Life, like thumbing through a Scrapbook

"the action is moved from 16th-century Mantua
to Rat Pack–era Las Vegas,
suffusing an already sinful story with additional seedy resonance"

metopera.org

I watched Rigoletto last night.

I was surprised that I hadn’t seen Michael Mayer’s Las Vegas setting until about 10 minutes had passed, and then I realized I had seen the show back in 2013 when it was filmed with Diana Damrau as Gilda and Piotr Beozala as the Duke.

I have to say I quite enjoyed the modern day characterizations painted on the characters of Victor Hugo’s play, and of course, Verdi’s music – character allusions to Frank Sinatra, Marilyn Monroe, Dean Martin and Don Rickles, to start with.

Loved the last act allusion to Crime and Punishment.

 When I talk to my friends, like Fazeela, I find that she, too, has been listening to the opera.

Neither of us every night, though I try to get in a few minutes at the very least and often can’t make myself move away once I hear a few notes – as happened last night. I kept saying to myself, this can’t possibly be my favourite opera, with another voice saying, yes, yes, listen to how beautiful it is.  Just say it is your favourite.  You have many favouites!

I am going to watch Verdi’s four act biblical narrative, Nabucco tonight – nice for anyone trying to keep the Sabbath Day holy. Choral music and the opera that brought Verdi to his fame.  And keeping the Sabbath Day holy, all in one.

I still am not to the point of what I want to say. That is, watching opera every night and knowing that since before 2013, I have been going to the theatres to watch these shows, about two a month, makes me feel as though I am revisiting my past in a big scrap book, turning one page a day, each page opening up a diorama of a beloved-to-me opera.

Arta