INTERSPECIES FRIENDSHIPS

Opera folks are nothing if not open-minded. (Well, most of us.) I fancy myself a quite progressive fowl, (I mean, I love Dr. Atomic, for goodness sake!) Thus, I have made some friends I would not have imagined, namely felines.

I met wee Phantom here when I visited the warehouse this week. We got in some interspecies snorgling. (See CuteOverload if you don't yet know what that is, and shame on you if you don't!)

Earlier this summer, I hung out with Lucy (or Lulu Belle, as we got to be chums) when Sarah (my seamstress) was working on my tuxedo. She was not so much into the snorgling; she was more "why are you here? are you a toy? can I eat you?"

CHICKEN IN DA 'HOUSE

Because I was starting to get a little fidgety around the office (there's only so many surveys one can tabulate in a day), my co-workers let me take a little field trip. Yesterday, I returned to my birthplace: the Opera Cleveland Warehouse.




At the warehouse, we store all the sets the company has built, in addition to props and costumes. Sets we build (or adapt) are created here. It's like a little city of two-by-fours, fake chandeliers, pulleys, and paper mache trees. A chicken could get into a lot of trouble there.


Right now, our warehouse peeps (the incomparable Kish, her summer apprentice Jessie, painter Megan, and carpenter Jamie) are building our Hansel and Gretel set. Here it is! The role of Gretel will be played by a cockroach and Hansel by a Junebug. (Along with striving to keep production costs down, we are so innovative.)

Oh, but I jest. This is a scale model of the Act I house in our production. We're lucky to have Erhard Rom as our set designer; he is phe-frickin'-nomenal.

Cage o' Candy. (For all of your peppermint twisted fantasies.)

Hanging out in the unfinished Act I house.

I hung out for a while with Jessie as she worked on the door for the Act I house, until she got too much sawdust in my feathers. (I've gotten too used to posh office life, where the only dangers range from eye strain to carpal tunnel. But these are scourges enough, I tell you!)

SPEAKING OF CARMEN

This deserves more than just a twitter: Beaker does the Habanera.



How can you not love this?

KIDS DRAW THE DARNDEST THINGS

Each year through its Short-Term Residency program, Opera Cleveland works with schools to produce a one-hour version of a classic opera. This year, Teaching Artists (who portray the main characters in the shortened opera) worked with students to perform Bizet's Carmen.

And each year, we ask students to describe--in writing or drawings--their favorite part of the experience. As kids are wont to do, they charm us with their interpretation and their excitement about being involved in opera.

Here are some choice excerpts (with commentary, of course).

Carmen: You pretend to love me then say [you] cannot leave your regiment!
Don Jose: Carmen, it's not like that. Listen to me!
(Say it, DJ! Say bee-yotch!)

I think this shows Carmen running away from Don Jose (who has got some major junk in the trunk). I would run away from him too if he had no hands and all he sang was 'O, O, O, O, O.'

Here, the artist portrays Escamilo (allegedly with a nasty case of elephantiasis of the hand), inviting bulls (played by students) to run through the red cape. Said artist appears to have been inspired by the Powder Puff girls. (see below)

Awwww. Dang if that doesn't warm even a chicken's heart.

PICK-ME-UP

We've hit that point in the summer: the vibrancy of the season has given way to languor. All I want to do is lie in my coop, watch reruns of Gossip Girl and drink frappucinos. (Yo, Intern Bobby, fetch me another!) I need some excitement around here.

Then I realized our Le nozze di Figaro performances are only two months away. Better yet, in just one month, I will get to hang out with the cast when they get to town. (We're gonna be BFFs and stay up all night chatting about opera!)

The getting to town part for the artists is always something we need help with. (RTA just won't cut it in this case.) We need Pick-up Artists (har har har): volunteers to pick singers, directors and stage staff up at Hopkins Airport and take them to their lodging in downtown Cleveland. Click here if you're interested. As thanks, you'd receive a pair of tickets to a dress rehearsal. (And get to meet me, which, really now, is reason enough.)

