It did feel a bit like the morning after the night before. It's inhumane for the audience to have to attend at 11am; it must be exponentially worse for all those involved in actually putting on the show!
I have not heard a single note of the opera, except what was performed at the Insight evening. I am really rather pleased I went to that (and not just for the obvious reason that Plácido was there) because it was pretty cool to have a few insights into the score.
As I took my seat in the Slips (restricted view but close to the Stage...) I was filled with growing excitement. I accepted that Plácido was not going to sing - he'd said so less than an hour earlier! But I was still looking forward at least to seeing him!
Oh, he's such a tease! He sang!
I am going to break the rules of discussing Dress Rehearsals but only because it's him...! I think it's probably fair to say that he took a bit to warm up (which all things considered is no surprise) but after about, I dunno, quarter of an hour, twenty minutes, he was sounding just wonderful...to my ears better than he had sounded at the Crossover Brits on Thursday night. Although that might be an acoustic thing!
I am not sure what to think about the actual opera, but I am sure I will have a better idea in three weeks time. It was written by Alfano, most famous for finishing off Turandot, and it's based on the novel by Rostand. I am not sure about the music overall, it's not exactly full of pretty tunes in the style of Verdi or Puccini, but there is some splendid music in it. The orchestra is definitely worth listening to. In the insight evening Mark Elder made special reference to the music of the Gascons, the band of brothers, the musketeers. It would be quite quite wrong to refer to them as the Gazzas...The music for the Siege of Arras is atmospheric, and I started sniffing ominously at that point.
At the start of the final act I burst into tears. It might have been because I knew how the storyline was going, or it might have been something in the music, but it didn't take me long until I was a blubbering wreck, and had to take my glasses off as they were being salted up (and when I inspected my appearance in the Ladies afterwards, I had a shiny red nose).
The production is visibly appealing and doesn't seem to do anything inconsistent with the story. I didn't see any obvious stupidities in the blockings. The production is shared with the New York Metropolitan Opera, and their database is choc full of photos, although they don't do full justice.
In the nose, Plácido is almost unrecognisable, although the twinkle in his eye is unmistakable! It was fun watching him fence, although I missed some of the fencing because of being in a Restricted View seat. He moved around stage with ease and elegance, and, of course, panache, and I must confess to spending a great deal of time gazing at his lovely thighs.
I won't comment at this point on other cast members; to be honest, other than the main parts I had a bit of trouble working out who was who, but I will say that I think I am going to enjoy it and I suspect my overall conclusion on my proper performance reviews will be positive. The orchestra as ever were wonderful.
I have no recollection of there being any furniture abuse as such, although the Gazzas were leaping around tables at one point. And I couldn't swear there wasn't furniture abuse. Lots of sword fighting, cannon fire, and a special operatic bonus, lots of PIES!!! But most importantly of all we had a splendid tenorial death with dramatic falling to the floor and dying slowly in prone agony, which is guaranteed to make me happy - especially when it's this particular tenor. And I blubbed my eyes out!
I did find it thought provoking. I found Roxanne to be a shallow person. She only fell in love with Christian for his looks; the fact that he seemed to be able to write beautiful letters did cause her to fall in love with what she believed to be his soul, although, of course, the letters were written by Cyrano.
Perhaps I shall be accused of being Eurotrashy but it did seem to have resonance for the internet age. I think that when we meet strangers in the flesh we are wont to judge them within seconds purely on their physical appearance. Poor Cyrano, with that nose, was always going to repulse women. His words were beauty, and his words were more representative of the real Cyrano than the nose, but Roxanne couldn't love him.
He then visited her for an hour every Saturday in her Convent, showing total love and devotion, which she was never able to return - presumably because of the nose. Until, she discovered, just as he was dying, that it was actually his soul that she loved...I'm welling up writing this...
Part of me thinks "Ha, serves her right for being so shallow..." but could I honestly say I would be any different. And it's easy to think of him as the romantic hero, noble and good, but I then feel frustrated at the wasted years, the unhappiness - if only he had said, if only he had seized the day. I shall ponder this one some more.
Incidentally, at the insight evening Francesca Zambello explained that in New York there had been a pantomime played at the start of the final act to show the passage of time, but she has decided it didn't really work, so she's removed it, and the Act begins with the Surtitle "Fifteen Years Later". It is rather fun to see how Cyrano and Roxanne had aged in that time. Except that it was heartbreakingly sad.
