere I am seeing right??!! "Rebellious" Americans, "Loyal" men and women, "notorious" Americans, Those Loyal Americans... Omg they are living breathing Loyalist Ontarians!!! (Sorry for the joke and the weird excitement.) (And the original Royal Yorkers were really from New York!) Is that you, Oliver "I-feel-personally-victimized-by-the-Americans" Stanley????
Ontario: It is an unfortunate outcome of history that Canadians nowadays tend to forget their loyalist heritage, while many are even more familiar with those filthy-*ahem*-notorious rebels...
Manitoba: Gah, it is that time of the year again.
Quebec: Not my heritage.
Ontario: Shut up you traitors.
... *Cough* Sorry for the unsolicited headcanon! Meanwhile, I have spotted many poppies recently. This is due to the Remembrance Day. They remind me of what I saw in the UK. A Commonwealth tradition poppies are, then! It does surprise me that Ontarians take Remembrance/WW1 so seriously, to the degree that I am seeing so many people wearing poppy pins on the streets these days. I cannot help but imagine this is the month Oliver gets all British and tears up once a year.
Ontario: Just... let me have my moment and pray for those who gave their lives to the Commonwealth in peace, you ungrateful imbeciles! *sniffs*
... Seriously, I do think Ontario still clings to his British heritage on some affective level, even if he might not be as loyalist as before! It is just that nowadays he interprets this heritage to be constitutive of what it means to be Canadian. There are even poppies in the mall! Look! Even the mannequins in the shop windows are wearing poppies! This is surely not a sight seen in the US.
... Ahem... So sorry for being all touristy and typically American! Lovely night to all and We Remember, too ;) (China did participate in WW1 by sending 140,000 laborers to the front, even though the Allies, being your typical imperial powers, transferred German colonies in China to Japan after the war, thus instigating the May Fourth Movement.)
3 notes
·
View notes
thoughts on “modern” opera productions!
this has been sitting in my inbox forever and i thought 'yeah i'll answer that sometime' and then i went and fucked off to pittsburgh for like a week but now... i am here. i have fire in my veins. and i can't go to work at the moment so i'm going a little insane. perfect timing to write about "modern" setting opera productions and why i have it Fucking Out for them most of the time
so i know the big joke is that i have it out for modern setting opera productions but there's a caveat here, and the caveat depends on three things:
a) if it works with what's in the source material and/or provides something additionally meaningful instead of messing up the existent dynamics,
b) if it understands that audience sympathy and modernization do not go hand in hand, or
c) if it pisses off opera boomers (funny).
the lucia di lammermoor at the met right now that everyone's panicking over i think works because, third point aside, it works with what's already there. the whole idea of mental health struggles both affecting and being taken out on women, as well as the concept of women having to carry the public image of their families, works both in Ye Olde Scotland and modern southern America. plus, the new setting adds an additional sort of patheticness (in that perfect sort of pitiable way) to the whole 'you must keep up our DISTINGUISHED family NAME' when said distinguished family name is a corrupt car dealership, and i think that's really genuinely interesting; it doesn't take away from or act in defiance of the original but adds a new layer on top. and again, it makes people mad, and that's funny.
so if there's some modern productions i'm okay with, why do i hate so many of them? and the answer comes down to a few key features.
number one. directors want to do an ironic take on something and in the process sort of ruin it. lucia, as previously stated, works with its irony because it's still very genuine in spite of it. but there's a lot of operas where the director thinks they can provide commentary on parts that haven't aged well (or that they just plain disagree with) by making the characters act like blatant assholes and having any sense of peace or good will be absolutely obliterated. now this isn't an issue specific to modern setting productions but it tends to be really common with them. now this isn't to say directors can never put characters or situations in different lights, but it Is to say that making something too mean spirited can spoil it.
this is especially annoying when the opera is actually rather idealistic in nature and the director's just trying to be like "OH BUT TRUE LOVE DOESN'T EXIST" like... maybe go watch a cinemasins video or whatever it is edgy 14 year olds do these days and take a break from directing opera until you feel better.
