![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
*is ded*
Anyway.
Puccini is the most beautiful thing in my life right now. Mum informs me that we have a recording of La Fanciulla del West that I may have, which pleases me inordinately.
It was a splendid opera. I cannot possibly express the splendidness of it, or the way it felt, or the way I was continually wanting to take snapshots of it and keep it for-ever. I loved Johnson--and I can't say 'the fellow who played Johnson' because this time, unlike with Carmen, it rather felt like I was watching real people instead of actors; real people who just happened to have been placed on a stage for some reason, because we were allowed to watch them. Johnson, at any rate, had a gorgeous voice. His tenor was amazing, and The Song of Tell Her I've Gone Away Rather Than Died was utterly beautiful. It was beautiful. It was one of the parts I wanted to keep.
I also wanted the part in the beginning when the miners sing the Song of Woe We Miss Our Homes and sad!miner begins crying, and then asks to be allowed to be sent home, and everyone passes the hat to collect the money so that he can go. Felt like crying, too, and it was only the first fifteen minutes.
The end is sad. I thought it would be happy ending because of the synopsis, and it wasn't, really. All the miners sang the Song of Woe Minnie is Going Away and despite Minnie and Johnson singing the Song of Hurrah We Are Going to Live Happily Ever After, one still felt impossibly sad.
Rance was wonderful. He was, however, wearing a long leather coat, and I kept thinking of him the whole way through as Fix (yes, Fix. Of Around the World in Eighty Days fame); though that did lend to his almost sympathetic air in some places. I'm not sure--it seemed that although he was the antagonist, there was something touchable in him, and I really rather want to write with him now. I shall perhaps try, too. Love.
Minnie was all right. I didn't fancy her as much as some of the actors, but she was certainly not bad or ordinary. Her clothes were a little distracting, and soprano voices just tend to give me headaches; so nothing against her in particular, but I was getting quite head-pained by the end. Thunderous applause does little to help.
Sonora was good. Hugs to him.
On the way there and the way back (the opera is in Baltimore, MD, so we have something of a drive), I looked out the window, and I started having revelations. I'm not sure how to describe it, but lately I've been sort of feeling things sometimes for some odd reason. I'll be at acting or busy writing or listening to something or looking out the window or working at Stoneybridge, and suddenly realise something. It's a private thing, too, though, so I don't know if I'll really write any more about it here.
Finally, my room is frigid. It's the only room in the entire house with no heating, and I can't force the window shut, so I am sleeping under rather a lot of blankets these nights. I seem to remember that last year I had to sleep in my heavy coat several times. Very annoying, but Mum says I may sleep in the guest room if I get too cold, and I might take her up on that. I'm wrapped in a quilt now, and still shivering.
Anyway.
Puccini is the most beautiful thing in my life right now. Mum informs me that we have a recording of La Fanciulla del West that I may have, which pleases me inordinately.
It was a splendid opera. I cannot possibly express the splendidness of it, or the way it felt, or the way I was continually wanting to take snapshots of it and keep it for-ever. I loved Johnson--and I can't say 'the fellow who played Johnson' because this time, unlike with Carmen, it rather felt like I was watching real people instead of actors; real people who just happened to have been placed on a stage for some reason, because we were allowed to watch them. Johnson, at any rate, had a gorgeous voice. His tenor was amazing, and The Song of Tell Her I've Gone Away Rather Than Died was utterly beautiful. It was beautiful. It was one of the parts I wanted to keep.
I also wanted the part in the beginning when the miners sing the Song of Woe We Miss Our Homes and sad!miner begins crying, and then asks to be allowed to be sent home, and everyone passes the hat to collect the money so that he can go. Felt like crying, too, and it was only the first fifteen minutes.
The end is sad. I thought it would be happy ending because of the synopsis, and it wasn't, really. All the miners sang the Song of Woe Minnie is Going Away and despite Minnie and Johnson singing the Song of Hurrah We Are Going to Live Happily Ever After, one still felt impossibly sad.
Rance was wonderful. He was, however, wearing a long leather coat, and I kept thinking of him the whole way through as Fix (yes, Fix. Of Around the World in Eighty Days fame); though that did lend to his almost sympathetic air in some places. I'm not sure--it seemed that although he was the antagonist, there was something touchable in him, and I really rather want to write with him now. I shall perhaps try, too. Love.
Minnie was all right. I didn't fancy her as much as some of the actors, but she was certainly not bad or ordinary. Her clothes were a little distracting, and soprano voices just tend to give me headaches; so nothing against her in particular, but I was getting quite head-pained by the end. Thunderous applause does little to help.
Sonora was good. Hugs to him.
On the way there and the way back (the opera is in Baltimore, MD, so we have something of a drive), I looked out the window, and I started having revelations. I'm not sure how to describe it, but lately I've been sort of feeling things sometimes for some odd reason. I'll be at acting or busy writing or listening to something or looking out the window or working at Stoneybridge, and suddenly realise something. It's a private thing, too, though, so I don't know if I'll really write any more about it here.
Finally, my room is frigid. It's the only room in the entire house with no heating, and I can't force the window shut, so I am sleeping under rather a lot of blankets these nights. I seem to remember that last year I had to sleep in my heavy coat several times. Very annoying, but Mum says I may sleep in the guest room if I get too cold, and I might take her up on that. I'm wrapped in a quilt now, and still shivering.
