Friday evening we went to see Madame Butterfly at the Sydney Opera House. When we were in Vienna, we didn’t have a chance to go to the opera; the season had ended. Here, there’s apparently no end to the season, although it’s continually sold out. It was a very fulfilling experience.
What we learned is that everybody’s got problems. Some people drink. In Opera, they sing about them. The story is about a sleezy American sailor who buys a wife in Japan, allows her to believe he’s going to take her back to the US and then sails off on his ship. Instead, he comes back 3 years later not knowing that he’s fathered a son, and bringing his American wife. They take the child, the Japanese wife kills herself.
The set was very minimalist – a flat wooden parquet floor surrounded by a water-filled mote. There are 3 bridges from the sides at 9, 12 and 3 o’clock. White screens are used around the sides to expose or hide persons as they enter and exit. Interestingly enough, there were about 5 people dressed in white, kind of like mummies, who you weren’t supposed to notice. They moved things around on the stage. There really weren’t many props – at 5:00 on the stage there was a small platform that matched the flooring – think low coffee table and you’ve got it. Other than that, there were a few pillows, a couple of flags, some little hand props – oh, and a hari kari dagger.
Programs for Opera aren’t like the playbills in New York. It’s a single page, of which the back is a corporate advertisement. You do get a pretty good description of the action, though, and they list the characters in order of appearance. This is immensely helpful for those of us who's Italian is a bit rusty.
There’s a great deal of formality in the bows at the end of the performance, too. First, the Diva takes a bow alone, then she leaves and the minor characters come back, least important to the most. Finally the male lead comes (i.e. the “big fat opera singer”), then the orchestra conductor, then the female lead comes back out. There was a little kid in this who had a nonspeaking part, and he was joined in there, but I think that was just because he’s a cute little kid.
After all that, people then leave the stage and you keep clapping as they go out in reverse order. All in all, you’re clapping for a solid 10 minutes.
There’s no dress code for the opera. During the tour we took earlier in the day, the guide was quick to point that out. As a result, there was a mix of everything from elegant eveningwear (i.e. tux and long gowns) to shorts and flip-flops. The one thing that the ushers were adamant about was not taking photographs. Some people (not us) just had to take a quick pic, and they were promptly given a verbal warning to stop.
Overall, it was a great experience. I mean – it was Madame Butterfly at the Sydney Opera House – that’s something you’d tell your grandchildren about. On another level, though, the Opera is a lot like a colonoscopy. It’s appreciated, if not exactly enjoyed, by those who are well over 40. And, like that procedure, sometimes you’re relieved when it’s finally over. Everyone should do it occasionally, just for the cultural inoculation if nothing else.
Don’t get me wrong, it was beautiful, and the performances were excellent. But two hours and 45 minutes of Italian yodeling is a bit of a stretch in the enjoyment arena for some of us. If it weren’t for the fact that you could read the surtitles above the stage, I’d have been completely lost on what was happening after the first 15 minutes.
When we got out, about 10:30, it was raining harder than it has since we got here, which is saying a lot – it’s been an off and on downpour since we got here, and the weather forecast isn’t improving through the weekend – they’ve issued flood watches in some locations around Sydney.
Bottom line.....very glad we saw Mdm Butterfly. It's raining...big deal.....$5 umbrellas suffice. We're having a great time.
