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The Exterminating Angel

Maryam

The Exterminating Angel surprised me. I’d never gone to an opera before, but I’d heard that they were just entirely song. Not musicals, but song nonetheless. I was excited to hear beautiful voices expressing beautiful things. I also had my preconceptions of the audience in an opera—predominantly middle-aged and older, and white. I was pretty disappointed when I got to heard beautiful voices performing choppy thoughts, and confusing plotlines. But even in my disappointment, I found nuggets of surprise.

My mother always drones about Italian operas and how at the performance, there were little translating screens. I would think, why even go. But after our trip, I realized without that little screen, I wouldn’t know what was said even if English was my first language. And if I were to guess, who had the time to indulge in the storylines of predominantly or entirely white casts, singing about God knows what, I would have assumed—like I did assume—that like the predominantly or entirely white cast, the audience would also be predominantly or entirely white. I went into the opera house expecting that, and I was correct. There were people of color here and there, but nothing compares to the amount of whiteness I saw. And specifically, 40 years old and older. While Singh urges readers to liberate themselves from their preconceived notions and possible expectations, I couldn’t seem to do so, since my assumptions were proven true.

Not all was bad, however. I never thought operas could bend the lines of artistry the way The Exterminating Angel did. But before that… It never registered to me that there would be an orchestra. I assumed the voices of the cast would carry the entire show. But The Exterminating Angel proved that any work can be redeemed at least somewhat if the music is good. And the orchestra was brilliant, probably my favorite part. Because I had not assumptions going in, I was able to experience raw and true art, the kind that Singh urges the audience to seek out, not the art that slides into the molds we have, but the kind that reminds us that life, real life, doesn’t have perfectly crisp edges and ends. Instead, it is unpredictable. And boy was The Exterminating Angel unpredictable. Never in my life would I have expected sheep on a stage. And here they were. Front and center for all of us to see. Boundaries that I didn’t even know I set up were broken with this opera. I placed the opera into a box it did not b elong. I tried to define it in a way we try to define photography. I tried to demand technicalities that didn’t need to exist. Instead of the thirds principle of photography, I expected archetypical tragic plot—boy that is not what I got.

The element of surprise if very powerful in artistic form. We all have expectations of the forms of art we consume, and when those expectations are ignored and we are given something entirely different, regardless of the quality, the newness of the experience sears it into memory. And that memory is the most powerful of all, for it is art in its truest form, and Singh believes.

Opera Blog Post

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When I looked at the syllabus to see that we were going to the opera, the first thing I was told by my friend was that I needed to dress up and look nice because everyone looks nice at the opera. She wasn’t wrong. As soon as I stepped foot into the theater, everyone was dressed as if we were back in the 1900s and it was time for high tea. This was one of the many preconceived notions I had about the opera before I walked in. I figured, just as many others did, that the opera was full of pompous, well off white people that came in suits and brought binoculars. There was a vast difference between the people that usually attend and the Macaulay students that were there. I distinctly remember getting a few looks from the staff, questioning as if I was lost and wasn’t meant to be there. I didn’t think I was going to enjoy this experience at all. When we were all seated though, the opera house shed a bit of a different light on some of my previous notions.

Yes, a majority of the people that attended were well dressed, pompous white people, but sitting in the dark with everyone just watching the stage seemed to make those differences fade. I’ll be honest and say I didn’t understand the performance at all and the singing of regular conversation was giving me a headache, but it was nice to see that everyone faded into one group. We weren’t separated by socio-economic class or race or age, we were all just there trying to figure out why there was sheep and why the butler had to drop the ragout. While it was nice to see everyone come together to watch this performance, I don’t see myself attending another opera, mainly because I felt extremely out of place. After the show, a few of my previous notions changed, but one important notion that I think stuck with me as soon as I set foot into the place was that I was an outsider. Everyone had come prepared with binoculars and coat check was selling cushions and I had no clue what was going on. I think watching a performance at the opera is an eye-opening experience to see what it’s like, but I feel like unless you are brought up visiting the opera, it’s a little harder to get used to.

