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I was a leaf for the Chorale Halloween party. Leaf shirt, leaf pants, draped leafy shawl around my waist, leaf in my hair, leafy doodles all the way up my arm, leaf (except Egyptian-- think Cambridge eye doodling) eyelid watercolor pencils, barefoot. It was cool. And then I toned it down a tiny bit and went to the opera in it.
Which was extremely good. It's the same production they did five or six years ago when I was in middle school, the first HGO opera I saw. Cio-cio-san was tremendous, and deserved her immediate standing ovation. The three-year-old was also quite stellar. Everyone else was good. It's such a needlessly tragic story, which is what makes the needlessly sappy music so effective. I'm not a big fan of the ever-doubling Puccini string octaves, but I'll admit it's effective when it's done well. The most memorable moment, once again, was the suicide, at which the HUGE blood-crimson sheet dropped so that it draped the whole space of the stage behind her and more flowers fell. That is the reddest red that ever was red. The color alone would draw tears, let alone the culmination of the melodramatic plot, and then the kid runs in with his dad and is so oblivious. Ergh.
This one was not nearly as discouraging to my creative force, partially because I know I can do better than double the voices with low strings all the time and high strings half the time. Puccini was not a genius, he was a pop star. But it's worthwhile pop. I can do at least that.
Which was extremely good. It's the same production they did five or six years ago when I was in middle school, the first HGO opera I saw. Cio-cio-san was tremendous, and deserved her immediate standing ovation. The three-year-old was also quite stellar. Everyone else was good. It's such a needlessly tragic story, which is what makes the needlessly sappy music so effective. I'm not a big fan of the ever-doubling Puccini string octaves, but I'll admit it's effective when it's done well. The most memorable moment, once again, was the suicide, at which the HUGE blood-crimson sheet dropped so that it draped the whole space of the stage behind her and more flowers fell. That is the reddest red that ever was red. The color alone would draw tears, let alone the culmination of the melodramatic plot, and then the kid runs in with his dad and is so oblivious. Ergh.
This one was not nearly as discouraging to my creative force, partially because I know I can do better than double the voices with low strings all the time and high strings half the time. Puccini was not a genius, he was a pop star. But it's worthwhile pop. I can do at least that.
From: (Anonymous)
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