afternoon at l'Opéra

This afternoon the Tours Opera opened its theatre doors to the public. Since I have this weekend unexpectedly free (long story), I decided to go for the dress rehearsal of the staging of their season-opener, Thaïs. I wasn't familiar with this opera, but here's what I gathered today in terms of synopsis:

Thaïs tells the story of a young woman who, while mourning the loss of a beloved friend at a cocktail party, decides to become a nun. In fact, she is persuaded to do so by a quick-tempered monk, and to the great chagrin of her wild, party-going, flamboyantly dressed compatriots, she walks off with him to the monastery. Although the woman bids him adieu (literally) as she begins her life of celibacy, the monk falls so tumultuously in love with her that he seeks her out at the garbage dump where the nuns worship. (She had warned him personally of her impending death in a sexy dream sequence.) He arrives just in time for a richly layered duet before the woman, claiming to glimpse heaven, dies in his arms on a pile of trash.

And that was only Act II, and there's still another act left!

Other things made it an enjoyable experience. As it was a rehearsal, the "metteur-en-scène" would stop the steadily-mounting action quite abruptly to fix things here or there. At the end uproarious end of the first song, the main character yanked down a curtain of strings that hung across the stage. While she was untangling the strings from her costume, the director shouted out from the house, "In the silence, Thaïs, don't pull it down during the music." The soloist apologized: "I beg your pardon, I just always get taken by the rhythm."

The curtain of strings was in fact a very beautiful touch to the scenery at the beginning of the second act. While the light white cords allowed a projection of a recently deceased character, with a mourner grieving just behind, they also moved me to reflect on the transient nature of life and the thin veil that separates our world from the next. Rich, tender chords from an unseen chorus complemented this concept in a touching way. Yes, the acting was awful (it's opera), but I am stunned by the design concepts that the opera has at its disposal.

After the rehearsal, there was an échange, a Q & A session. I was pleased to see even the diva soloist stayed to answer audience questions. And everyone on the staff had a very charming sense of humor. They all seemed to really believe in their craft. The staging director said something funny when talking about the authoritarian nature of her job. She explained that they don't have the luxury of time that theatre possesses, so they can't explore alternatives. She just gives blocking, "and if a soloist opposes me, it will cost them dearly." I don't know what she means by that, but the audience applauded her comment.

So my new ambition in life is to do vocal training and enter the world opera. It won't be the last time I change vocation.