[almost ky safe] chasing butterflies

 photo: creative commons GNU license

i've had midnight to dawn spine shivers courtesy of goddess, maria callas & her ilk. she saw out my evening & begins the day again. ah, if only i could sing. but through her, the fantasy breathes.

sadly i'm going to quote pretty woman. yes, the movie. forgive me but, my discovery of opera was a bit like richard gere introducing julia roberts to the wonder which is this illustrious form. we [the opera & i] became one despite justifiably always being the last off the karaoke cab rank] fused & i wept & laughed like a baby my first time. i probably didn't look as attractive as julia.

GERE

People's reactions to opera the first time they see it
is very dramatic.
They either love it or they hate it.
If they love it, they will always love it.
If they don't, they may learn to appreciate it,
but it will never become part of their soul.

the first opera i ever saw was puccini's madama butterfly. it absolutely blew my mind. all the elements i love in the threatrical form: visual beauty, a fuck-off love story, conflict, social commentary, poetic sacrifice were all there. i was always going to love aronofky's black swan as well, despite the problems with it. same reason. oh, and it's aronofsky.

nothing beats a tear-jerking tragedy which reeks of realism. i've seen poor little butterfly a handful of times since, but with a semi-decent sound system & volume pumped it's pretty good at home/work too. one can surreptitiously rock a kimono, skin prickles complete & sing to passerbyers on the street with exaggerated expression. the volume thankfully drowns out my input.



arriving home late last night fueled on forbidden vodka cocktails pushed on by my reunited bestie, i went from detox to retox in one foul swooping see-saw movement. what came next was a degustation of puccini's finest very loud for a couple of hours. sorry princess rae rae.

 tamaki miura - copyright: www.kinouya.com

youtube really is an excellent enabler of such obsessive flash-in-the-pan fetishes. what did we do before? the above version is by tamaki miura, the original soprano who puccini cast as butterfly/cio cio-san in 1904.


butterfly has become a staple for opera companies for good reason. it's probably one of the more visually & aurally accessible & utterly intoxicating operas for laypeople like myself who don't really know a tenor from a baritone. it's linear story composition with uncomplicated core themes resonates with the masses. it's simply heartachingly beautiful on every level.

if you haven't seen it, do. for those in oz, opera australia have another madama butterfly production nearing the end of the season in sydney. la boheme opens april in melbourne, then july in sydney.  i haven't seen this season's butterfly but my friends who have & wax rhetoric after breaking open their opera seal for the first time.

according to gere's edward as he confides to roberts' vivian, they will always love it.

epilogue:


see how i sneakily slipped this in here? now with hebrew subtitles! what's not to love?

loser cycle of three

last night henderson snr & i hit the opera house to indulge in some culture for the opening night of opera australia's production of puccini's B side the girl of the golden west. you just can't beat comp tix! a slightly camp [waves of dick johnson references] spaghetti western in italian. opera style. now there's a genre mix. 

highlights: giant projected roses overtaking the stage as minnie's um, innocence is lost. you should see what happens when a mass of roses hurtle through the sky frenetically like sperms on speed. hold onto your flaming zorro inspired R & lunge for the nearest badass half-breed bandit. in a gold rush world dominated by miners, men and mayhem there's plenty to choose from.

earlier en route we had almost been thrown out of the cab because my language describing the content of my current film project was deemed offensive by the taxi driver who informed us that "my mother had brought me up much better than that." apparently using words to describe male genitalia or phallus is however acceptable. after failing to justify context & in order to save our ride we clung to one another, our silence was bought. much suppressed  hilarity ensued.

these photos were taken with my [un]trusty phone after several alcohol intermissions and more wayward frolicking not long before i actually lost my phone. this is a common occurrence. we spent the end of the night chasing ivan the theatre manager & eventually locating said phone in security. hurrah!

catching a cab to the walker st abode & satisfactorily cleaning out troy of his last five dollar bill to find a bedridden claire. we regaled upon her stories of the night only to find that she had spent the evening off her sick bed chasing lost keys assuming she's left them in the front door. she had then spent the evening assuming a home invasion was imminent. once she tidied her room the keys mysteriously turned up.

then troy with pockets out-turned abruptly interjected wanting to know if i remembered the type of cab we'd hailed. seems he'd left his wallet in the car...