The Arts in New York City

All right, let me just put this out there. I am a musician, I played in an orchestra for years and have been singing even longer. That being said, I was super-duper-duper-duper psyched to go to the opera. And at the MET? Come on, I was in my glory.

I will also admit that, as I have stated in previous blogs, I hate pretentious, snobby, phony people, so it may seem a bit of a paradox that I enjoyed the opera as much as I did, but hey, our seats were so far away, I didn’t really have to associate with any of those hoity-patois. I could actually enjoy the opera for what it was.

And boy, was it amazing. The set was fantastic. I would absolutely adore to be able to enter the stage on a riding set, it seemed like a lot of fun! I also believe that the bleak brick colors added a nice tone to the whole show. And lets not forget those pyrotechnics at the end! That was like a scene from Drag Me to Hell, so cool! I really want to know how they managed to open it up like that. Sadly, I could not appreciate the intricacy of the costumes because, well, we were practically sitting on the roof watching, but from what I could see they were extremely authentic.

But those singers, it makes me want to give up singing forever knowing that I will never be able to stretch my range to the point that Zerlina did. They truly were the cream of the crop. Having never been to a live opera, I was completely fascinated by the whole thing. By the middle of the first act, (thanks to the subtitles) I had pretty much forgotten they were speaking a different language, and by the second act (weird as this may sound) I kind of forgot they were singing. I had become so immersed in the story that I, the fidget-queen if there ever was one, felt the three-some-odd hours go by like that! *snap*

That being said, yes, I immensely enjoyed the opera, as a matter of fact, it was my favorite performance of the semester (imagine that, it didn’t even have Jesse Eisenberg!) However, I do not think the opera successfully related itself to a younger audience. I mean, come on, Aamir was dozing off next to me the entire second act. Perhaps if we had been closer to the stage, it would have been different, but I really doubt it. I think that the opera, if it truly wants to attract the young-uns, has to invoke a little more pizzazz. We should have some more modern, contemporary operas. Who says they all have to take place a billion years ago? To relate to an audience today, maybe an opera should take place today, just saying.

Walking down the velvet stairs during intermission, (and wondering where exactly they got all of this velvet) watching the old farts chowing down on overpriced meals and swilling champagne, I realized that the MET encompasses that idea that Manhattan is a dream, where all the rich come out at night to play. It really is sad that so many people came to the opera just to eat and look worldly when in fact they came to eat a million dollar piece of cake while wearing their nicest furs; I feel it is a bit of an injustice to the performers. Regardless, with everyone dressed to the nines for a ritzy night out in a beautiful part of Manhattan, it certainly was a dream to anyone and everyone.

A month and a half ago I chose the subject of the opera to write about for what epitomizes as “Uptown New York”. The opera, I said was made “to gather people of high society. Intermission [is] the preferred part of the spectacle. Because it is then, during the break, that they are able to converse and compare and compete.”

Was I right? Well according to the opera handout, apparently.

But besides a couple of elderly women squeezing their way in front of me for the restroom line, I found that the members of the nosebleeds section were not as haughty as I had anticipated.

But what did I think of the performance? Well, most of the songs were not very memorable, the set list was not aimed towards a younger generation- not one pop song was included! There was a particular ballad though, that I really enjoyed. It was the one in which Don Giovanni’s servant, Leporello, divulges the number of women his master had been with. I thought the song that particular performance was very comical.

The story itself was altogether enjoyable, and easy to follow even for a younger audience (the message of the performance: live the lifestyle of a philanderer and you’ll basically end up in hell). I found that many of the characters were self-absorbed, aggravating, or stupid. And that Don Giovanni irked me the most. It’s bad enough to constantly seduce women, but to kill someone’s father because he wouldn’t allow you to run off mysteriously into the dark? During this part of the performance I was literally shaking my head and wagging my finger at Don Giovanni’s careless behavior.

And then here were the idiotic women! They were so loose with their bodies, and such horrible judges of character! Especially that Donna Elvira, trying to act as though she was looking out for the engaged Zerlina’s well being. Really, Elvira? What did impress me were the actors, the fact that I couldn’t see their faces did not bother me at all; their emotions and states of minds were expressively portrayed through their body language and they way they were positioned on the stage. However others around my age might not have found the stage flashy or high-tech enough.

I thought the costumes were put together all right. Though the only particularly memorable one was the initial outfit f Elvira. I liked and appreciated how mobile the set was, I thought it was very innovative how they were able to portray different settings by simply moving the set around.

