Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Justine Goes to the Opera

Monday 02 March

This is the story of a music-maker/music-teacher/music-lover and her attempt at unfathoming the murky depths of Hungarian opera. Let’s call her Justine.

Justine was on one of those touristy hop on – hop off buses in Budapest, Hungary. As the bus went past the National Opera House, Justine saw a sign saying “Barber of Seville”. Assuming that meant that Rossini’s opera, “The Barber of Seville” was being performed at the Opera House, Justine went back after the bus tour to buy a ticket.

The following is an account of what happened next:

Fortunately: Justine manages to find the right metro stop to the Opera House.

Unfortunately: Justine goes to the wrong door.

Fortunately: Justine finds the right door.

Unfortunately: Justine doesn’t know how to ask for a ticket to “The Barber of Seville” in Hungarian.

Fortunately: The ticket-seller speaks English.

Unfortunately: “The Barber of Seville” isn’t on that night.

Fortunately: “Eugen Onegin”, the opera by Tchaikovsky is on. Justine buys a ticket and enters the theatre.

Unfortunately: Justine goes the wrong way into the theatre and instead of finding herself in the main auditorium, she finds herself upstairs in the private boxes. Justine finds herself shoo-ed away by a grumpy usher.

Fortunately: Justine finds a nice usher and her correct seat.

Unfortunately: Justine’s seat is behind the man who has the biggest head in the world.

Fortunately: Justine can see some spare seats. She decides to move as soon as the house lights go down.

Unfortunately: The spare seats fill up.

Fortunately: The orchestra starts tuning, the house lights dim, the conductor enters, the curtain rises. Justine settles down to watch the opera.

Unfortunately: Justine realises she doesn’t know what the opera is about. She meant to google it, but forgot.

Fortunately: Justine figures she’s smart. How hard can it be?

Unfortunately: The singing starts. It’s in Russian.

Fortunately: There are subtitles.

Unfortunately: The subtitles are in Hungarian.

Fortunately: Justine has learned some Hungarian.

Unfortunately: The words for ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’, ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ are hardly likely to be in the opera. At least not so much as to aid understanding of the plot.

Fortunately: There are lots of pretty lights, an intriguing set and male chorus members with no shirts to keep Justine distracted.


However, they don’t distract Justine for long. Soon after curtain up, Justine starts wondering about the plot of “Eugen Onegin”. The following are the key points from the opera as understood by Justine (it may hold true for other productions of the same opera, I don’t know).


Act I:


Lady in White and Lady in Red float through the air singing, while two other ladies in red throw something into a tub (laundry/grapes/dirt?).

The chorus enters, wearing green, performing a Balkan version of the box-step. The men look highly uncomfortable. The chorus leaves.

Amid the excitement of the Balkan box-step the bassoons forget the importance of intonation.

The man in front of Justine (the one with the unusually large head) keeps moving. Justine considers decapitation.

Two men enter, stage left. Both look like a Miami Vice-era Don Johnson. One is wearing white. One is wearing red.

The men sing with their corresponding colour-coded ladies. Lady in Red and Man in Red sing to each other. Lady in White and Man in White ignore each other.

The man sitting next to Justine falls asleep and starts to snore. Justine considers kicking him.

Men in Red and White leave the stage. Lady in White has argument with dirt throwing lady in red.

Beautiful oboe solo.

Lady in White keeps singing. Justine wonders if she’s going to let anyone else have a turn.

Man in White enters. They kiss while twirling across the stage. Justine’s level of excitement picks up as she wonders if they’ll fall off.

They don’t. Justine experiences mild feeling of disappointment.

Man in White leaves.

The snoring man wakes up. Looks at his watch. He will continue to do this at a regular interval until the interval.

Lady in White rushes around the stage waving a long black cloak. Perhaps symbolising light/dark, good/evil, pure/impure, confusion/utter bewilderment. Oh no, that last one’s Justine.

Lady in White keeps singing, then jumps off the stage, covering herself in the black cloak.

Audience starts applauding, thinking it’s the interval. They’ve been thinking about getting an icecream for the last 20 minutes.

Lady in White comes back on stage and keeps on singing. An old man a few rows ahead of Justine leaves anyway. “Bugger this”, he’s thinking. “I want my icecream”.

Lady in White is still singing. The women of the chorus come on and perform a complicated Tyrolean folk dance while pelting the Lady in White with Malteasers.

Justine is confused. And judging by the fidgeting, whispering and coughing, so is the rest of the audience.

The men of the chorus enter and pelt the Lady in White with Malteasers.


CURTAIN


During the interval Justine ponders the significance of the colour scheme. What does it represent? Hungary? No, that would be too easy. Mexico? Candy canes?


Act II – highlights:


Begins with a famous tune. Finally.

The chorus are now in red. They look like red blood cells in a bad biology video.

The Lady in White is now the Lady in Green. The Man in White looks like John Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever”.

The Man in White dances with the Lady in Red (who has exchanged her red PVC dress of Act I for a funky red ensemble including fur leg-warmers). They run away together.

A Man in Black enters and offers the Lady in Green a black rose. She just stands there. He then runs away.

Someone behind Justine unwraps a lolly. Justine thinks of Jared and considers punching said patron. Justine is developing “opera rage”.

Chorus performs the Balkan box-step combined with that game we used to play as kids: “wash the dishes, dry the dishes, turn the dishes over”.

The dirt throwing lady in red comes out with a birthday cake.

The trumpets momentarily forget the key signature. The man beside Justine is awake again.

Glitter falls on the Man in Red.

Justine can’t see what happens next because of the enlarged cranium in front of her. But she does glean from the subtitles that the Man in White says ‘no’.

The orchestra starts to get agitated. Something’s about to happen. The brass play a loud bit (I bet they’ve been saving that up all night).

The Man in White shoots the Man in Red.


CURTAIN


During this interval Justine reflects on the wisdom of attending such events whilst backpacking. Looking at the other members of the audience, Justine is easily the worst dressed person in the auditorium. She looks like a hobo. And, after a day’s sight-seeing without returning to her hostel for a shower, Justine also smells like a hobo.


Act III (highlights):


The chorus are now in sparkly gold outfits. The men, in particular, look they were dressed by C3PO.

The chorus do a dance. One man goes the wrong way. Great chaos ensues on stage. Great hilarity for the audience.

The Man in White suddenly appears in the middle of the dancers. As does the two dirt-throwing ladies, the rose-giving Man in Black, the Lady in Red and the Man in Red. Justine is confused. Didn’t he die?

The Lady in Green is now the Lady in Black. She enters with an Old Man in White. He looks very familiar to Justine. Justine suddenly craves KFC.

Colonel Sanders sings a famous aria. It has the word ‘no’ in to. Also ‘yes’.

The man beside Justine starts snoring again. This time, loudly. People from two rows in front turn around.

Lady in Black mopes a bit. Sings. Man in White comes back. They sing together. They fall to their knees. Still singing. All very passionate.

Man in White dies.

A light from the set falls down and starts swinging. Justine isn’t sure if this is intentional.


CURTAIN

No comments: