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Oct. 22nd, 2006 11:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickWent to the Akbar and opera. I really like Akbar, which provides a tasty start to the opera season. The opera itself was The Siege of Corinth (Hint: not a comedy) by Rossini. The Siege of Corinth, which is an opera that nobody ever gets to see because it's not performed very often, is a pretty good example of bel canto because you get a lot of bel canto for your money. Seriously.
Hell, yes. There's also a chick in trousers who is pretending to be a guy a la Monstrous Regiment, which leads to a lesbian love affair and, during the Seige, the inevitable suicide attack squad of one Pamira, goddess of wisdom (with slightly disgruntled penguin at her side). Or... maybe it wasn't quite like that. I'd had a good deal of indian food beforehand and some really tasty brownies made with absurdly expensive chocolate at halftime.
In real life, the story is about the Greeks (in Corinth) and the Turks (the bad guys) who are sieging it. There's the guy in charge of the Greeks (Cleomene), his daughter (Pamira), this chick dressed up like a guy (Neocle) who is supposed to really be a guy in the same way that Shakespeare used to dress up young guys like women and expected the audience to put up with that, and Maometto, head of the Turks and The Enemy(tm). The Turks, who wear little crescent moon helmets to show that they're properly heathen, are coming after Corinth. The Corinth Greek Soldiers, despite rather a lot of singing about how brave they are, are losing... but they're losing bravely which, as it turns out, is really the important thing.
Cleomene is reminded by Neocle (the chick in drag) that he's promised his daughter Pamira to Neocle. Pamira is like, "Yo, dad, no can do. I so love this other guy whom I hooked up with whilst I was in Athens, name of Almanzor. Seriously. Sorry, Neocle. (eyes Neocle suspiciously, does best PoTC Jack Sparrow imitation) Are you sure you're not a eunuch?" [I am making up the eunuch parts for humorous effect. The use of mezzo-sopranos in Trouser Roles has a long and honorable history in opera and allows for an end run around the annoying shortage of tenors because there are a lot more mezzo-sopranos than there are really good tenors. Everybody in the actual opera pretends that Neocle is passing as a guy without any suspicion whatsoever and our Neocle had a hell of a voice on her, so it was all good. I still think it's funny, though.] Cleomene is not particularly impressed with that because he owns the hymen, damn it, and it goes where he *says* it goes, even if that's to amazingly unequipped beardless soldiers named Neocle, but whatever. Cleomene makes Pamira promise not to let the heathen Turks have her and he hands her a dagger with which to defend her honor.
Meanwhile, the Turks are attacking again and the Chief Turk, Maometto comes in with his entourage, all happy about beating up the Corinthians. His men notice that he's... softer and more metrosexual than he used to be and Maometto admits that he met this really hawt chick while he was touring Athens under the assumed name of Almanzor (bet you couldn't see that coming at all, could you?) and his love for her has softened his rough warrior edges or whatever. The fact that he moisturizes and cleans under his nails, however, doesn't seem to put his men off. In the midst of all this, Cleomene (the lead Greek dude) is drug in by Turks and he refuses to surrender. While he's refusing, Pamira shows up, having apparently just waltzed in. You'd *think* that there would be, y'know, a perimeter guard and a bit of Halt! Who goes there? given that they are AT WAR and stuff, but apparently daughters of the opposition's rulers can just wander around wherever they want. Maometto and Pamira recognise each other in what is, for opera, an astonishingly short period of time.
Maometto, who is clearly not up to speed on dealing with women, says, "Pamira, if you marry me, I will spare Corinth." Smooth move there, with the threatening, boy-o!
Pamira, who fails to grasp the benefits of playing harder to get so's to get more concessions from the emotionally-besotted party, is like "Okay, I'll marry you." (What about trade agreements? Reparations? Amnesty for the home team's soldiers? Christ, she's giving away the game without even TRYING... I blame her lack of home training, here. In a world where women are basically markers in the great game of politics, it's helpful if they have some idea of what the hell their JOB is instead of being mindless. Even pawns benefit from knowing how the game, as a whole, is played... and this is important because sometimes, just sometimes, pawns grow up to be queens.)