Altogether, I had a great experience at the opera. I was able to follow the story pretty much completely, as I was awake for most of it. I fell asleep about forty-five minutes into the second act, but I woke up just in time for the fiery conclusion! I can’t say the length of the opera appealed very to a young audience as many of my classmates fell asleep for much longer than I did. Some had to even resort to creating their own back-stories in order to stay awake. “I imagined the whole thing as RuPaul’s Drag Race,” Eric said after the performance. “It turned out very interestingly actually.”

So yes, to sum it all up I must say the opera as a whole does not reach out a younger audience, from the songs, the set, and the story-line, it was clearly seen that we were not the generation the production was aim towards. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t like what I got to see.

Now… Well-dressed men and women congregating to watch a performance in a language most of them don’t understand? Check. Adults purchasing expensive champagnes and baked goods? Check.  Gorgeous, sparkling high chandeliers and velvet everything? Check. As for the experience being a New York nightmare or fantasy… the opera portrays the glamorous side of New York, the unattainable part, the relevant part. People move to New York with high hopes of congregating with this social group. New York is often seen as this, New York is often idealized as this. The opera is definitely part of the New York fantasy.

Lights! Stairs! Glamorous people! Champagneee…oh the opera experience.  I don’t know about you, but this wasn’t something I experience every day.  And frankly, I was kind of torn between thoughts of excited “Oh how beautiful!” and cynical “Oh, look at me! *holds up one pinky*, I’m posh.” Being surrounded by the beautiful aesthetics of the Met Opera was a big part of the experience to me, besides Don Giovanni itself (which I’ll get to), and it set some of my thoughts on opera even before the performance.  Come on, you really can’t ignore walking up an enormous staircase carpeted by red velvet.  It makes you feel important.  And all dressed up like we were that night, you feel like a somebody.  Still though, the cynical me was thinking:  “Look at me, I’m rich, I go to the opera” while realistic me was screaming “You’re a college student who wears sweatshirts and denim, calm down.”

But in all seriousness, isn’t that what the opera is supposed to be doing–appealing to the youth who wear sweatshirts and denim?  How can the opera continue to exist if it doesn’t appeal to a future generation?  I’d like to say that the opera does a so-so job in the attempted appeal.  While the music isn’t quite what’s on the Billboard’s Top 100 Hits, and most young people are not listening to this type of music, I believe that those who are willing to be open to it recognize its incredibility.  Yes, it is somewhat tiresome to listen (and in our case, also, read) to a person sing about one topic for 10 minutes, but on the other hand, it’s amazing that one person can sing for so long.  And we’re not talking poor-quality, auto-tuned singing.  This is 100% pure vocals, with a 100% pure musical accompaniment.  If you mess up, well then it sucks to be you in front of that crowd of 1000 or so people (no big deal, whatever).  I think recognizing this puts you in awe of the talent the singers possess, and makes the opera experience a more enjoyable one, one that appealed to me as a young viewer.

I also have something to say about the set and costume design in regards to a young audience appeal.  While some may say that the style was old-fashioned, and therefore, not relatable, the style actually makes me feel a longing for the past.  I’ll admit the “apartment-window-like” set (I really can’t think of another way to describe it) was kind of cheesy and looked like it was trying too hard to be old-fashioned.  But I felt the costumes accurately reflected the clothing of the time period.  You could clearly (take the word clearly figuratively here, please) see the distinctions between the elite’s fancy clothing and that of the common people.  Call me weird, but I kind of wish I was around during the 18th century so I could wear clothes like that; I love the elegance.  And towards the end when the woman whose father was killed was wearing black–that was an accurate depiction of the cultural practice of mourning.  Excuse me for not remembering any of their names.  While being so high up I could barely see their faces, and so remembering who was who became kind of a difficult task.

The cynical vs. elegant thoughts I mentioned in the beginning are how I relate the opera to our topic of New York City as a fantasy/nightmare.  Some of us hated the performance, and oh what a nightmare it would be to return to the Metropolitan Opera.  To return and be surrounded by all these elite people who spend $20 on a flute of champagne (or however much it was), who pay hundreds of dollars to sit in a private section and take in the performance.  The old Jews have a saying of “Oy gevalt!”–Oh no!  But on the other hand, such gorgeous snowflake-shaped lights, such an exquisite theater, such a view when you looked down from the lobby of the balcony. Specifically because I’m not part of the elite class did I look upon it as a fantasy.  And listening to opera music–again, either “oh the horror!” or “what allure!”  Me, I was feeling the allure that night.  Let’s just pretend I never took a few short snoozes when I knew the actor was going to sing about a topic for the next ten minutes (give me a break, nobody told me to make sure I got enough hours of sleep the previous night).