number two. certain dynamics tend to get lost in translation when done in modern settings. you especially see this in operas revolving around class dynamics, although others are to be included as well. take don giovanni, for example, a show i have never really liked any modern setting productions of (despite it ofc being my favorite opera). leporello's entire character hinges on the dynamics of 17th century class servitude, along with other power imbalances of the time. in a more 'modern' setting, where leporello is just the don's assistant or a close friend, it doesn't make sense why he has little to no agency over the don's actions because there isn't the 'servants of the 17th century had to follow their masters' orders or McFucking Die' notion in the mix- and this directly leads to the modern idea of making leporello into a slimy, unlikable enabler instead of the more benign and sympathetic figure he's meant to be seen as. there's many more examples here but that one comes to mind and that's a major failing of modern setting productions, even if the vague general concepts are timeless.
number three. directors think that the audience can only empathize with modern characters. this is the biggest issue and, i think, the worst one. there was a tweet a going around a while ago like 'oh i cant relate to finding nemo because i'm not a fish' and that's really a TLDR of this situation. directors have this need to make everything easier to the audience to relate to, and while this strategy might work with the shallow, it kind of... removes one of the main points of theatre and fiction as a whole... which is TO WORK TO UNDERSTAND AND EMPATHIZE WITH PEOPLE THAT ARE DIFFERENT THAN YOU. opera's themes are universal; rigoletto is about ableism and misogyny and how societal power structures are built on their backs; the marriage of figaro is about class not determining the merit of a person (and misogyny and power Again), tosca is about the plurality of god and how religion and politics are inseparably linked. all of these themes are things we aren't unused to. you COULD of course make the argument that a modern setting shows the audience that these struggles have always been there, but in my mind that's spelling it out for them and i like letting them make the connection for themselves. it's much more profound to connect to something that'c obviously set in a different time than it is to connect to something that happened in a story taking place just last week with characters roughly Your age. you have to let the audience do some work to understand the piece. part of the joy of opera is that it feels like you're not alone in your struggles, and having a modern setting kind of removes that feeling. that and there's this idea in fiction that a character has to be just like you for you to understand them, which... i evidently thoroughly dislike. i am making a story here, not a #relatable buzzfeed quiz. empathy isn't created by putting the characters in modern slacks and handing them an iphone. it's created by damn good writing and portrayals, which opera has in spades but just needs to.... actually realize it has in spades. modern settings are thoroughly superficial in this way.
number four. directors think that old timey costumes and situations are ridiculous. this sorta goes hand in hand with the last one. listen here's the big secret: all genuine expression of human emotion? it's going to be inevitably, wonderfully ridiculous! you cannot have something that is incredibly profound without it looking at least slightly silly to someone somewhere out there. because that's human nature. we are all just a bunch of apes on a big rock in space trying to do our best, and we have to embrace the inherent silliness of profundity if we want to express it. once again this is an issue boiling down to 'director wants all of the vulnerability without none of the actual vulnerability' and shooting themselves in the foot over it.
TLDR for this one: you are going to look at the guy onstage in a 14th century jester costume and you are going to understand him and have a Moment over it, and then you will understand how connected we all really are and how art is a repeated journey of telling the world that there was someone there, and it mattered. Oh and if you stage The Rakes Progress in a modern setting GO TO JAIL NOW. i yield my time
61 notes
·
View notes
Read it on AO3 here <3
Chapter 2/19
THE BOY WHO LOVED Chapter 2
-The Forbidden Forest Topic -
•
“Martino! You with us?”, the teacher made Martino jump out of his thoughts as he called him out.
“I... yeah, I´m here”
“Well then?”
“Then what?”
“I´d like to hear the answer to my question, Martino”
Fuck. Yes. He didn´t pay attention and he had no clue what was going on right now. His thoughts had drifted away again. To a certain boy. A certain boy with black hair and beautiful eyes...
“I´m sorry, I-”
“You didn´t pay attention, I know, Martino. Please, focus! Back to our interpretation of Ovid´s text,” the teacher said while he turned back to the blackboard to write down notes. Marti heard giggles from behind his back and as he turned around, he saw Gio and Elia making funny faces and laughing at his faux pas. These fuckers!
The moment the bell signalled the end of the school day Marti left the school as if his life depended on it. Today was one of these days his six hours of school felt like twenty. One of those days he wasn´t able to concentrate on the things he should. One of those days his thoughts drifted away every few minutes. One of those days he can´t wait to go home and lie down in his bed again. Post something on his Bookstagram. Read a book.
