My parents have been repeatedly insisting that I write up a post concerning my weeklong operatic adventure, and my mind has been repeatedly letting that same request fall by the wayside. However, this morning, my parents pointed out that on last Sunday's FRONT PAGE was, yes, you guessed it - a picture of me. Not that I was actually credited or anything, only Seneca, our program director and leader of the backstage tour where we were photographed, is actually mentioned in the caption, but there I am, front and center on the Sunday cover of the Seattle Times. Okay, front and bottom right, but same-diff.
Back to the point. "Experience the Ring" was a one-week intensive on Richard Wagner's legendary (news to me) "Ring of the Nibelungs" four-part series. I signed up on a recommendation from my opera club advisor, Mr. Bliss. He insisted that the $100 program was a steal to see the whole cycle, no matter that we would actually be seeing the final dress rehearsal of each, since he paid $650 four years ago for nosebleed seats. At his urging, I actually scored even more of a discount, since my early signup gave me one of the $50 scholarships, meaning that removing the price of the libretto we received as part of the program ($13.50 retail) and the probable cost of art supplies ($3-5 per person), we saw each opera for less than nine dollars, which, given the superb quality of Seattle Opera's rendition of the Ring Cycle, paired with the knowledge that this year's Ring has attendees from 49 states, 8 Canadian provinces, and 23 countries, makes this whole program the deal of the century.
The first day of the program, I thought I'd signed up for an extra week of IB English. Having spent the last literary year predominantly in the study of drama, with Shakespeare's "Hamlet," Anouilh's "Antigone," and Beckett's "Waiting for Godot," opening the program with three consecutive powerpoint lectures nearly gave me a panic attack. Don't get me wrong - I'm glad they gave some context for Wagner's life, and comparisons between his music and later leitmotifs (character themes) were certainly intriguing, if sometimes fluffy, but the whole thing suddenly felt like a very very painful mistake. Besides, having nearly thirty girls in a room together to talk about anything seems like a bit of a bad idea. Apparently all the boys (except Seneca and John, half of our brave team o' interns) chickened out this year. Four years ago, the program was 50/50, but whatever. I love my opera girlies, now.
The week was divvied up between opera discussions pre- and post-watching, generally informational lectures on Wagner, Bayreuth, opera, etcetera, and a general, overarching "project" everyone did, which could be anything from typographically pretty-fying the name "Wagner" and sketching an accompanying portrait (Annie), translating an aria into French and singing it (yeah, Amy!) or moulding a vaguely obscene sculpture out of clay to fit a small theme noticed early on in the first opera (that was me). The pre-operatic plot summaries were frustratingly detailed, leading me to find more than a few of the slower scenes exhaustingly slow. I can't deny that I fell asleep a couple times, which most likely came from a combination of late night post-opera not-sleeping and the frustrating predictability of the operas, as a result of our interns' minutely detailed explanations. What, I wonder, gave them the idea that analyzing the opera before we actually saw the opera would add to our enjoyment? I would liken the problem to listening to someone talk about a movie you haven't seen - ineffective and a little frustrating, and completely lacking the enthusiasm the storyteller is hoping for.
Overall, the operas themselves, a legendary part of the history of the art itself and staged beautifully, were both impressive and intriguing. I'm glad I did the camp, and it's worth noting that it got me onto the front page of the Sunday Seattle Times (yay for being a young operagoer!), if only anonymously, so my parents think it was worthwhile, too.
Somebody asked me which opera was my favorite. "Das Rheingold" was probably the prettiest, and perhaps the most mythological, which I loved. "Die Valkyrie" had the most widely known music, and some of the coolest costumes. "Siegfried" was the comic relief play, which definitely catered to my interests (funny, clever, and legendary), and "Gotterdammerung" had set design and manipulation to rival the best I've seen at Seattle Opera. Frankly, I have no clue. I loved tidbits from each one, but mostly, I'm just glad I got to see them. What an awesome way to spend a week!
Signing off.
No comments:
Post a Comment