The Mt

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The Opera was always, in my mind something that older, rich, “cultured” people did to pass time, just because they could. It was often portrayed in the media as some very white people in Viking costumes singing words that made no sense.  It isn’t necessarily a popular pastime of people in the present, partly because it’s an expensive venture to the theater, and partly because of this portrayal of an outdated, boring experience.  My previous, and very limited knowledge of the opera derived from dumb kid’s cartoons where a bunch of boring adults sat and listened to someone sing in some ridiculous costume, and Marie Antoinette (Sophia Coppola’s 2004 film).  Again, not unlike many others in my generation, the opera seemed like a boring thing for old people to do, and as a result, I was not particularly looking forward to sitting for 3+ hours for the opera.  Teju Cole brings up a similar point, where often times, what is shown to the public aligns with a general notion about something, whether it’s the charm of an old Indian village, or the opera, but this image doesn’t always necessarily portray the reality.

In the past, I’ve been to Lincoln Center for many ballets with my grandmother, which I enjoyed a lot, particularly because I appreciated the talent and technique and refined dance abilities due to my own dance background. This gave me high hopes for the opera, despite my expectations.  I knew that going to this theater was a big deal, so I thought, “How bad could it be?”

Upon arrival, the crowd consisted of mostly of well-dressed, older people, and our class. There were some younger people, children, and middle aged people, but it was still predominantly elderly attendees. This only confirmed what I previously thought about the opera. Before the opera actually began, there was a strange presentation with sheep and handlers as people were still being seated, which again, only added to my lack of excitement and confusion towards opera.

Once it began, the first surprising thing was that it was in English.  It became clear that the opera has changed, and though it is still very much a facet of European culture, it cemented itself in America.  There were no ridiculous costumes (other than the bear costume), and though the opera isn’t my new favorite thing to do, it wasn’t exactly like what I thought it was based on the media.

Another part of my opera experience that changed my perspective was that I  went with peers, as opposed to by myself, or with older people as a pastime.  The opera was still boring for me, and confusing, and I didn’t particularly enjoy the singing, but I recognize it as a part of culture, and as a performance art form. However, despite this, it isn’t just the opera, it is also a memory that I share with my classmates, which makes the opera part of my experience. 

The Met Opera

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I’m not an avid theater-goer, but I have gone to my fair share of shows and musicals, along with assisting in all of the productions that took place throughout my four years of high school. But I have never been to an opera. In my mind I imagined some woman singing really loudly in Italian, and maybe she would have a fellow actor on stage, but that was not at all what happened.

In addition to the woman singing loudly (to perhaps a bunch of old people) in Italian, I had always imagined people with gold binoculars with the little sticks on the end and speaking in a really posh voice. I was not entirely let down. As I was looking around, I noticed a man in the row in front of mine already using the binoculars he had brought for the show!

I took this picture because I liked the aspect of candidness that were in almost all of Singh’s photographs. I don’t know if the subjects knew they were being taken pictures of and then they continued with their lives, or if Singh simply took the pictures, but most of them seemed to show the subjects of his pictures doing things as they were, much like how this man was simply getting ready for the show.

This is a picture describes what I actually saw at the opera. There were so many things that I did not know were actually a part of the opera. For example, there was an orchestra, many more actors than I had anticipated, and an actual a storyline behind the entire show. It was certainly not what I was expecting, considering the fact that there were sheep and a “bear”, but I found that I actually enjoyed some aspects of the opera. The plot seemed to be interesting, and the orchestra was phenomenal. However, I did not like how every single word was sung, because it made things hard to understand, and switching between the subtitles (although they were much appreciated) and actually watching the show made the show confusing and difficult to keep track of who was actually singing. In general, I enjoyed my time there, but I do not think that I would watch another opera again.

Fur Coats, Velvet Walls, and Angels, Oh My!

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Fur coats. Elderly attendees, or at least middle-aged. White people in fancy suits and evening gowns, with those long cigarette holders that Cruella de Vil had. These are things I think of when I hear, “Let’s go to the opera!” That and, “Oh, great, singing I won’t be able to understand in a language I don’t know with an overly dramatic plot that makes no sense and brings my life no joy.” These, I suppose, would be my “previous prejudices” against the opera. Much like those who enjoy Steve McCurry’s work, I was quick to fall back on my made up ideals from movies/history class/my opera-singing vocal teacher about operas and those who attend them, rather than keeping an open mind about its reality.

The first thing I noticed was how underdressed I was in ripped, blue super skinny jeans and my navy-blue John Jay hoodie. Second, I couldn’t help but notice the hilarious caricature of the foundation of American society: minority staff in fancy tuxedo suits servicing old, white people. Third, the Met, as one would expect, is incredibly fancy! The chandeliers dangling from the ceilings were (almost literally) an explosion of light. Everywhere you looked there was red velvet; it covered the walls, floors, stairs, and seats. Oh goodness, those seats were comfortable. If the show hadn’t been so bizarre, I think I might have fallen asleep. Although I’ve imagined going to the Metropolitan Opera House and walked by it several times, I cannot deny that imagining it and experiencing it were two very separate experiences.

