Rosenkavalier at the Semperoper
The train ride from Erfurt was easy, and the Germans take their train times seriously, so I got into Dresden on time. Which meant I had exactly 90 minutes to get to the hotel, dump my crap, and get to the opera house for the 6pm curtain. This plan, in theory, would have been perfectly executed, had the internet functioned on the first try, had I been smart enough to pack something to snack on, all of those other things that begin with the Konjunktiv “haette.” Ich haette besser geplant. Ich haette etwas zu essen mitbringen sollen. I made it to the Semperoper, all bundled up like a backpacker and a really nice barman took pity on me and explained how to order food before the opera so it’s all ready for you at the first intermission. So my first course of dinner was an Apfelschorle and a giant pretzel.
Let me say this now – I do love going to the opera, but sometimes it can feel like work. It can feel like I have to be there to broaden my musical education or become more familiar with my craft or something. Thus far, my experience at the opera in Germany has been unparalleled. I was neither bored nor tired, and it didn’t matter how little I had eaten or how few hours I had slept. From the moment the curtain speech started – describing how we were seeing the 100th anniversary performance of Der Rosenkavalier, premiered right there in the Semperoper, with the grandchildren of the original director there in the house with us – I was riveted. It was totally worth the 51 euro for my second balcony ticket. I put my elbows on the rail and didn’t stop staring until the lights came up. Anna Schwanewilms is possibly the most electrifying Strauss singer I’ve ever heard. Ever. In the history of evers. Anke Vondung was a pretty hot Octavian and sang really well. I was trying to figure out exactly what time period it was set in, as there was a conspicuous absence of the usual big puffy wigs and panniered dresses. I was struck by how conversational Strauss can be, within a lyrical line. This is my 2nd Strauss opera in a week and I feel totally spoiled. Second act, I was totally not prepared for the presentation of the rose. I mean, I know it’s coming, I can see we’re headed that way, but when it arrives, it’s like your heart jumps into your throat and there’s nothing, nothing in the world other than Octavian and that silver rose and Sophie and the most gorgeous singing you’ve ever imagined in your heart of all imaginations. And you spend the rest of the act just waiting for Octavian to throw down and get Sophie away from the nasty lecherous Baron Ochs and his Lederhosen-clad entourage, acting every bit like the drunken morons they are. Second intermission was spent trying to read the program notes (good freakin luck!) and understand what the commentary is all about. It’s not bad, truly – two summers at Middlebury did me right. I learned two new words in Dresden: Kohl (cabbage) and Adelige (Nobility). Only one of them I learned at the opera house, selbstverstaendlich. By the time we got to the trio at the end of the third act, I was totally wrapped up in the singing, and more than anything I was renewing my original wish to someday sing the Marschallin. I don’t know if that will ever ever happen (seriously doubt it, vocally) but she is just every inch the serious lady. Classy. Elegant. Sexy. Totally possessed of her own importance, but vulnerable and afraid of growing older, being supplanted. She took my breath away.
And as we left, they gave us CD copies of the very first recording from 1911 as a souvenir. In Gottes Namen, indeed.
I spent most of the next day in the hotel. Scratch that. I spent all of the next day in the hotel, except for when I left for supper. I caught up on trash American television, rested, and generally acted like a slug. My friend Robin tells me that this is about getting the job, not about seeing the city, and she’s totally right. I had a deeelicious dinner at a restaurant recommended by my friend Erik, and made my way into bed at a decent hour. Easy slow breakfast this morning, took a shower and got myself all pretty and fancy. Met up with an old colleague/friend from Indiana who was also auditioning in Germany and we had a lovely little visit. Practiced with the pianist, felt good. Turns out, I was going to sing first so I could make my train. I listened to some Black Eyed Peas (Boom Boom Pow gets me in the mood) and I was totally in a good zone. Sang Fire, they asked for Queen 1, and then I fucked up. I totally fucked up. They asked if I could stay a few hours later to sing on the stage. And I hesitated. I thought about my train trip that’s going to take nearly eight hours to get from Dresden to my cousin’s house. I thought about how there is only one more train to Luedenscheid after the one I’m taking. And in that hesitation, they said, “we understand if it’s going to be difficult, let’s just hear the 2nd aria.” So I asked if I could have a moment to look at the Bahn.de website and see if there’s a later train and, if so, I would happily stay. But by that point in time, they said, “Nein, wir haben Sie gehoert, es ist wirklich kein problem.”
I could have taken a rock and killed myself, I felt so stupid. I should have said YES YES YES I would happily stay and sing on the stage of Semperoper Dresden. But instead, I thought. STUPID STUPID STUPID.
But it’s happened now. I sang both Queen arias pretty darned well, I think. The pianist was very sweet and followed me beautifully. I tried not to shriek, generally speaking. I still need to find a better place to sing that 2nd aria. She’s just not quite comfortable, after all these years, it’s still like I’m wrestling her to the ground and telling her “YOU MUST CHILL” like Lloyd Dobbler in Say Anything.
And I must chill. I must. So I’m going to doctor this cup of coffee and eat the croissant I purchased at Le Crobag (still the funniest name for a bakery EVER) and practice not freaking out. Because it’s very possible I rocked that audition and I might not even know it.
I MUST CHILL.
No comments:
Post a Comment