CUNY Macaulay Honors College at Baruch College/Professor Bernstein

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don’t forget your (steel covered) umbrella!

While sitting in the room waiting for the reading to commence, I noticed a man sitting down in the front row with his back facing me, seeming to be oblivious to whatever was around him; he was reading a book and seemed unaware of everyone standing and talking around him. Little did I know that that man was actually Richard Price himself.

Contrary to my belief that he was a reticent man, his readings from Lush Life and of his encounter with a “woman prophetist” were so engaging that I found myself inching further to the edge of the seat, drawn to his storytelling. Every single sentence he spoke aloud were abundant in description and details. The slang terms used by the policemen and the descriptions of the city streets made the story more engaging for listeners.

His question and answer session was even more interesting to me; I would think that a writer who includes so many minute details and captivating imagery would have to take notes, but he informed the audience that he rarely took notes, and he called himself “just being a sponge” and learning through osmosis about life in the Lower East Side and the separated communities there. He spoke of the fact that he learned on his own, pursuing his writing career with only encouragement and validation from his teachers when he was in school. His down-to-earth conversation with the audience brought me to realize that this author was not ostentatious, but extremely humble, and in one word, talented.

Hazel enjoys chewing on Brownie’s ear instead of eating dog food…

Pull up your pants buddy!

Doing my part cleaning up the neighborhood, one tree at a time

Protecting the streets of Brooklyn

at the “World’s Largest McDonald’s” in Orlando, Florida

Sometimes bubbles can completely end a bad mood.

Random Bubbles on Broadway? Well, that’s a definite.

I wonder if Bubble Man got the memo.

“Just Wen Bo chillin with his boys.”

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As the curtains drew open and fell into an elegant drape, they revealed vibrant colors and pure merriment that accompanied the mood introduced by the orchestra.  Watching the scene unfold was like watching a masterful painting reworking itself seamlessly and beautifully.  There was a feeling only the Metropolitan Opera could give a person, that they were transported somewhere completely different to enjoy an art of a different age.  I’ve never truly appreciated opera and have often fallen asleep during them.  The smooth movement and seemingly never-changing singing used to wear on my eyes and ears and draw me into a deep lull.  When I was young, I would be woken up with the sound of my aunt’s voice (a choreographer who took me to some shows and rehearsals); the night of Rigoletto, I was determinedly staying awake helped by the gentleman snoring loudly next to me.

Perhaps it was because I actually knew the plot of the opera that made it more interesting to see; knowing what’s going to happen allows one to be entranced by the costuming, set, music, and emotion.  From a vibrant set in Act I to the darker set of Acts II and III, a warm, burgundy material was prominent in the costumes of the Duke, Rigoletto, Gilda’s nurse Giovanna, and Countess Ceprano.  The color seemed to be symbolic of the curse and the pain the Duke causes; the Countess Ceprano is representative of the Duke’s disrespect for women, their significant others and relatives and Giovanna is representative of her inability to successfully care for her charge.  Rigoletto wears quite a bit of the burgundy in his jester outfit, but in the next scene where he meets Sparafucile, he only wears a small cape of the color.  As soon as he enters the house, it is removed and alternately placed around his daughter and himself.  Maybe it wasn’t intentional, but an interesting detail to explore.

Aside from the costuming, George Gagnidze’s portrayal of Rigoletto was so powerful and I was unaware of his illness during the performance.  The voice and acting of the Duke was quite commendable as well.  I was pleasantly surprised by Gilda’s piercing voice which by the end had an eerie but enjoyable ring.  I found Sparafucile’s voice to be the most impressive; it had power but sweetness to it that fit his cunning and vicious role in the play.

I stayed awake the whole opera, my eyes following the subtle movements of the dresses, then the exchange between father and daughter, and the final bit of the curse as the actors ran around the set; if only I could have heard the music without the accompaniment of deep inhales and exhales.  However, the grandeur and feeling provided by the orchestra, the set, the singing, the actors, and the entire production made it worthwhile.  The curtains were drawn down as gracefully as they were opened to mark the end of a picturesque production.