I saw the opera Turandot last night. I love how Puccini launches right into the heart of the story, no overture. Just a few bars of music and we're into the square in ancient Peking, with the crowd gathering for the latest execution of yet another prince who's failed to win Turandot's hand.
It was a great production at City Opera. A bit more intimate than what you see at the Met, but still spectacular. This huge staircase was moved around on the set, and I must confess that I was a bit worried whether any of the singers would trip over their long robes as they walked up and down the stairs.
One of the greatest arias, Nessun Dorma (no one shall sleep), is in the third act. And I got chills hearing the hero, Prince Calaph, who, while not the brightest crayon in the box, sings. My friend and I both agreed that we couldn't believe how crazy it was that he reunites with his long lost father, and then immediately falls in love/lust with the Princess and is willing to risk death to marry her. Never mind the fact that Liu, the slave girl, is so much in love with Calaph, and willing to sacrifice herself under torture rather than reveal Calaph's secret (his name) to Turandot. And Calaph just doesn't seem to really get it. He's just all wrapped up in Turandot -- so he wins the princess' hand eventually, but he loses Liu and his dad. Somehow that doesn't seem right. There was a bit of harlequin romance in how he gets Turandot to fall in love with him.
I loved the three ministers, Ping Pang and Pong. And the English translations of the subtitles for their songs were especially hilarious. My Italian lessons actually worked -- the singers enunciated enough that I could actually catch a lot of the words and understand them.
Like I said, it's not that the story is such a great surprise, it's the joy you take in seeing how it all happens.
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