But before he could do that, he was meeting up with his friends in front of the school.
“Hey Marti,” Gio greeted him as they fist bumped. He repeated it with Elia and Luca and after it they fell back into the conversation they had before Marti had arrived.
“It was literally the best, especially as Il Peccio started to dance, well “dance”, you know, Marti?,” Elia asked him and grinned. “Oh no wait, you would have known if you would have been there.,” he continued and his gaze roamed over to Marti.
“Hey! I already told you that I stayed at home with my mom. And I promise, next time I´ll be there,” Marti said, his remorse hit in.
“You better be! You really missed something!,” Gio said, patting his best friend´s shoulder.
“What? Peccio dancing? Believe me, I´ve already seen that and honestly, it´s nothing I´d like to repeat,” Marti answered, grinning.
“Better, Marti! Better! Just one word: Girls!,” Luca butted in.
Girls. The one, constantly recurring topic. The one topic Martino is sick of. The one topic he really doesn´t want to talk about: Girls this, girls that. This. This was one of the reasons which would bring him to tell his friends about his feelings, his love life. Which nearly brought him to do so a few times already. Tell them that he likes boys. To not have to endure these talks, this topic anymore. Well, at least to not have to pretend anymore. To pretend that he feels like them, that he feels the same about girls as they do. But to do so, one thing is missing. This one person, this one boy who´s worth it to tell his secret. To accept the possible outcomes of his coming out. That his friends would not think the same of him anymore as they do now. Or even worse, that they would stop being friends with him because he´s gay. No more hugs and late-night talks with his best friend Gio. No more teasing Elia or getting teased by him. No more listening to Luca´s stories about his failed attempts at flirting. No, he would not want to risk this. Never. His friends were too important to him.
His angsty spinning thoughts got distracted by Gio waving his hand in front of Marti´s eyes. It happened again, his mind and thoughts completely drifting away.
“Martino! You with us?,” he tried to imitate their teacher from before, a big grin on his face. As he looked at Elia and Luca, he saw that they were mirroring Gio´s expression. Assholes.
“Oh fuck off!,” Marti said, trying to push his best friend away, but Giovanni was faster, already stepping out of his personal space.
“But well, are you coming with us, Marti?,” he asked and looked at Marti, expecting.
“Where?”
“At my place, getting pizza before and playing a few rounds of FIFA. I´m ready to kick your boring ass, Marti!”
“Oh, you sure about that? If I'm right I was the one who won all of our previous matches. So dream on!,” Marti said cocky, now being the one who had a grin on his face.
“Let´s see, Marti, let´s see!”
“But another time. I really need to go home and catch up on some school work, I´m so far behind”
“Boring, Marti, boooring,” he heard Elia say as he was already ready to get going, Luca next to him.
“See you tomorrow, guys,” Marti said as they started to head to the bus stop. Before Giovanni was leaving, he turned back to Martino, giving him a fond smile.
“Everything okay with you? How´s your mom doing?,” he asked Marti, a hand on his shoulder. A gesture, a touch that would have made Marti´s heart beat faster a few years ago. But it´s over now.
“Yeah, everything good. With me and with her, both of us. I´m just really tired as... I stayed up a little too late yesterday and I really need to do some things for school,” Marti answered.
“Okay, that´s fine. I´ll see you tomorrow then”. After a short hug Gio disappeared and went after Elia and Luchino. As he was out of his sight, Marti turned around in the other direction and headed home too. Finally.
---
As soon as he closed the apartment door behind him and put his keys away, his mother was already appearing, giving him a hug and a kiss to the cheek.
“How was school, sweetheart?,” she asked him as she stepped back, heading back to the living room, Marti behind her.
“Nice... I mean, okay. A bit boring, but well, I guess it was okay,” Martino answered.
“Well then. By the way, I´m going to watch a movie, maybe make some popcorn. Do you wanna join me?,” she asked her son, waiting for his answer.
“I´d love to, mom, but I´m actually really behind with some of my schoolwork and need to catch up as soon as possible. I´m sorry, but I would love to do this any other day again,” he said, a guilty look approaching on his face.
“Don´t worry, Marti!,” his mother smiled at him and he couldn't help but mirroring her expression.
