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. 

[Editor's Note: HD, a.k.a. Dave Askins, editor of The Ann Arbor Chronicle, is also publisher of an online series of interviews on a teeter totter. Introductions to new Teeter Talks appear on The Chronicle.]

Of the possible opera singers who could appear on the totter, I figure it’s always best to go with the kind that alliterates with the venue: a tenor. But if I ever had occasion to invite a soprano to ride, I suppose it might be possible to relax my rigid instance on “teeter totter” as the name of the equipment, in order to achieve a “Soprano See-Saw.”

But no such accommodation was necessary for Shawn McDonald, who is not a soprano, but a tenor with the Arbor Opera Theater. He’s the artistic director for the upcoming production of Die Fledermaus from June 18-21 at the Mendelssohn Theater. The AOT website includes a full schedule of Die Fledermaus events, including specifics of performance times and ticket information.

When I think opera, I think of the movie “Moonstruck.” There’s a scene where characters played by Nicholas Cage and Cher go to an opera. The opera in “Moonstruck” is one of those weighty affairs, fraught with desperate emotion and death. Which is not at all what Die Fledermaus is like, based on Shawn’s description.

Die Fledermaus is a light, comedic piece, accessible to the whole family – that’s what he told me on the totter. From the sound of it, it could work as a “starter opera” for someone who’s unfamiliar with the whole genre. Say, for someone like me, who did not recognize the name “Zeffirelli” when Shawn dropped it on the totter. For more on the Zeffirelli connection to AOT’s production of Die Fledermaus, as well as what it’s like in Ann Arbor to earn your living as a musician – if not as an opera singer – read Shawn McDonald’s Talk.