November 22, 2011
Carmen is a tale of passion and jealousy, among gypsies, smugglers, and soldiers, set in the oppressive heat of Seville. The atmosphere created by the Oxford Operatic Society feels a little more like a warmish day in Scarborough, but nonetheless you can still sense the passion for music in many of the performers.
Considering that the Oxford Operatic Society’s members are all amateurs, some of the voices are very impressive. Sian Millett is excellent as the eponymous heroine, a free-spirited, sultry gyspy who falls in love with young impressionable soldier Don Jose. As his possessiveness suffocates her she switches her attentions to the charismatic bullfighter Escamillo, which pushes Don Jose to the brink of jealous despair, with devastating consequences.
As a first opera I had been told that Carmen was a very good choice. Not wanting to reveal myself as an uncultured fool, but having some well-known catchy tunes made the thought of the warbling a bit less intimidating. (Speaking of uncultured fools, my friend wanted mention to be made of his disappointment at the absence of Jeremy Clarkson and Richard Hammond. Yes: car men. I can only apologise).
The famous Toreador’s Song was definitely a highlight, as was the scene that followed featuring two smugglers trying to persuade Carmen and two other gypsy girls to help them smuggle their contraband into the mountains. However, these standout moments were surrounded by a fair amount of tedium. In an opera famed for its high-drama and intensity, much of the emotion just fell a little flat. Though the singing and the orchestra were of a high standard, the acting was very hit and miss.
I think also the fact that it was sung in English translation made a huge difference. You may wish to refer to the earlier uncultured fool reference, but a song sung in a different language feels highbrow. When you find out that the song’s lyrics are basically the following for about five minutes:
“Have you seen this man?”
“No I haven’t.”
“Hello, here I am.”
“Oh look there he is.”
it just feels a little bit ridiculous.
Good individual performances, good set pieces, I just wanted my heart to be wrenched a bit more. And preferably in a foreign language. Isn’t that what opera’s for?
Considering that the Oxford Operatic Society’s members are all amateurs, some of the voices are very impressive. Sian Millett is excellent as the eponymous heroine, a free-spirited, sultry gyspy who falls in love with young impressionable soldier Don Jose. As his possessiveness suffocates her she switches her attentions to the charismatic bullfighter Escamillo, which pushes Don Jose to the brink of jealous despair, with devastating consequences.
As a first opera I had been told that Carmen was a very good choice. Not wanting to reveal myself as an uncultured fool, but having some well-known catchy tunes made the thought of the warbling a bit less intimidating. (Speaking of uncultured fools, my friend wanted mention to be made of his disappointment at the absence of Jeremy Clarkson and Richard Hammond. Yes: car men. I can only apologise).
The famous Toreador’s Song was definitely a highlight, as was the scene that followed featuring two smugglers trying to persuade Carmen and two other gypsy girls to help them smuggle their contraband into the mountains. However, these standout moments were surrounded by a fair amount of tedium. In an opera famed for its high-drama and intensity, much of the emotion just fell a little flat. Though the singing and the orchestra were of a high standard, the acting was very hit and miss.
I think also the fact that it was sung in English translation made a huge difference. You may wish to refer to the earlier uncultured fool reference, but a song sung in a different language feels highbrow. When you find out that the song’s lyrics are basically the following for about five minutes:
“Have you seen this man?”
“No I haven’t.”
“Hello, here I am.”
“Oh look there he is.”
it just feels a little bit ridiculous.
Good individual performances, good set pieces, I just wanted my heart to be wrenched a bit more. And preferably in a foreign language. Isn’t that what opera’s for?