A Night at the Opera, Round 2

You're willing to pay him a thousand dollars a night just for singing? Why, you can get a phonograph record of Minnie the Moocher for 75 cents. And for a buck and a quarter, you can get Minnie.
--Groucho Marx, A Night at the Opera, 1935

(Susanna and Cherobino. Thanks to NYTimes online for the image!)

Today is my Name Day, which doesn't really mean much. I'm assuming it goes back to Saint Days, although we celebrate it in a Scandinavian vein; meaning, if I were home, that I would be having a cupcake from Ecklof's Bakery (actually, I would be having half a vanilla cupcake and half a chocolate cupcake, because that is the protocol on one's Name Day.) Today is also the day that my student loans become due. In honor of that, I would like to quote David Sedaris, who so often articulates what I am thinking: "I came home this afternoon and checked the machine for a message from UPS but the only message I got was from the company that holds my student loan, Sallie Mae. Sallie Mae sounds like a naive and barefoot hillbilly girl but in fact they are a ruthless and aggressive conglomeration of bullies located in a tall brick building somewhere in Kansas. I picture it to be the tallest building in that state and I have decided they hire their employees straight out of prison. It scares me." (from the Santaland Diaries.)

So in honor of my impending debt, and just because, last night I went to see my favorite opera, The Marriage of Figaro (or Le Nozze de Figaro.) And it was wonderful. I waited in line for rush tickets again, although the basement of Lincoln Center is not heated, as it turns out. I did make an older-lady friend in line, although she was NOT as much a Mozart fan as I was. She has been coming to the opera with her husband since 1968, and so has seen her fair share of Figaro's...I still don't think I would ever be sick of him. She suggested some modern operas to me, which is good, because I definitely tend to the classical and need to branch out. We ended up getting seats next to each other (Row K!! For $20!! Rush tickets rock) and afterwards she patted me on the arm and said, "here's to many more years of your opera viewing, dear."

I actually think that Figaro works better in a smaller theater, since Mozart's music is so crazy good that some of the intricacies get lost or swallowed up in a theater as huge as the Met ("it sounds jewel-like in Prague," said my old-lady buddy. Good golly!). But, no matter. The sets were nifty, the singing was glorious, Susanna (Danielle de Niese) was pretty and her comic timing was great, Figaro (Luca Pisaroni) was charming and smart, and the Count and Countess (Ludovic Tezier and Annette Dasch) were smarmy and wounded, respectively, although I think the stand-out was Cherobino (Isabel Leonard) who played the dippy lovesick nobleman to perfection. There wasn't as much chemistry as there could have been between Figaro and Susanna, but I was too high on Mozart-joy to care. The conducting was also speedier than I'd heard before (the overture especially) but I actually kind of liked that--it made it especially energetic. The story, originally by Beaumarchais, tells of infidelity, intrigue, baby-snatching, cross-dressing, more intrigue, scheming servants, double weddings, and apologies. In short, it's a big ol' farce. Plus, it is funny...I think when people think "opera" they don't often think about how funny it can be. True, the misogyny in this one is pretty heavy, but I think Mozart and DaPonte were making fun of the men for being self-righteous, and anyway, Susanna slaps Figaro, like, 5 times, so it all evens out in the end. (Although, I'd like the Count to have more of a comeuppance.)

The opera ends with apologies from the Count to his long-suffering wife, who forgives him. And Figaro and Susanna forgive each other. And all is well. I would nominate Act IV's finale as the greatest music ever written; it is so manic but controlled, and fast and contemplative and lovely. Ahh. For a pretty good clip from the Met's '99 production, you can watch here. The sets appear to be the same now, or very similar. And the text of the finale states that, "This day of torment,
Of caprices and folly, Love can end, Only in contentment and joy." Forgiveness and love reigns, at least for a little while. Not much better than that, although it sounds less banal in Italian.

Click here for a review and some audio clips from this season (Figaro's aria where he's talking to Cherubino about getting ready for the military, and the Countess's hauntingly sad aria from Act III that always makes me kind of tear up.) For a review plus a little plot exposition, click here. For my past blogging about the Met, click here. For one of my favorite arias (Bartolo's La Vendetta), click here. (Although this guy has a super cheesy moustache.) For one of my favorite duets (Susanna and Countess strategize and letter-write), click here.

That Mozart. He's one of the few people I would be willing to risk pneumonia in the basement of Lincoln Center for.