Column: An Opera Newbie’s Adventure

Editor’s note: Arbor Opera Theater is giving a free concert on Thursday, July 16 at the First Congregational Church, 608 E. William Street (on the corner of South State and William). The show, which starts at 7 p.m., will feature arias and ensembles from well-known operas. Never been to an opera? Neither had Helen Nevius, until she attended a performance of AOT’s “Die Fledermaus” last month. The Chronicle asked her to share her impressions.

I am not an uncultured person. I’ve been to the ballet once or twice, and I’ve seen a couple Shakespeare plays. Going to the opera, however, isn’t something I usually do. In fact, it’s something I’d never done before I went to see Johann Strauss Jr.’s “Die Fledermaus,” performed by the Arbor Opera Theater, for The Chronicle.

Up until that performance, my knowledge of opera consisted of impressions gathered from cartoons, movies and listening to the “Jesus Christ Superstar” soundtrack I got for Christmas when I was 13. So, as far as I knew, going to the opera would involve dressing up in a cape and top hat and using tiny binoculars to observe a rotund gentleman vocalizing in a Viking helmet. If I was lucky, he might knock over some money changers’ tables and break out into a guitar solo.

Not wanting to experience all that alone, I goaded my fiancé into going. At first he seemed reluctant, but he agreed to come along out of his curiosity to see how much of the opera he could understand (since we both assumed it would be in German). The next step was figuring out what to wear.

I was somewhat dismayed when my mother – who had seen “Fledermaus” as a German student years ago – informed me that I wouldn’t need opera glasses or a cape. I was glad I dressed down, though, when I got to the theater and the other people in the audience were wearing shorts and sandals instead of heavily jeweled gowns and top hats.

I read the story summary in my program carefully, since I thought I wouldn’t be able to understand the actual singing during the performance. I learned it involved a practical joke one character (Dr. Falke) played on another (Herr Eisenstein) by orchestrating a party and various instances of concealed identity (including Eisenstein’s maid and his wife). The whole thing was an act of revenge, as Eisenstein had previously abandoned Falke, who was dressed as a bat (“fledermaus” in German) for a costume party, in the middle of town.

I was surprised when the curtain went up, and the maid Adele (played by Kara Alfano) walked onto the set and spoke her first lines…in English. Although my fiancé was disappointed he wouldn’t get to test his comprehension of German, we both agreed it helped to be able to understand the songs and dialogue.

As the opera progressed, it proved both easier to understand and more amusing than I’d anticipated. The character Alfred (Benjamin Bunsold), a former paramour of Eisenstein’s wife Rosalinda (Marianne Cope), stuck out to me, with his thick Italian accent and preoccupation with food. He would crack jokes, only to splay his hands afterward at the exasperated recipient and exclaim, “I make-a the fun!” I hadn’t expected to encounter such a hilariously stereotypical character in an opera, and as a result I found him thoroughly entertaining.

I never expected to laugh so much at an opera. First there was Adele feigning theatrical sadness over a fictitious sick aunt in order to get out of work. Then there was Eisenstein pretending to be the “Marquis Renard” at the party and throwing out random French phrases at his supposed fellow countryman the “Chavalier Chagrin” (actually a prison governor): “Filet mignon!” “Grey poupon!” I also liked watching all the characters stumbling around pretending to be drunk on champagne, and seeing the prince hosting the party played by a woman (Sarah Nisbett) in drag.

When I wasn’t chuckling at their antics, I marveled at the characters’ singing. I’m a person who possesses no vocal musical ability whatsoever. (And I’m not saying that to be modest. I come from a family where, when we sing on birthdays, even we cringe at how we sound.) So I’m always in awe of people who can belt out a song in tune. The strong, clear and seemingly acrobatic voices of the Arbor Opera singers filling the theater impressed me with their volume and range. They made me wish my own voice were something other than a tool for the torture of my loved ones.

When I left the opera, I hadn’t seen the performance I expected. It was more entertaining than I had imagined (and, with my fiancé performing his version of “Star Wars: The Opera” on the way home, it kept me amused even after the curtain went down). I learned the opera isn’t necessarily about capes and guitars and Viking hats. It can also be about perpetually hungry Italians, cross-dressing princes and drunken parties. And that’s definitely something I’d go see again.

Editor’s note: Performances of “Die Fledermaus” are over, but check the Arbor Opera Theater webiste for information about its upcoming season or sign up for its email updates.

About the author: Helen Nevius, a student at Eastern Michigan University, is an intern with The Ann Arbor Chronicle.