Oh! I wasn’t? Well, maybe I wasn’t talking about it, but I was thinking about it, and in my household, that constitutes a continuing conversation rather than a festival of non-sequiturs. That’s the way we operate. First, someone says something that appears to be completely out of the ether, Left Field, or a secret portion of the anatomy generally best left out of conversation. The ensuing stretch of interminable seconds is usually occupied with the second person working out madly in his or her head what the remark meant, how on earth it had any relevance, if it is possible to decipher, and–oh! There it is! Suddenly, the very long and convoluted train of thought that led from a comment or conversation long since ended (or so one thought) reappears, not having stopped at the station or even derailed but instead having wound through uncharted territory and visited innumerable exotic towns along the way before returning to view.
Sometimes it's as though I'd taken some sort of strange potion and time shifted . . .
As my spouse and I have just returned from a theatre viewed the Metropolitan Opera‘s live-transmission broadcast of Giuseppe Verdi‘s ‘Ernani‘, I can say that we two are evidently not alone in this discombobulating sense of the very tenuous connectivity of perceived reality. I was quite delighted with seeing the broadcast, our whole reason for attending in the first place being the Met live-broadcast debut of the exquisite-voiced Angela Meade, who ‘graduated’ university with my husband in a sense, being a senior student and outstanding soprano soloist in the choir he conducted and took on his farewell Scandinavian tour as he left the university where he’d been teaching for 18 years. Besides her very lovely persona, we knew and admired the beauty of her voice then and she proved again today that it has only further ripened into full bloom. Frankly, she could open the poorly translated operating manual for a lawn mower and sing from it and it would be musically and artistically fulfilling and entirely worth the hearing.
While I’m being frank, I’d have to say in addition that I think the libretto of ‘Ernani’ could be surpassed in literary merit, coherence and comprehensibility by the aforementioned lawn mower manual. Opera is, admittedly, rarely sought out for its exemplary logic and natural progression or, probably, for much resemblance to the real world and its history and human actions therein. That’s not why we go to the opera. But among operas I’ve seen and heard, ‘Ernani’ is mighty high (and I use the word advisedly) on the short list of the most wildly improbable, disjointed and just plain wacky so-called plots. That train not only left the rails right out of the station, it went straight off a cliff.
Let Elvira sing Hey, nonny nonny, Ernani, you ninny!
Meanwhile, back in his studio, young Signore Verdi was either smitten enough with the romance of a love quadrangle to ignore the outrageously outlandish pastiche on a plot-line, or perhaps had merely imbibed an entire Jeroboam of Barolo by himself, because he took that absurd libretto and proceeded to set the whole thing to equally incongruous music. Three hours of it. Thankfully, whether the Barolo had any chance to or not, Verdi eventually matured into writing stuff that had some relationship to the text, however ludicrous the latter happened to be.
Opera is at least so honest as to call itself ‘work’, it’s just not entirely up-front about the post-compositional work remaining to be done by audience members who might find it quite the laborious process to decipher what’s going on, with whom, and how. Never mind when, where and why. But I mustn’t pick at nits too freely; after all, our nice little cozy home conversations might just as well constitute the storyline of some incipient opera themselves. I have no musical compositional skills, so I couldn’t compete with Verdi even at his most immature, but maybe if I gloss over my melodic shortcomings with a few additional high Cs and a royal assassination or two thrown in no one will even notice that I’ve wandered far and constantly from my original subject. I may have mentioned that I tend to do that. I forget. Oh, well. It happens. And while I’m on the subject . . .
Ooh! Pretty flower! Now, where was I?
Art-Colored Glasses 
Bravo, Bravo!! And beautiful images to boot! Love the pretty flower (of course).;)
Franklinia. I’d never seen one in person until we were in Boston in June. They are so wonderfully tissue-like!
a most amusing introduction to abstract art
I’m glad you enjoyed it, my friend!
That sounds like a great night out. I love it when I have a friend on stage and get to see them perform. It adds so much to the night out.
Absolutely! That’s yet another reason I feel so privileged to be surrounded by incredible artists–musicians and otherwise. Twice the fun in the performances.