WHAT HAVE I BEEN UP TO?

Choose One:
a) Stuffing envelopes b) Stamping envelopes c) Sealing envelopes
d) Folding surveys e) Folding more surveys f) All of the Above

If you didn't choose F, you are sorely mistaken.
(And probably one of those glass half full type of people. Blech.)

Indeed, I was immersed figuratively and literally (see above) in putting together a humongous Opera Cleveland mailing. We had put together an Audience Survey to obtain some feedback on what y'all want to see on our stage. Y'all meaning 3,300 people. Meaning there were 3,300 surveys to fold and 6,600 envelopes to stamp and label. (Because we're nice like that and include a SASE.)

Because we're an arts non-profit, we did this ginormous mailing ourselves. Our staff pitched in, including Artistic Director Dean (above left) and Executive Director Will (above right).

So, many paper cuts and repetitive motion strains later, we're done. If you haven't received your survey in the mail yet, you should in the next few days. And if you don't, shoot me an email and I will PERSONALLY send one to you.

INFO GRAPHIC

Oh, The Onion. But, seriously...I'm all about a Love Boat opera.
(Although I'd opt for a Fantasy Island opera first.)

LORD OF THE KITCHEN

(No fat jokes, please. Too obvious.)

25 YEARS OF UNDERSTANDING JUST WHAT THE HECK THEY'RE SINGING

When I'm chatting with civilians (i.e. people who have never seen an opera) about opera, a common question I receive is "how do people understand what the singers are saying?!"

Surtitles, baby.
Operas are just like watching a foreign movie; English translations of the libretto are projected onto a screen above the stage. And I just found out that they've been around for 25 years.

According to this article in the New York Times, a guy named Lotfi Mansouri introduced surtitles in 1983 for a production of Strauss’s “Elektra” at the Canadian Opera Company. Beverly Sills, head of New York City Opera at the time, took note and incorporated the technology into a production later that year.

Not everyone was or is a fan of surtitles, though. A critic called Sills a "philistine" for introducing surtitles to productions. (Only a purist would be calling my Bubbles a philistine! Next, I'm gonna hear that it was a travesty that she sang with The Muppets. Some of my best friends are Muppets!)

I concede that surtitles can take away slightly from the action and emotion onstage. But I'm of the opinion that clarifying that action with words can only enhance someone's opera viewing. Opera is not just for purists; it is for everyone.

ALL IN A WEEK'S WORK

Our Finance Director went to Disney World
and all I got was this lousy hat

I jest. Despite my ambivalence toward Mickey Mouse (see here), I'm kinda digging on this look for me. I feel like a mash-up--mouse chicken. Oh so po-mo.

I have a new office mate!

I'm taking a closer look at my spider friend Boris, who is a new occupant in the office. (I'm all about interspecies friendship.)

GET SMART

Summer spells C-A-M-P, even for Opera Cleveland. (But our version doesn't include making junk out of popsicle sticks and tree bark.)

No, this year Opera Cleveland is back at the arts day camp smART in the City, a program of the Cleveland Foundation. Fifth and sixth graders from Cleveland schools attend one of the eight sites around the city. Our site happens to be St. Jerome's.


Yesterday, I went there to hang out with the kids, who--of course--adored me.

I helped them create journal covers for each kid's "Passport to my Future," which is the theme of the program this summer. Then I watched them groove in the Movement portion of the day. I would have joined in, but thought it would be too distracting for them to witness my mad dancing skills. (No chicken can krump like this chicken.)


Later, in the music portion, we played "Drop the Needle." (Something Amy Winehouse should look into. Just a thought.) The name of this game is a little outdated since no one but nerdy audiophiles uses record players anymore. The instructor would play part of a CD and the kids had to guess what country the music was from.

The kids attend smART for five weeks, and at the end, there's a performance that features all that they learned. I will be there.

LOL chikn

(With respekt to those crazy cats who made cuteness paired with
improper grammar marginally amusing.)