The opera itself was simply bizarre and I still think it may have been one of the most ridiculous plots I’ve ever encountered. Needless to say, I felt comfort in the validation of at least one of my prior imaginings. The Exterminating Angel, from what I could tell, was about a group of friends with good economic/social standing that get trapped in a room by an omnipotent force. No matter what they did, they could not leave the room and soon they began to feel the effects of starvation. My classmates and I discussed the effects of attempts to leave the room during intermission, I couldn’t understand what it was that was exactly keeping them in the room. Was it an invisible force field? Was it some sort of mental manipulation by the omnipotent being? Did they get sick or hurt when they tried to leave? I found myself very confused about the subject afterward.

However, intermission made me take a step back to look around at the Met in its true form, with all of its audience spilled onto the velvet floors and rushing to get to the bathroom. As I stood in the balcony area after I finished “powdering my nose” (I’d been urged to run to the bathroom right as intermission started by a very clever D.K.), I took the chance to really open my eyes and look around. A lot of attendees, I found, were not, in fact, as I’d imagined.

Although a lot of them were middle-aged, audience members ranged from young children with their families to established 30-somethings on a fancy anniversary date to grandmothers in town to visit their sons/daughters and grandchildren. Many of them were not dressed in evening gowns or fancy tuxedos, but they were wearing nice clothes. They looked like “the best version” of themselves, as my old musical theater teacher would say.There was nothing notably snooty about anyone, they were all just normal people (most of them did turn out to be white), out to enjoy a pleasant evening at the opera in New York City.

And as I kept looking around, I realized: regardless of how fancy and renowned the occasion, everyone still has to wait in a line to use the bathroom.

Exterminating Angel Experience

Frankie Morel

 

      

When I first stepped into the Metropolitan Opera, I thought I was some stranger because I came in a hoodie, a vest, cargo pants, and sneakers, and most of the people around me were semi-formal. However, there were a few people that were wearing jeans and sneakers, so I kind of felt okay. As for the performance itself, I thought it was not that bad because there were some parts of it that I found a little humorous, but it could have been better. During the first two acts of the play, I did not really understand what they were saying simply because I did not have the subtitles on. I understood the whole play, but I would not say that I really liked it because operas are not really my thing.

As for the pictures, the one with the bear at the middle of the stage represents my previous prejudice of operas. I first thought that operas were really boring because I have always had the imagination that people were just going to sing about whatever. However, the fact that this opera had a bear as one of its characters made it a little more interesting. It was almost as if it was an opera and a play at the same time.

In his essay, Cole explained that Singh’s photographs included “the subcontinental terrain, the eyepopping color,” and “the human presence,” which is why I chose the other photo. This was the beginning of the third and final act, in which the townspeople gathered around the house and the little boy was called on by the officers because his parents were locked inside. At that moment, the stage itself was very colorful, as if it was a show on Broadway, and the fact that the townspeople surrounded the house highlights the “human presence.”

Teju Cole Blog

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Initially, I saw the opera as a cultural experience outside of my grasp, mainly due to how I do not generally find importance of the arts within my own life. With a preconceived notion of an older gentry based audience members based on cartoons I watched when I was younger, I had little to no idea of what to fully expect from the experience. Easy to say I dragged my feet thinking it would be boring, but I attempted to have an open mind when initially entering the building. Though my parents feel performances like the such are beautiful and immersive, there was no change in the fact that I was fearful of the worst. With a short attention span, could I find it interesting?

When stepping foot into the building, the decorations seemed overtly fancy and that allowed me to give into my pre-judgements subconsciously. Of course, I did not let that spoil the experience before it had occurred, so I held my thoughts. When sitting, sheep were brought onto the stage and held for some reason. Facing some irritation, I did realize that one of the sheep was erratic and seemed stressed by the experience, but I held my thoughts…for the most part. Overall, the performance took some getting used to. I did not fully understand what each person was saying (thankfully there were subtitles) as well as not understanding where the plot started or ended. That is just my being nit picky, but I was kind of lost through the whole show. To my guess, it may have just been me rather than the show with the issue, but can never be too sure. I do believe, however, that if an individual has a passion for the arts or cultural institutions of the city, the opera would be an excellent place to start. There are so many questions to ask and the show seemed to give the audience freedom of interpretation. The opera was different than my initial prejudice, but it was still not to my complete liking, especially since I have yet to obtain a proper understanding of how to properly appreciate the art form to its fullest.