You got my attention when you mentioned thoughts being spoken out of left field. I do it all the time. My first two sentences have only been spoken in my mind and when the third is said out loud my husband gets the strangest look on his face. Yes…he is trying to figure out what must have come before. Now I know that I am not the only one who does this.
Oh, I can say with confidence that you are *faaaar* from being the only one! 😉
“Your inner monologue is leaking again,” is what I tell Hubby… 🙂
Ha ha ha ha.. awesome!
Yep, the perfect description! 😀
Nothing like a night out at the opera, I love it more when i do NOT try to follow what is going on, i’m only there for the costumes anyway!! oh and the tenors! c
In my opinion, the soprano and the basses beat the socks off of the tenor in this particular production–but the costumes *were* pretty gorgeous all through the production! Definitely one of the things I like about the Met broadcast productions (and something you’d appreciate too, with your background) is the behind-scenes view in the intervals; not a bad way to see how that one of the Big houses operates.
I love the word picture you created of the hapless Signore Verdi in his studio – Barolo or love – both options made me smile. I have never been to the opera, I think I need to put it on my list of things to do before I die. 🙂
In addition to the potential for artistic inspiration in the bottle, the wine might make a perfect preface to the right opera. 🙂 I haven’t seen a huge number of operas, but enough to know that if one goes with an open mind and ready for spectacle, and gets some good performers on a decent night, there are any number of ways to spend a deeply entertaining opera outing. Not to mention that going to the opera is the perfect excuse for, say that little black dress and your pearls and some fabulous ballet flats in a brilliant color . . . . 😉
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I chuckled all the way through this piece, Kathryn. Well, when I wasn’t musing about the 2 of us facing off against each other in some sort of debate. After some 30 minutes of spirited but polite back-and-forth, during which we each spoke of things from apricots to zebras on the Serengeti, hopefully someone will remind us that the original question was, “So, before we begin, tell us a little about yourselves.” 🙂
I’m pretty sure there’d be tons of laughing all ’round on that occasion! And, hopefully, pasta. 😀
My husband is very good at continuing conversations over months. I admit I do that now and then myself.
I enjoyed your review of the opera. And I love the picture of the woman and the flower. Lovely.
So glad you enjoyed it all! And The Woman is me, about 20 yrs ago, wearing a plastic gown (my grad school colleague John Ford took the shot and I just did all of the digital after-monkeying). 😉 Those Franklinia blooms are *so* translucent . . . the way the light plays on them is quite amazing.
ROFL!!! I haven’t been to an Opera yet but have hopes for some time in the future. But I’ll be going mostly for the experience and on the sole principle that one must try to do all “good” things at least once because I am supremely musically challenged and will be utterly clueless as to what is going on. (I wonder if anyone has thought of printing ‘Opera for Dummies.’)
In the meantime, I thoroughly enjoyed your preview of it and your photos! 🙂
Guess what! Yes, that potentially outstanding book *is* available. If I may, for anyone not hugely experienced with music or knowledgeable about opera, a comic opera’s a good place to start. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Comic_opera
Something like ‘Die Fledermaus’ or ‘Merry Widow’ or ‘Gianni Schicchi’ or ‘La Cenerentola’, perhaps. Lots of laughs and fluff and fun costumes and all that sort of stuff. I’m a sucker for that sort of thing myself! 😀
Ripples, ruffles & petals…
And a nice, zen-like mini poem in response from my dear Lindy Lee!!
xo
I love these photos today.. so filled with beauty… I’d love one up on a wall in my studio.. I had a good laugh, yes, I ramble on in my head and think that everyone’s following my train of thought! I adore the opera, how fortunate that you know an opera singer or two.. I have to go look up this libretti so I know what you’re commenting on today. I’m afraid I haven’t seen this one yet! Aren’t the Met live broadcasts awesome!?
Well, you know I’ve already given you license to use my images as you please, since I think we share appreciation for a number of things, visual and otherwise, so do as you like my dear. Yes, I still pinch myself all the time (you should see how black-and-blue I get!) over all of the amazing performers I’ve been privileged to meet and/or know. Yes, the Met broadcasts are impressive. What a boon to those of us who can’t get to NYC or afford real Met prices!!
Ramble on, my dearie!
Kathryn