Opera sells itself (if you can just get them into the theater)

Last night I performed in the dress rehearsal of Puccini’s La bohème. The audience was made up mostly of high school age students and was peppered with supporters of the opera and various friends and family of cast members. We all know that Puccini crafted a masterpiece. Act I introduces us to the four Bohemians and Mimi. We get to see their world, know what drives them emotionally and see the relationship of Mimi and Rodolfo unfold. In Act II, we see their greater world as they venture out into Paris in the 1830s. We also meet Musetta and get an understanding of the volatile relationship she and Marcello have. Act III the drama really begins to take shape as we get a deeper understanding of the intensity and passion of the relationships between the two couples. By Act IV we see that both Rodolfo and Marcello are back to being single men. The other two friends (Schaunard and Colline) come in and the boys are back to having a good time. Suddenly Musetta enters and says that Mimi is dying. Throughout the wrenching last act Mimi and Rodolfo are reunited along with Marcello and Musetta. Mimi slowly dies as all the Bohemians surround her to say farewell. I have seen La bohème live on three occasions and listened to it more times than I can count. But every time we get to the end it gets me and I get choked up.

This was my first experience singing bohème and it was exciting to have an audience that was so invested in the story. They responded to the humor, the romance and the depth of loss that all interweave throughout this fascinating story. Most of the audience members were “new” to opera, yet were not afraid to laugh, hoot when Marcello and Musetta reunite in Act II, respond to the thrilling Act III quartet and applaud madly for the artists at the curtain call. It confirmed what I’ve always believed about opera; the artform sells itself. These composers were men of the theater and had a sixth sense about how to combine text, music and character that could capture an audience. I’m always happy when a “younger” audience gets to experience opera because they get its visceral impact and even though it is performed in a large theater and in a foreign language, still seem to feel an intimate connection with the main characters.

Maybe one of the problems with attracting people to opera is not the artform, but the idea of what a trip to the opera is. Many people still think it is a gathering of the elite, but a recent rebuff of an article about opera being for the 1% shows that many passionate opera lovers come from a diverse background:

http://www.npr.org/blogs/deceptivecadence/2011/10/13/141319827/opera-is-for-the-99-heres-what-you-told-us

Perhaps the real solution is to get away from so much formality and let the audience feel that they can truly respond to the action happening on stage. Of course you want the audience to be enraptured by the gorgeous arias, remain spellbound by the acting and respond generously at the curtain call, but you also want them to feel that the entire operatic experience is one that engulfs all the senses (listening to amazing music, tasting great cocktails while at intermission, the romantic scent of their date’s new perfume, the sight of people from all walks of life and the feeling of emotional impact of having experienced an amazing performance.) Isn’t that what great theater does?

Peace,

Eric