Opera and conversation

Last night, I attended an opera. I saw The Pearl Fishers by Bizet. It was a joint production by the National Performing Arts Center of China and the Berlin Opera. The production was just okay, but the principal soprano was wonderful, the chorus fantastic, and the orchestra delightful. The designers used projections and almost no set. The projections were sort of strange. One person behind me actually laughed when they first appeared. I would describe them as bizarrely cartoonish. Very odd choice. Anyway, back to the music.

Those of you who know me will not be surprised to learn that I had a conversation with the young man sitting next to me last night at the opera. We chatted for a few moments before the opera began. We exchanged a few basic niceties, “Hello.” “Have you seen this opera before?” “I have seen Carmen, but not this one.” Because I like to ask people questions, it was a good way to spend the time waiting for the opening notes. He was willing to go along.

During the opera, though, I noticed him conducting silently from his seat. It was almost as if he couldn’t resist. He was so moved by the music that it seemed almost involuntary. It’s something my husband does, so I thought maybe the young man was also a musician. During intermission, I asked him about his musical background. I learned several things from this exchange, and they seem important to share.

My conversation partner for the evening is not a musician. In fact, although he didn’t tell me what he does for a living, he told me that “opera is very far away” from what he does at work. He said that he attends symphony concerts and operas as a way to leave his everyday life and to “be a full person.” I am not sure exactly what he meant, but I took it to mean that the music filled a space in his life that needed filling. I mentioned that he appeared to be familiar with the music and he told me that before coming to a performance, he listens to the music and reads about the opera. The opera productions are generally about three to four weeks apart. He studies the opera in that time because it makes him happy. I asked if he has any favorite operas. “No. I like old and new operas. Even if the story is not the same as our life, some things are the same. Friendship and love. They are the same.”

Although the story within The Pearl Fishers seemed worn, even tired, to me, it seems always relevant to remember that we can be connected through music, friendship, and love. It is healthy to find a hobby distinct from our professional lives—reading, sports, crafting, music—that makes us happy. I appreciate my drafted conversation partner for reminding me. I needed that. 

Curtain call