Rusalka (2/15/14)

Okay, not free but relatively low cost. Every once in a while I splurge on a standing room ticket to the Metropolitan Opera. After hearing Renée Fleming sing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl, and after reading some chatter on WQXR’s message boards re. the 2/8/15 Saturday afternoon broadcast of Rusalka, I bought a ticket to what was its final performance of the season.

Rusalka, Antonin Dvořák (1841–1904) World premiere, Prague, 1901; Met premiere, 1993

Main characters: Rusalka, a water nymph, Renée Fleming; The Prince, Piotr Beczala; Ježibaba, a witch, Dolora Zajick; and Water Gnome, Rusalka’s father, John Relyea. Other cast members available upon request.

The story is a fairly straightforward fairy tale. Rusalka sees the Prince and falls in love with him. Only via a spell can she become human, but she will lose the power of speech. She’s convinced that love will conquer all, so she agrees. Even though the Prince loves her, he also (frustrated by his inability to communicate with Rusalka) confesses his love for a Foreign Princess. Rusalka returns to her water, and the Foreign Princess mocks the Prince and tells him to follow his beloved to hell. While Rusalka is lamenting her fate, the witch gives Rusalka a knife and says that if she kills the Prince, she can save herself. Rusalka throws the knife into the water. The prince arrives, calls out to Rusalka to return to him and learns that a kiss from her would kill him. He requests a kiss—and peace. She kisses him, he dies in her arms, and she asks for mercy on his soul and then disappears into the water. (Freely stolen er, adapted, from the synopsis in the Playbill.)

Here’s one of the good things about opera—the characters are broadly drawn and broadly played, in order to make sense in a larger-than-life performance space. Here’s one of the bad things about opera—see the previous sentence. The sets, staging, costumes, orchestra (conducting), and singing were all top notch. By having a standing room ticket, I was at a slight visual disadvantage in that my view of the stage could best be described as letterbox format. By bending down a bit and using a small pair of binoculars, I was able to see Rusalka as she sang the “Song to the Moon,” perched in a notch in a tree. Both it and Ms. Fleming were gorgeous here. It’s almost too bad that it appears so early in the opera since it’s such a highlight. Maybe the next time I splurge for an opera ticket I’ll buy one that has a full view of the stage (though I’m sure I’ll still need the binoculars).

Opera is a commitment (this one ran from 8:00pm–11:50pm) that I’m not always willing to make. But seeing Ms. Fleming in a signature role, and the other vocalists were no slouches either, is something that I should do for myself every once in a while. As this was the final performance of the run (and I think this might have been the case in the last one or two Met performances I attended), all of the cast members applauded the orchestra during their curtain calls. If this is a “last night” tradition, I’m okay with it; if it’s an “every performance” tradition, not so much. Hey, if that’s my only quibble, so be it. The music, a mix of impressionism, romanticism, a few set pieces, but mostly through-composed, was as much a highlight as the individual (and collective) performances.

ConcertMeister