Cleomene, who apparently cannot understand that he is totally losing the war, reminds Pamira that he was planning on giving her to the militarily non-valuable Neocle and then, when she still opts for the Turk, disowns her for picking the Evil Turk (who honestly appears to care for her despite being clueless about talking to women). My thing here is that if Cleomene is that damn worried about who his daughter was meeting up with in Athens, why didn't he send her with a chaperone or just keep her ass closer to home where she couldn't meet the wrong kind of man and would be more willing to settle for the right kind of woman?
That's Act 1. In Act 2, Pamira and Maometto prep for the wedding. Pamira is kind of upset that her father has disowned her, probably because she doesn't have anyone else to give her away at the ceremony. Maometto tries to cheer her up, with smooth talking like he's displayed previously. At the wedding proper, Neocle shows up and yells at Pamira for consorting with the enemy and being a not-very-loyal Corinthian. Maometto is all like, "Who the hell is this eunuch?" but Pamria allows as how he's her brother and Maometto backs off. The Corinthians show up (despite losing the battles endlessly, there are still enough of them to make an impressive show) and Pamira is stirred to ill-timed patriotism. She declares her love for Corinth stronger than her love for Maometto and goes to hang with her peeps. Maometto, left at the altar, declares that he's going to flatten Corinth. Even the columns and the leather factories.
Act 3 brings us Neocle, who is trying to get Pamira and Cleomene talking to each other again. Neocle, who is quite fond of Pamira, doesn't think that Pamira would ever fall prey to teh hawt sex0r because that would be a base and impure love. (Yeah, keep thinking that, beardless boy.) Pamira seems quite taken with Neocle, at this point. Anyway, his ploy works and Pamira and Cleomene reunite. Everybody prays for guidance. The guidance is apparently Go Forth and Die Bravely! Guidance like that, I'd be looking for a second opinion, but not the Corinthians. The Corinthian Men (and the one woman in drag) go forth to Die Bravely! Er. Yay? The Corinthian Women (including Pamira) wait on stage. Praying. The Turks, who are winning, come in with Dear Leader Maometto in front. He heads for Pamira, who draws the dagger her father gave her to defend her honor with and kills herself in front of Maometto. Yeah. Like that's going to do any good. And then the Turks slaughter the people of Corinth.
The End.
I also got a season sampler CD which sort of previews the operas for the season. This is because we give money over and above the ticket price to support the opera. Mom wants to listen to it, too, so I have to rip her a copy here directly.
In other news, after just eight years as season ticket holders, we have managed to score AISLE SEATS in GTC, which is (imho) absolutely perfect opera seating. We had been in N, 14 & 15, but now we are in M (one row closer) 18 & 19 (just on the left side of the aisle, almost the center). This makes for (a) extra leg room for my mother and (b) really quick escapes after the final curtain so that we can be first out of the parking lot before the old people have even managed to toddle out to their volvos and mercedeses. The reason we got upgraded seating was that I wrote a note in the online ticket request thing to see if they could get us aisle seats because of my mother's crippling hip arthritis, blah blah, might have to stop subscribing, blah blah. (I felt a little guilty doing this because we are younger than a lot of the audience, but it worked and I'm not giving the seats back.)
Also, while operas are a wonderful celebration of assorted elements of the human spirit and make a considerable effort to show us at our best and worst, the most interesting thing I saw at the opera was before it started. While we were all getting seated, an older gentleman collapsed on the stairs about four rows in front of us. His knee had given out and he just crumpled, unable to really stand, let alone climb stairs. A very classy-looking lady with striking grey hair, who had the aisle seat at the row where the gentleman had fallen, swapped her ticket for his and climbed the stairs to take the seat he couldn't reach. (I am not sure how they got him out of the opera because we took advantage of our really great aisle seats to leave early and beat the parking lot clog.)
