Monday, August 1, 2011

A Night at the Opera: An Italian Adventure

I promised my friend Angela that the opera would be an experience she wouldn’t forget, and this came true in ways even I couldn’t imagine.

The adventure began as soon as we arrived at the parking garage, especially as we were trying to get a minivan into a made-for-a-compact-car parking space. Angela’s sister-in-law Lisa gave helpful advice like “a little more forward, no, no, now back up, stop! Now, go forward, slowly, slowly, now back up, turn the wheel all the way that way, now forward again, turn the wheel the other way...and....there!” When we felt we could breathe again, we piled out of the minivan and were off.
Of course, a night at the opera must include dinner. So I took them to our favorite place, a hole in the wall (no, really, it’s built into the old city wall...) I ordered my dinner of chicken and fried potatoes in perfect...Spanish. Surprisingly, the waiter asked for clarification in German. “Papas fritas? Pomme fritz? Ah...patate fritte.” You would think I would know these words after six years in Italy. Or that I would order something easy like “lasagna.” 
Once we finished dinner we picked up Angela’s and Lisa’s tickets--sadly in a different section from ours--and found our seats. The Arena where the Opera is staged is a 2,000 years old stone amphitheater.  It looks very much like the one in Rome, only smaller. There are expensive seats--actual chairs set out--on the floor, where the rich people sit.  My daughter’s favorite part of the evening is watching the ladies in fancy dresses come in, especially if she can find someone we saw standing outside. Our seats, on the other hand, are the stone tiers of the amphitheater. Most evenings the stone is warm from the sun which is nice, but sitting on marble for 4 hours is not the most comfy thing in the world (we bring cushions). Angela and Lisa were seated on the other side of the Arena. “Where are they, Mom?” my daughter kept asking. We sent text messages back and forth, Angela eventually waving her lighter and me my phone so we could find each other. 
Since this is held in an outdoor venue, the show begins at 9 PM. The strains of Verdi fill the sold-out Arena, telling the story of Aida, a slave in Egypt. She is in love with Radames, a captain in the Egyptian army; of course, they have to keep their love a secret. Radames goes off to war and Aida’s mistress finds her weeping--the secret is out. Whether there were 500 people or 5 people on stage, we were never bored. 
At the end of the first act, the lights went out, as was expected, and people began to stand up and stretch. Stagehands with flashlights came out and began moving set pieces, and actors came back out on the stage. I was confused, since all this was happening in the relative darkness. Suddenly, bright blue lights flooded the stage and the ballet began. It was fabulous, even more so because it was unexpected. The triumphal march in the second act was made even more dramatic by the towering “will-they-or-won’t they” storm clouds in the sky which kept flickering with internal lightning. Radames returns, having conquered the Ethiopians--including Aida’s father, the Ethiopian king.What? She’s a...princess?
Between the second and third acts, the orchestra began to pack up their instruments. More confusion. However, when it started to lightly sprinkle in the middle of the third act it made more sense--musicians do NOT want their instruments wet, especially the woodwinds and strings. The wind picked up also, adding drama to the story as Aida tricks Radames into telling her where the army is going next. Aida’s father hears the news (remember, he’s the leader of the opposing country), but they are all discovered before an attack can be planned.  
The tension that had been growing all evening, both on the stage and in the sky, deepened at this point, with the intermission between the third and fourth act. It was supposed to be 20 minutes long. The clouds had other ideas. So what happens when 10,000 Italians are sitting in an Arena waiting for the opera to begin, or not? They do the Wave! It began in Angela’s side of the stadium, traveling around and around. Honestly, since this is not the sort of thing that the decorous Italians commonly do at a performance (they look at you funny if you sing and dance at a concert) I thought it was hilarious. Here I am, in Italy, at the opera, doing the Wave. After 20 minutes, an announcement was made over the loudspeaker in Italian, German, and English that the performance “may or may not continue.” The powers that be would continue to check in with the meteorological society to monitor the chances of rain. So we did the wave again. 
At long last, the skies were approved, and the performance could continue. Several stage hands came out and wiped off the music stands and the orchestra’s chairs--to thunderous applause.  When the conductor entered, he received the loudest applause of all. The opera continued; Radames and Aida are sentenced to death, to be sealed inside a temple to one of the Egyptian gods. They comfort each other as they plan to starve to death, slowly fading away as the music gets softer and softer. 
After the show, we had to go out for gelato and cappuccino, since it was by this time nearly 2:30 in the morning. Deep-dish pizza was also involved. Finally, we were on the way home, which sounds simple enough, if we could have found the autostrada. I know how to get to the Autostrada, it’s clearly marked and I’ve done it dozens of times. But we were in a different parking garage last night, and when we followed the signs they kept leading us to road construction and “deviazione” or detours. Angela pulled out her GPS and told it to take her home, but after about two minutes we figured out it wanted to go back to the Opera. So we ignored it and headed to the autostrada on our own, trying desperately to follow the signs as the roads got funnier and funnier. After about 45 minutes of this, we found the highway and headed back to Vicenza, arriving home at 4:30--about an hour before the sun comes up. I crawled into bed and slept until 11.
La Traviata has been my favorite performance so far this season (post coming), but last night’s Aida was the most unforgettable opera experience I have ever had. I hope that I get to go to the opera with Angela again, but I hope it’s simpler next time.