I know at least two of you out there have been anxiously wondering how my evening at the opera was. And I shall tell you quite succinctly:
It was absolutely, marvelously splendid!
Alright, enough of that short-and-sweet silliness. On to the good stuff.
The evening began in the middle of the afternoon. I had to make my way from Kibbutz Na'an to Tel Aviv by 6:00, but really I wanted to get their earlier to make sure I knew where I was, allow for inevitably getting lost, and maybe even have some time to walk around and take in a few of the sites in the city. (Note: Tel Aviv is arguably the most cosmopolitan and contemporary city in Israel, second in population only to Jerusalem.) So I took a taxi from the kibbutz to Rehovot where I hopped on a train (almost literally, I was so excited) with the kind woman who assured me that I was, indeed, on the right platform. For the 25-or-so minutes we were on the train we chatted pleasantly (her English was fantastic, I might add), and before leaving she gave me her phone number in case I might ever need anything in Jerusalem, where she lives. She also gave me the name and number of a religious gentleman who apparently makes it his job to give young travelers in Jerusalem a place to eat for Shabbos dinner. Such generous hospitality! She also made sure to note that whether or not it was in my plans, I would likely end up making aliyah (immigrating to Israel) - because that's what so many people do! Such an Israeli philosophy :)
Made it to the correct train station in Tel Aviv thanks to the advice of my earlier taxi driver, made my way out of the station, and stepped into the wide, sunny, bustling world of Tel Aviv. I knew more-or-less what direction to go, but I did ask a few strangers (in Hebrew!) how to get to the street where I would find the Performing Arts Center. It was a little further than I expected, but I found it. Almost missed it, too! But as I was walking I saw a street sign for the Israeli Opera. Then another. Then another. Then I looked at the building I had just photographed for its grand facade and found, to my astonishment, that I was looking at the home of the Opera. The joy I experienced in that moment would have, I am certain, made a professional psychologist question my sanity. But I was so excited not only for the opera but for the opportunity to see my first fully-staged professional opera in Israel and to bask in the company of other like-minded music enthusiasts (read: nerds).
When my friend got done with work and met me there, we got coffee and tea while we waited for the half-priced tickets to go on sale. Upon purchasing them we found out that it was actually free for him to go because he's in the army. Lucky. Surprise, surprise, he's considering going to many more events now with this knowledge in hand. I don't blame him a bit.
We still had two hours before the show so we traipsed around Tel Aviv looking for a place to eat. Now, I should clarify that he was traipsing. I was running. His height was a significant disadvantage for me. Luckily he knew where we were going so our jog was not for naught and we ended up with some quick and inexpensive Israeli thin crust pizza. Gotta admit, Israeli fast food puts American fast food to shame!
We got back to the Performing Arts Center with just enough time. The theater was beautiful, with dark woodwork and smooth shapes throughout. And despite our inexpensive tickets, we had a perfect view of the stage! Third row balcony, center. Absolutely perfect for us. Though as my friend pointed out, we found ourselves in the "Retirement Loge." I didn't mind; at least the old man next to me didn't snore when he fell asleep.
The show began with a short introductory narration in recitative and my friend and I both silently celebrated when we found the projected translations above the stage to be in both Hebrew and English. And with the lead soprano's opening melody I finally understood what one of my professors once said: Opera is meant to be seen, not blindly listened to. Admittedly I don't normally care for the operatic vocal aesthetic, but she was telling a story and it didn't matter to me. Of course her voice was beautiful and carried perfectly unaided in the expansive theatre, but it was that combined with the orchestra and the story that made it all come together.
Now, of course I expected the music to be fantastic. But what I hadn't considered was the stage and set. All I can say is WOW. This was a fantastic, ingenious idea for a set. The entire set was a series of hinged wooden walls, one the entire length and height of the stage, that could be moved and transformed to fit each scene. It worked perfectly, seamlessly, and dramatically. Both my friend and I commented on it endlessly during intermission.
The orchestra was absolutely magnificent and conducted by a female conductor! This is significant because there are so few female conductors of significant repute throughout the world, so seeing a woman conducting the orchestra for the Tel Aviv Opera was wonderful! What's more, Shostakovitch scored this opera heavily with brass, so there was an antiphonal brass choir situated in either loge near the stage. There were also musical interludes during which the brass choir descended to the stage and played directly to the audience, acting as a sort of modified Greek Chorus at significant transitions in the production.
The only drawback to being in the balcony was that at times we felt detached from the singers, but they were still quite audible. Though there was one man in particular with such a strong baritone voice I'm sure there wasn't a person in that room unable to hear him perfectly.
I must admit, there are a few humorous anomalies about seeing an opera in Israel. For instance, in a show including three murders, a wedding, and a suicide, there's bound to be a religious figure, and in Russia that figure is an Eastern Orthodox priest. So there is something rather hilarious about seeing a man who otherwise looks like Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof wearing a priest's vestments and making the sign of the cross with the rest of the cast on stage. Let's face it: most of those people were Jews, so it added a hint of comedy in times when there probably should have been none. I couldn't help it - I snickered.
The show ended after 11:00 pm, at which point my friend and I had to make our ways back to Rehovot and then to our respective homes. Again we walked/jogged to the central bus station where we took a sherut (a large van which serves as a less expensive and faster option than a regular bus) to Rehovot then each took our own taxi back. My taxi driver, Avi, was incredibly kind and talkative, and he, too, assured me that I'd be back to Israel. "They all come back," he said. And when I paid him he smiled warmly, told me how I'm such a nice girl, and wished me good night.
I promptly conked out after 1:00 am, pleasantly exhausted and culturally refreshed.
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P.S. Pictures will be up soon on Flickr, and a link will be added to the Photos page, both within the next days or so.
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