“I love you, mom,” he said as he went over to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“I love you too, Marti,” she answered, the smile never leaving her face. And with that Marti left for his room, sitting down at his desk. School work. What a wonderful thing to do on a Monday afternoon.
---
Well, being productive looked different. He really wanted to do something, catch up with his school work. But he couldn´t help. And so it happened that Martino was sitting on his bed after already 15 minutes again. His phone inn his hands., ready to post a new picture on his Bookstagram account. He was scrolling through his gallery, searching for a pic he hasn´t posted yet. After a few minutes he found one, a picture of “It” by Stephen King, a book he read back in summer. And he loved it! Well, let´s just leave the fact aside that he finished it in the middle of the night and literally had a nightmare as he went to sleep. But still, he really enjoyed the story. He added a caption under his post, including his opinion on the post and a bit of more or less unnecessary chatter. He hit the post-button and after a while, the first notifications started to appear. Many likes, a few comments complimenting his picture, a few comments sharing their own opinion on the book, a few people trying to promote their own account or business. He loved it, the communication with his followers. One of the best parts about the whole Bookstagram thing! But especially one comment caught his attention.
nicoissurroundedbymuggles: and again: YOU FOR REAL?! YOU LIKED THIS CRAP BUT CAN`T STAND HARRY POTTER?? WHAT`S WRONG WITH YOU?!
martislibrary: @nicoissurroundedbymuggles and again: if you can´t live with my opinion... *Marti has left the chat*
nicoissurroundedbymuggles: @martislibrary Still not sure if this is how Instagram works, Marti 😛
A grin immediately appeared on Marti´s face. Wide. Bright. Radiating happiness. And suddenly he felt the urge to reread these messages. The messages between him and Nico. Well, no sooner said than done. He opened his and Nico´s chat, scrolled to the very top and started reading. Going through all the emotions he had whilst writing and reading these messages yesterday night again. Especially one caught his attention
“nicoissurroundedbymuggles: Well then you need to do the Pottermore test for you to be sure and accept that you´re not in Slytherin”
Pottermore. It´s not that he was actually interested in anything Harry Potter related. But his curiosity won. His curiosity to know what Nico was talking about. He took his laptop from his desk, placed it on his lap and opened his browser, typing “Pottermore” into Google. The first result already was said website. As he opened it, dozens of different articles and photos immediately caught his eyes. “The top five most fashionable teachers of Hogwarts”, “Take a new look at Hagrid´s Magical Creature´s Motorbike Adventure ride”, “The definitive Rubeus Hagrid quiz”, and so on and on. Nothing special, nothing that would impress Marti. It seemed like the perfect website for Harry Potter fans and stans. Like Nico. But then one button caught his attention: “Sorting”. Clicking on it, the next page showed the line “Discover your Hogwarts House”. This must be what Nico was talking about. Martino actually didn´t know what got into him but suddenly he saw himself creating an account on this website and starting this quiz. Answering questions. And honestly? How are questions like “Moon or Stars” or “Left or Right” supposed to tell anything about the house you're in. And again, he was wondering why he bothered to think about such topics. Anything related to Harry Potter. A book he didn´t like at all. Well, a text conversation with a cute boy exactly about this topic later and he sat in front of Pottermore. Marti shook his head, immediately trying to get his thoughts about this “cute boy” out of his head. And he continued answering the following questions of the quiz. The Sorting Hat quiz. Honestly? How drunk or high must a person be to come up with a talking hat?!
A few minutes later, he leaned back as he finished the quiz, waiting for his result. And then the page showed him his apparent Hogwarts house.
“Congratulations on being sorted into...
...Slytherin.”
Ha!
•••
The Sorting Hat spoke: Marti is a Slytherin, wuhu :D
Thank you for reading and I’d love to hear what you think of it in the comments or my ask box <3
18 notes
·
View notes
on to the finish line! The Alienist, 1x09 and 1x10
I really, really don’t like that Mary was killed. I think it’s fair to call this fridging - Mary’s death is primarily significant because Laszlo loves(/d) her - she didn’t really have an onscreen arc of her own - although the show certainly implies she’s had quite a journey to become the woman she is.
