Opera and More Opera

In case you don't know, the Metropolitan Opera broadcasts an opera series, in High Definition, to movie theaters in select cities across the world. Information can be found HERE: http://www.metoperafamily.org/metopera/broadcast/hd_events_current.aspx

Last night I saw Richard Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier, a marvelous piece of work about love lost and found. The plot, which is delightfully convoluted, begins with a thirty-two year old temptress the Marschallin, in bed with a seventeen-year old lad, Count Rofano Octavian. If this raises your eyebrow, check this out: Octavian is played by a woman. This is because the role is sung in the Mezzo-soprano range, befitting the voice of young boy. So the opening scene has a woman dressed as a guy rolling around in the sack with another woman, singing about the hot sex they just had the night before. In the opera community, this is considered quite comical. If you're not familiar with operatic protocol and just happened to wander in, you think "Hoo-boy--what's all this then?"

In opera when a woman plays the role of a man, it's called a "trouser role." There are several of these, probably the other famous ones are Hansel in Humperdinck's Hansel and Gretel and Nickolaus in Offenbach's wondrously bizarre Tales of Hoffman. But back to Der Rosenkavalier, and the two women, one of whom we're pretending is a guy, wink wink nudge nudge.

The lover's tryst is interrupted by a commotion in the antechamber. The Marschallin, afraid her husband has returned (yes, it's THAT kind of story) makes the young rake hide behind the bed and orders him to get dressed. However, it's not her husband, but her cousin, the loud, obnoxious, fat, drunken, and moronic Baron Ochs. That's pronounced Ox, and the play on words is deliberate, because this guy is like a bull in a china shop. Ochs, bellowing, storms in and havoc ensues.

In the meantime, Octavian can't find his clothes, and emerges dressed as a chambermaid. Baron Ochs, a confirmed lecher, pinches, pokes and prods the bogus young lady while informing the Marschallin he has recently become engaged. Octavian becomes more and more flustered as Ochs molests him--as you can imagine. Baron Ochs says he needs a nobleman to deliver the Silver Rose to his intended, who is the fifteen-year old daughter of a recently promoted nobleman. Yes, these Austrian Nobles are big on cradle-robbing.

The Marschallin promises to find a person to act as the Knight of the Rose, and volunteers our hapless but cheerful Octavian to act as the Rosenkavalier. I think this her idea of humor. Octavian is less than pleased but he'll do anything to accommodate his lover. He's a young man in love, after all. Here is a clip of the moment when Octavian delivers the rose to Sophie. There is no subtitle, but I think you can recognize something happens between these two young people the moment the Rose changes hands. And enjoy that beautiful music while you're at it. Strauss wrote these floating, mesmerizing arias for his sopranos, that can take you somewhere else for awhile, somewhere much nicer than where you're currently residing, I don't care where that may be.



I won't spoil the rest of the story for you, but I will say this: Baron Ochs is one of the funniest characters in operatic theater. The ending is bittersweet. I am reminded of the Simpsons episode where Homer said to Marge: "I'm confused. Is this a happy ending or a sad ending? Marge answered, "It's an ending. That's enough.' Der Rosenkavalier has an ending that's both happy and sad, or either, depending on your age.

Der Rosenkavalier has been highly regarded since its premier in 1910. Here's a bit of trivia for you: In April 1945, Strauss was apprehended by American soldiers at his Garmisch estate. As he descended the staircase he announced to Lieutenant Milton Weiss of the US Army, "I am Richard Strauss, the composer of Rosenkavalier and Salome." Lt. Weiss, who, as it happened, was also a musician, nodded in recognition. Another musically knowledgeable American officer placed an 'Off limits' sign on the lawn to protect Strauss. I think Army officers were a little more cultured in the time of the Second War War. If someone announced they were a composer of operas today, they would probably get shot.