Finally, whatever they did with the text/font/contrast for the surtitles really worked. They were astonishingly legible this time. Sometimes they aren't, but every word was crisp and clear this time.
Hell, yes. There's also a chick in trousers who is pretending to be a guy a la Monstrous Regiment, which leads to a lesbian love affair and, during the Seige, the inevitable suicide attack squad of one Pamira, goddess of wisdom (with slightly disgruntled penguin at her side). Or... maybe it wasn't quite like that. I'd had a good deal of indian food beforehand and some really tasty brownies made with absurdly expensive chocolate at halftime.
In real life, the story is about the Greeks (in Corinth) and the Turks (the bad guys) who are sieging it. There's the guy in charge of the Greeks (Cleomene), his daughter (Pamira), this chick dressed up like a guy (Neocle) who is supposed to really be a guy in the same way that Shakespeare used to dress up young guys like women and expected the audience to put up with that, and Maometto, head of the Turks and The Enemy(tm). The Turks, who wear little crescent moon helmets to show that they're properly heathen, are coming after Corinth. The Corinth Greek Soldiers, despite rather a lot of singing about how brave they are, are losing... but they're losing bravely which, as it turns out, is really the important thing.
Cleomene is reminded by Neocle (the chick in drag) that he's promised his daughter Pamira to Neocle. Pamira is like, "Yo, dad, no can do. I so love this other guy whom I hooked up with whilst I was in Athens, name of Almanzor. Seriously. Sorry, Neocle. (eyes Neocle suspiciously, does best PoTC Jack Sparrow imitation) Are you sure you're not a eunuch?" [I am making up the eunuch parts for humorous effect. The use of mezzo-sopranos in Trouser Roles has a long and honorable history in opera and allows for an end run around the annoying shortage of tenors because there are a lot more mezzo-sopranos than there are really good tenors. Everybody in the actual opera pretends that Neocle is passing as a guy without any suspicion whatsoever and our Neocle had a hell of a voice on her, so it was all good. I still think it's funny, though.] Cleomene is not particularly impressed with that because he owns the hymen, damn it, and it goes where he *says* it goes, even if that's to amazingly unequipped beardless soldiers named Neocle, but whatever. Cleomene makes Pamira promise not to let the heathen Turks have her and he hands her a dagger with which to defend her honor.
Meanwhile, the Turks are attacking again and the Chief Turk, Maometto comes in with his entourage, all happy about beating up the Corinthians. His men notice that he's... softer and more metrosexual than he used to be and Maometto admits that he met this really hawt chick while he was touring Athens under the assumed name of Almanzor (bet you couldn't see that coming at all, could you?) and his love for her has softened his rough warrior edges or whatever. The fact that he moisturizes and cleans under his nails, however, doesn't seem to put his men off. In the midst of all this, Cleomene (the lead Greek dude) is drug in by Turks and he refuses to surrender. While he's refusing, Pamira shows up, having apparently just waltzed in. You'd *think* that there would be, y'know, a perimeter guard and a bit of Halt! Who goes there? given that they are AT WAR and stuff, but apparently daughters of the opposition's rulers can just wander around wherever they want. Maometto and Pamira recognise each other in what is, for opera, an astonishingly short period of time.
Maometto, who is clearly not up to speed on dealing with women, says, "Pamira, if you marry me, I will spare Corinth." Smooth move there, with the threatening, boy-o!
Pamira, who fails to grasp the benefits of playing harder to get so's to get more concessions from the emotionally-besotted party, is like "Okay, I'll marry you." (What about trade agreements? Reparations? Amnesty for the home team's soldiers? Christ, she's giving away the game without even TRYING... I blame her lack of home training, here. In a world where women are basically markers in the great game of politics, it's helpful if they have some idea of what the hell their JOB is instead of being mindless. Even pawns benefit from knowing how the game, as a whole, is played... and this is important because sometimes, just sometimes, pawns grow up to be queens.)
