Opera

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Don Giovanni was an extreme pleasure to watch for the second time, as I already knew the lyrics and I had seen it in 8th grade. I think this opera was definitely a tragedy because although it contained elements of comedy here and there, it ended with the main character falling into Hell. Act II especially was submerged into this very dark tone of death and fate, which definitely out-shadowed the comedy. I also believe the biggest contribution to this tragic attribute was the moral within this story, which is that no one cannot simply abuse of others without paying for it, and the protagonist learned it on his own skin. Another important theme in the Don Giovanni was social classes. Class differences were very noticeable and well portrayed in the performance: both the costume choices and the way the actors behaved when confronted with each other reflected their social status and gave a sense of who had the power. Especially when Masetto and Don Giovanni had encounters one could really see the power-abusing manners of the noble class as compared to the zealous and humble lower-class.

The music contributed to the story in the sense that it set the tone of a scene before anything happened. One could already tell what kind of actions were going to take place just by listening to an allegro or a moderato; the different tempos really gave me hints about the happenings. The music also contributed to the understanding of the relationship between the characters as, for example, in love scenes the music would slow down to a dreamy game of notes.

Opera, to me, is one of the most articulated and noble of all art performances. As I was watching Don Giovanni I could not stop wondering how long it took to put such thing together, how much talent, creativity and genius was put into it. Opera must be one of the most well-rounded forms of performance out there, as it incorporates dance, acting, singing and music composition. I believe it must be preserved as precious treasure and harmony of different art fields.

 

Sara Camnasio

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About Sara Camnasio

I'm Sara, yes Sara without the H. I was born in an anonymous town in the middle of nowhere, in the industrial Northern Italy. I grew up with my fingers sticky from pasta dough and my face powdered with flour, helping my grandmother to make the most loved meals in the world. I was tossed in my grandma's arms at age 4—when my parents divorced—and I lived a spoon-fed life until I was 8, when I moved with my father and his new wife to what would have become my hometown. Bosisio Parini—a name that barely appears on any map—was the place I spent most of my life in: two-thousand people, three churches, and the lake, puddle of memories. But despite its stunning beauty, that limiting environment granted no future for us. So I had to jump, take the biggest leap of my life: on the 22nd of December 2009 I moved to the Big Apple with my mother and sister, leaving my dad to Italy to support us financially. I was thrown in the illogical world of slang and French fries, but somehow—fantastically—I managed to become part of it without gaining fifty pounds. I may speak with my hands, but I swear one can barely hear my accent. I feel more American than ever, although I'll never forget my origins; that little village—to me—is that one place where you feel like you left your anchor. I mean—would have been a pretty heavy load to carry overseas, all the way to New York city.