That being said, I appreciate that the scene at her funeral features Stevie and Cyrus, who were members of her household and her friends, and that John reads at the interment. It’s not much, but at least the show makes and effort to be clear she was a beloved member of a community, no matter how small. The character deserved better, but I’ve seen much worse.
Also, because this show really wanted to hurt me, Theodore Roosevelt, in offering his sympathies to Laszlo, tells him “Please forgive me for offering the same advice you once gave me. You are not alone in your sorrow, and there’s no shame in grieving for those you love.” Presumably Laszlo told him that in February of 1884, when Alice Hathaway Lee Roosevelt, his first wife, died hours after Roosevelt’s mother, Mittie Bullock Roosevelt (on February 14th, too). I appreciate the validation: that Mary was just as important to Laszlo as Alice had been to TR. Doesn’t help with the fridging, but it lends narrative weight to Mary’s short arc.
(also, Laszlo kissing the earth her throws on Mary’s coffin is a new standard of pain for me.)
honestly, Lucius should have let Marcus bash Doyle’s skull in. how many slurs can a man fit into a two minute interrogation? jesus. forget van Bergen, Doyle and Connor make me want to scrub until my skin comes off.
The short scene between Stevie and Cyrus after Mary’s funeral is the most important scene. Stevie, scrubbing dishes, taking up the space that Mary should be in, crying and swearing he’s going to get Connor? Cyrus nonchalantly sharpening a pocketknife and telling Stevie that he doesn’t have to cut a man’s throat to kill him, he just needs to nick a vein? again, they were Mary’s friends and surrogate family. Their grief, especially as those who have been wronged by society and the police/criminal justice system in the past, is important.
I genuinely was not expecting that, that the murderer had been an enumerator.
it’s always cats. Seriously, this show talked about the connection between cruelty to animals and cruelty towards humans - kill animals as an early warning sign? - but I, personally, would have loved a digression on the connection in between reformers trying to eliminate cruelty to children and cruelty to animals in the late 19th century.
WILL SOMEONE PLEASE SHOOT CONNOR
god, Cyrus, you were so close.
for once, this refrain of “jfc, Laszlo” is brought to you not by Laszlo being a dick to Sara or John or Mary, but because of him getting drunk, monologuing @ his dead father in German, and stabbing himself in the bad arm what the hell
EW EW EW EW EW EW EW
Theodore Roosevelt: Moment Killer. c’mon, let Sara and John have an actual conversation and heart-to-heart already.
oh, man. This conversation between Sara and Laszlo was heavy, hurt, and was a really, really long time coming. I’m glad Laszlo finally apologized for hitting her, and meant it - he’s been cavalier with the harm he’s done others. And ... jesus. What an admission from Sara. It’s understandable, just knowing that her father died by suicide, that her father is a sore subject and that the lessons he taught her are so sacred. But that he’d tried and failed, and - at 12 years old! - she’d helped him kill himself because he asked? I paused the episode and just put my head in my hands. And thank Christ Laszlo acted like her friend, finally, and not the titular alienist. ~Growth~
(I’m less surprised by Laszlo’s own admission - that his father broke his arm so badly as a child it never healed properly - though, again, it’s a sincerely painful moment, but two things? it’s been hinted at since episode six, and, coming on the heels of Sara’s confession, it feels less like a narrative blow and more like a blood-letting: a clearing of the air, an apology, a pact.)
The fellowship has been reassembled!
“I’m not the least bit frightened by these ... psychopaths.” John’s grandmother (Mrs. Moore?) is an icon, I tell you.
well, the murderer is Private Starks. That’s something? I’m always glad to see my Mercy Street folks popping up elsewhere but, wow, this is going to kill my ability to watch 1x05 and 1x06, now.
awww, if it isn’t one of my favorite tropes: bidding farewell to loved ones before going into danger. Marcus Isaacson AND Teddy R.
we take the moment to put the plot on hold in order to reveal that John’s fiance didn’t just dump him, Julia Pratt left him to pursue a relationship with John Jacob Astor IV! DAMN.
Laszlo really had to wait until the last scene of the opera, when Don Giovanni gets dragged to Hell, in order to make a break for it?! thematically appropriate and solidifying his position as the most dramatic.
ohhhhhh, man. this whole sequence makes me so claustrophobic I’m itching. maybe that’s the wrong word? The atmosphere is so oppressive, the darkness pushing in on all sides, the water steadily dripping? Well done, show.