Cleomene, who apparently cannot understand that he is totally losing the war, reminds Pamira that he was planning on giving her to the militarily non-valuable Neocle and then, when she still opts for the Turk, disowns her for picking the Evil Turk (who honestly appears to care for her despite being clueless about talking to women). My thing here is that if Cleomene is that damn worried about who his daughter was meeting up with in Athens, why didn't he send her with a chaperone or just keep her ass closer to home where she couldn't meet the wrong kind of man and would be more willing to settle for the right kind of woman?
That's Act 1. In Act 2, Pamira and Maometto prep for the wedding. Pamira is kind of upset that her father has disowned her, probably because she doesn't have anyone else to give her away at the ceremony. Maometto tries to cheer her up, with smooth talking like he's displayed previously. At the wedding proper, Neocle shows up and yells at Pamira for consorting with the enemy and being a not-very-loyal Corinthian. Maometto is all like, "Who the hell is this eunuch?" but Pamria allows as how he's her brother and Maometto backs off. The Corinthians show up (despite losing the battles endlessly, there are still enough of them to make an impressive show) and Pamira is stirred to ill-timed patriotism. She declares her love for Corinth stronger than her love for Maometto and goes to hang with her peeps. Maometto, left at the altar, declares that he's going to flatten Corinth. Even the columns and the leather factories.
Act 3 brings us Neocle, who is trying to get Pamira and Cleomene talking to each other again. Neocle, who is quite fond of Pamira, doesn't think that Pamira would ever fall prey to teh hawt sex0r because that would be a base and impure love. (Yeah, keep thinking that, beardless boy.) Pamira seems quite taken with Neocle, at this point. Anyway, his ploy works and Pamira and Cleomene reunite. Everybody prays for guidance. The guidance is apparently Go Forth and Die Bravely! Guidance like that, I'd be looking for a second opinion, but not the Corinthians. The Corinthian Men (and the one woman in drag) go forth to Die Bravely! Er. Yay? The Corinthian Women (including Pamira) wait on stage. Praying. The Turks, who are winning, come in with Dear Leader Maometto in front. He heads for Pamira, who draws the dagger her father gave her to defend her honor with and kills herself in front of Maometto. Yeah. Like that's going to do any good. And then the Turks slaughter the people of Corinth.
The End.
I also got a season sampler CD which sort of previews the operas for the season. This is because we give money over and above the ticket price to support the opera. Mom wants to listen to it, too, so I have to rip her a copy here directly.
In other news, after just eight years as season ticket holders, we have managed to score AISLE SEATS in GTC, which is (imho) absolutely perfect opera seating. We had been in N, 14 & 15, but now we are in M (one row closer) 18 & 19 (just on the left side of the aisle, almost the center). This makes for (a) extra leg room for my mother and (b) really quick escapes after the final curtain so that we can be first out of the parking lot before the old people have even managed to toddle out to their volvos and mercedeses. The reason we got upgraded seating was that I wrote a note in the online ticket request thing to see if they could get us aisle seats because of my mother's crippling hip arthritis, blah blah, might have to stop subscribing, blah blah. (I felt a little guilty doing this because we are younger than a lot of the audience, but it worked and I'm not giving the seats back.)
Also, while operas are a wonderful celebration of assorted elements of the human spirit and make a considerable effort to show us at our best and worst, the most interesting thing I saw at the opera was before it started. While we were all getting seated, an older gentleman collapsed on the stairs about four rows in front of us. His knee had given out and he just crumpled, unable to really stand, let alone climb stairs. A very classy-looking lady with striking grey hair, who had the aisle seat at the row where the gentleman had fallen, swapped her ticket for his and climbed the stairs to take the seat he couldn't reach. (I am not sure how they got him out of the opera because we took advantage of our really great aisle seats to leave early and beat the parking lot clog.)
Finally, whatever they did with the text/font/contrast for the surtitles really worked. They were astonishingly legible this time. Sometimes they aren't, but every word was crisp and clear this time.