My Opera Experience

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Before stepping foot into the Metropolitan Opera, I had slight reservations due to preconceived opinions of the ongoings in the place. I imagined well-dressed adults and pretentious rich folk, vying for the most expensive seats and for the respect of those around them.I pictured freshly manicured nails, and freshly pressed suit pants. These reservations were not a deterrent for me, though. I actually thought it would be quite interesting to “step into someone else’s shoes” and pretend to be like those that were not there to complete an assignment for class, but were there out of pure appreciation for the art. Plus, I’m always on board with opportunities to play dress-up. To my surprise, it seemed that a good amount of people (at least in our section, with the cheaper seats) had the same idea. Each floor I walked up, the crowd seemed to ease up on the pretension, and people seemed to be enjoying themselves more and more. The dress code shifted as well, and lightened up along with the overall mood. Average, middle-class, young, and with smiles on their faces, people chattered joyfully amongst themselves. Some seized the opportunity to “play dress-up” (like I had), in dresses and blazers, others donned jeans and hoodies. They posed for selfies with their friends, awkwardly flirted with their dates, and most importantly, actually seemed to be having a good time. To my own surprise, I felt at ease among the crowd, and like less of an outsider looking in. At this point, I forgot that I was even supposed to be observing the scene, because I felt that I was a part of it.
My first picture is one of the advertisement on the backside of the program. A big, shiny Rolex. That definitely played into my original doubts about the opera, and who it’s true audience might be.
The second picture features a young woman having her picture taken by a friend, smiling from ear to ear. Her genuine excitement seemed contagious, and she seemed to be enjoying playing the role. She didn’t seem the least bit pretentious or judgemental. This picture drew inspiration from Teju Cole in its capturing of an everyday person in an everyday moment, now sealed to look back and reflect upon. Nothing feels staged, even though she’s posing for someone else’s photograph.
As for the opera itself, I found it pretty easy to follow, especially given the subtitles on the monitor in front of each seat. Even though part of the stage was blocked from the seat I was in, I would actually choose to purchase those “nosebleed” seats again. From my seat, I was right above the orchestra. Personally, I had just as much fun watching the conductor wave his hands and flip his music sheets as I had watching the opera itself. If I turned around, I could see the lighting crew perched up in their secret hole in the ceiling. I felt as though I was getting a unique glimpse of the inner-workings of the opera that even those that paid hundreds of dollars for their seats could not experience.
All in all, I enjoyed and appreciated the Metropolitan Opera more that I could have anticipated. Did my preconceived opinions hold up? Yes, they did, to a large degree. But that said, the opera is accessible to a broad spectrum of individuals, and is often overlooked as such. Plus, it can also be seen as an opportunity to let loose and enjoy a night out with friends.

Teju Cole Blog Post

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In his essay. Cole explains how Singh’s photographs represents photos without a prejudice, and truly show life in its purest form.  In some of his photos, especially “Television Set” and “Village Bus Stop”, he focuses on something physically close to him, while simultaneously making sure that, although not the main focus, the background is not completely lost.  I used these photos as inspiration for my second photo, where I focused on the subtitles but allowed the stage in the background to still play a part in the photo.  My first photo represents my prior prejudices toward the opera, because I tried to show the way that I saw opera goers. I imagined very high class people, who truly knew what the opera was all about, and could engage in very academic conversations about the show.  I also had the prior prejudice that the opera would not cater to people who did not understand it, or had a difficult tie following what are usually very complicated stories.  My second photo represents my actual experience, where I realized that the Metropolitan Opera wanted everyone to be able to understand what is being portrayed on stage, and to have the best experience possible without losing any part of the show do to misunderstanding or confusion.  I felt that by providing subtitles, the opera became more accessible to those who could not engage in academic discussions about the opera, and needed some assistance in fully understanding it.

Despite the fact that I came to discover that the Opera is much more accessible than I had originally thought, I still did not particularly enjoy the show.  I did understand it, and I grasped the meaning behind it, but I did not like the fact that I was watching something in English and I still had to read English subtitles to understand what they were saying.  I also thought that there was too much happening at one time during the show.  I would attend another opera because I do want to enjoy it, however, I did not enjoy The Exterminating Angel.