My Otello experience began the moment I stepped into the Metropolitan Opera House, met by many elegantly-dressed audience members as well as complementing crystal chandeliers. I was amazed by the number of attendees at the Met on a weeknight, featuring an array of ages and backgrounds. While approaching my seat in the balcony, I began to wonder how my perspective of the performance would differ from my fellow spectators and concluded that, even though we would live through the same events together throughout different sections of the grand hall, we would all internalize the moments individually. While admiring the amber to red colors on the walls before me, I even began to remember my first opera experience as a child and I grew excited to see this distinct form of art through an older viewpoint, perhaps unveiling a different appreciation for the upcoming beautiful performance.
As the curtains opened and the first scene began to unfold, my attention was drawn to the dark lighting in the background accompanied by a serious and dramatic tone produced by the orchestra. I was fascinated by the movement of numerous cast members as a uniformed body along the stage and how Desdemona stood out among the great crowd due to her white dress against the darker-colored clothing of the other actors/actresses. Soon, I also discovered that I greatly enjoyed sitting above, rather than in-level with, the stage, obtaining a bird’s eye-view of multiple parts that made Verdi’s Otello unique. For example, I had the chance to notice all of the formations created by the transparent stage pieces, such as mazes of streets outside or indoor sections of a lavish home, as well as observe the thought-provoking openings of sections of a set of screens (possibly representing ocean waves) towards the end of the production, all creating a noteworthy three-dimensional aspect to the play. I began to realize that the composer specifically wanted the audience to notice the transparency of the blocks, hinting that the spectators knew more about the secrets or intricacies of the play than the characters did, and that the unconcealed transport of various stage pieces was intended to generate a feeling of evolvement (many events taking place within a short span of time), thus creating fluidity in the presentation.
Once I realized that several parts of Shakespeare’s original play were altered (modification/deletion of scenes and unexpected physical appearances of cast members for certain characters), I was pleased to finally see the authentic-styled handkerchief and hear Desdemona perform the “Willow Song”, both presented in the way I pictured each to be while reading the play. Although it was difficult to see all of the minute details, I was able to discern red spots (assuming to be strawberries) on the white handkerchief, highlighting that the symbolic representations of purity and marriage coincided with those focused on in Shakespeare’s play. Similarly, the “Willow Song” was presented with Desdemona wearing a white gown (parallel to the beginning when she wore her wedding dress), portraying her continuous innocence as she slowly moved and gently sang the melody to a generally calm instrumental accompaniment. Furthermore, I felt that the placement of just a bed with a nightstand and chair on the stage, a simple arrangement rather than a combination of many pieces, allowed the audience to focus on the fragility Desdemona exhibited and gave a chance to sympathize with her vulnerability, her fright for her unavoidable fate. The combination of era-related costumes, hues of light, movement/placement of stage pieces, and mood-dependent instrumental/vocal music allowed Otello to truly come alive from the sole words written and scenes previously imagined, even despite the slight modifications made throughout the opera.
Attending Verdi’s Otello reminded me of Duncan’s observation of museums as the defining cultural centers of a city. Throughout my time at the Metropolitan Opera, I similarly felt that I was in a unique artistic enclosure within the diversified New York City, surrounded by people who all shared an admiration for the magical work produced in an opera. It was an unforgettable experience to be able to connect what I learned in a classroom setting to the picturesque performance presented, especially through the recognition of scenes without the use of captions on the screen before me (such as the duel between Roderigo and Cassio after an episode of intoxication, an argument between Emilia and Iago after the handkerchief was found/taken, and the eavesdropping conducted by Otello on Iago and Cassio’s conversation that ultimately destroyed Desdemona). The opera is an incredible art of its own kind, one that synchronizes physical movement across the stage and goosebump-creating voices of several vocal ranges with musical variations (from staccato to legato and from piano to forte) produced by a harmonizing compilation of instruments in the orchestra- a thrilling start to the performances to come throughout this seminar.
