Opera: A Love Story

After the opera-blogging I did over the last two VOA seasons, I’ll admit it’s been a relief, this month and last, simply to settle in next to my husband and enjoy the opera. But even though it means stealing time from my paid work (oh, what a mountain of marking I’m facing this week — and I’m trying to finish two proposals for papers to be published or presented), I do like to spread the word about the exciting entertainment staged by the VOA at Vancouver’s Queen Elizabeth theatre.

So here’s a brief description of our experience at Saturday’s opening-night Vancouver Opera Association performance of Gounod’sRoméo et Juliette:

Settling into my seat as last-minute ticket-holders are seated, I enjoy the ritual of dimming lights, the various tuning efforts of diverse instruments gradually vibrating into silence, the audience’s murmurs getting quieter, the light that marks the conductor’s entrance in the orchestra pit just in front of, and below, the stage. The applause that greets him is amplified by his acknowledgment of his orchestra as we include them in our tribute. Then a collective breath-holding, a hush, as the conductor’s baton slices through the air, launching the evening’s musical entertainment.

Always, as I am attending closely to the overture, whether recognizing well-known themes or analyzing ones new to me, my ears are distracted by the demands on my eyes as the curtain rises to reveal the wonders of the stage set. Perhaps because Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette presented me with the luxurious combination of a story I know well (doesn’t everyone?) with music about to be discovered, I was especially aware of the phenomena involved in watching an opera.

Beyond the appreciation of the opening rituals, I noticed my delight at the stage set of this production of Roméo et Juliette. Along with the sumptuous costumes, the set hails from Utah (one of the rewards of my previous opera-blogging was going backstage and learning more about the business of building, getting, lending, and transporting the various material demands that go into opera design construction — I miss that!),  Elaborately detailed, its balconies, pillars, and pleasing Classical symmetries offer a satisfying background. Its drama is heightened by the “mist” that wreathes the stage as the curtain rises to a choral prologue laying out the historical background while a lively brawl signals the long-simmering, murderous feud between the Montagues and the Capulets.

As Juliette, Vancouver soprano Simone Osborne, playing to a home crowd after considerable national and  international acclaim, held our attention immediately. Even before she began singing, she captured a 13-year old’s physicality convincingly enough that one could almost sense a collective calculation: could a singer so young be on stage, working as a professional? Osborne’s acting was most amusingly effective as she parries the amorous advances of the much older Paris, intended by her family as a “good catch of a match” for her. And then with the delightful “Je veux vivre,” Juliette’s waltz aria, I was smitten as, of course, very soon was Roméo.

There were numerous other convincing performers, particularly Julie Boulianne as Stéphano and Peter Volpe as Frère Laurent. As well, I was interested to see the adaptations that librettists Jules Barbier and Michel Carré made to Shakespeare’s play. I found the staging of Juliette’s deliberation over the risks of Frère Laurent’s plan very effective, but wondered at the logistic risks implicit in having her collapse at the wedding scene rather than be discovered, supposedly dead, in her bed (not risks to the staging, but rather, riskiness of Juliette’s plan around the poison’s timing).  From an opera-lover’s perspective, the librettists’ decision to have Juliette awake while Roméo is still conscious allows for a very satisfying, albeit heart-tuggingly sad, musical moment.

Consider grabbing tickets for Thursday’s or Saturday’s performances (and I quickly assure you that I receive no compensation from VOA for singing their praises, and that we pay for our own season’s tickets, as we have for 5 or 6 years).  Let me know what you think.

Oh, and if you’re wondering what I wore, I’ll admit that I trotted out this dress yet again, with slightly different accessories.

Next post: Where we ate before the opera, haute cuisine at bargain prices in Vancouver