... I honestly expected Laszlo to be angrier, more upset? when Connor confronts him. They all know Connor killed Mary. But bravo, Sara, for killing Connor. Finally.
Roosevelt telling Sara her father would have been proud of her is such a bittersweet moment!
HE HAD A RING FOR MARY IM NOT OKAY on the one hand, Laszlo, you only managed to ask her to have dinner with you one (1) time! but also rather in character for him, all told, that he’d have gotten that far ahead of himself but at the end of the day, I repeat, I am not okay with this information.
Honestly, John staring at Sara with hearts in his eyes? hard same.
“I still believe we can be better than nature intended.” bold words for someone who’s just been through nearly a half year of Hell. Proud of you, Laszlo.
So that’s it! This has been ... quite a ride. I think it’s pretty clear this show’s the product of the 90s - when the book was written - its concerns about the origins of serial killers & the development of forensic science, and, honestly, how it deals with women and people of color. It did have some of the Good Stuff re: social commentary and critiques of power and especially police forces. I stand by my observation - that some of the dialogue and plotting was clunky, and, looking back on the episodes, it dragged a little bit in the middle for me. I’m curious about how the book stacks up, tbh. All in all, not bad for something I watched almost entirely for the costume and set design (and Daniel Bruhl). Will watch again?
2 notes
·
View notes
Interrail Day 8 - part 1
Day 8! A hefty full day in Prague! We decided to to a 3hour (yikes) walking tour as early as possible because ye gads is it hot in Prague. The earliest one was at 10am when it was only (ONLY) 24 degrees. Our accommodation is actually quite a good central location, it’s within a 20 minute walk from most things, so we can get about easily. Trams are insane: they always have right of way because they will. not. stop. Cross when one is coming at your own risk! We had a bit of difficulty finding OUR walking tour, and asked a few other guides from the same company where to go. Eventually we just joined on to the start of a different tour (same company, still free) and I am SO glad we did! Our tour guide Filip was amazing! He was quite funny, but overall he was SO enthusiastic about what he was talking about to the point where the tour didn’t feel like it took long at all. We started in the Old Town Square (there were horses in the back) to begin with. The memorial statue (picture 1) is a depiction of Jan Hus ((sometimes anglicised as John Huss)). He had spoken out against the hypocrisy of tyranny of the church, and was a predecessor to the reformation in Europe. He was burned at the stake for his heresy, but many people did not agree with this and thus revolted in his name. Because of this, Czechia (then Bohemia) managed to survive 5 crusades sent against them by the Pope, and took part in one of Europe’s longest religious wars. Across from this memorial (which is roughly off-centre to the middle of the square)) there is a Town Hall (picture 2). The only original part of the church is the darker coloured brick facade, as the rest was destroyed during the Czech uprising during the Second World War. In front of the church is 27 white crosses. This is to represent the 27 leaders of the Protestand Rebellion who were executed on this spot in 1621. The Bohemian Revolt, as it was called, was a revolt against the Catholic House of Habsburg who were in charge of the country and had until now respected the 90% Protestant country, yet suddenly decided to demand everyone become Catholic. The leaders threw some of the Habsburg’s advisors out of the castle window (this had previously been done in the wars after Jan Hus was executed) but unfortunately they survived, as the advisors landed on a big ole pile of horse manure. Thus, the leaders were arrested, and hanged or beheaded in the square. Round the side, on the Town Hall side, there is the Astronomical Clock. This clock tells us the time (in 24hr time), the positions of the moon, and the sun, and what Zodiac its in. It also tells you when the sun will go down, and when it will rise. The dial underneath shows you what date it is in the month, and what day of the year in relation to what saint’s day it is (for example, 26th of December is St. Wenceslaus’ Day, the patron saint of Czechia). It’s incredibly old and incredibly intricate, and almost entirely still original components. We wandered through various areas of the city, stopping outside Franz Kafka’s house, and the house where Sigmund Freud was born! We passed by the old theatre, which is where Mozart first opened with “The Marriage of Figaro”, and the theatre is now almost entirely dedicated to him, with a statue of Don Giovanni outside it, and a plaque to commemorate Mozart himself conducting a production there.
5 notes
·
View notes