10 Things you didn’t know about opera

With my first opera attendance having blown my virginal socks off, opera virgin that is, I felt the next responsible step in the process of enlightenment for The Opera Virgin, intent on taking in every opera performance in South Africa, should be some opera — who knew. So, freshly inspired by the tenor in Figaro and emboldened like none other than Brunhilde, I recently spent time chatting to those in the opera-know about the art form that has so captivated my soul.

Here are 10 things this opera virgin did not know about the art form.

#1 The wedding march is from an opera

I bet that all-too-familiar melody is running through your head right now. Who doesn’t love the wedding march? Chances are you’ve heard it over the past 30 days. Ag, shame.

But did you know that Richard Wagner’s opera Lohengrin introduced the world to the bridal chorus? The sad thing is, in the opera, the marriage is a flop, with the much-loved chorus performed mere moments before several wedding guests are murdered. Hectic.

#2 The legacy of the conducting stick

At a recent performance of Le Nozze de Figaro, I was mesmerised by the conductor and his, um, stick. It turns out, as I subsequently discovered, that this tool and its uses were pioneered by the man considered to be the father of French opera, Jean-Baptiste Lully, born in Italy in 1632.

Sad but true, he died, rather dramatically, of gangrene after a nasty bout of accidentally stabbing himself in the foot with one of his more heavy conducting sticks. 

#3 Jackie Chan is a trained opera singer

This one caught The Opera Virgin by surprise. The man known for effortlessly engaging in 10 simultaneous somersaults while taking out the baddies was enrolled at the Chinese Opera Research Institute between the ages of 7 and 17, where he trained for the Peking Opera. 

Nunchucks Jax went on to enjoy a successful singing career in Asia, with numerous albums to his credit. Rumour has it that during his training, he learnt martial arts and acrobatics. I wonder if he misses belting out the tunes from back in the day?

#4 Opera etiquette

The Lady Etiquette Academy, purveyors of all things socially correct, told me that after an opera performance, one raises one’s voice somewhat to deliver a bravo for a man and a brava for a woman. Ensuring you are always one step ahead of a potential social pitfall, where two or more singers have just performed, one delivers in the plural form, which is bravi.

Should said multiplicity of performers have been of the fairer sex, proudly deliver brave (pronounced BRAH-vay). If you’re from the south or west rands in Joburg, or from the northern suburbs of Cape Town, the standard pronunciation of brave will do (aka brayv).

#5 Soul-searching Mozart

In 1784 Mozart joined his local chapter of the Freemasons and, bringing his unique skill set to the lodge party, set about writing several cantatas for their ceremonies and other goings-on. The then rumour mill had it that his opera The Magic Flute incorporated many of their warm, fuzzy ideals, including wisdom, friendship and nature. And some of the more spiky ones, like sacrifice.

The thing is, Mozart died nine weeks after the premiere of his opera with many in the know speculating that he was topped because The Magic Flute revealed too much.

#6 Pulling a Milli Vanilli

Italian operatic tenor Enrico Caruso (1873 – 1921), who sang to great acclaim at the major opera houses of Europe and the Americas, had a rather unique and versatile voice. During a performance of La Bohème, the basso (who shall remain nameless) declared to Caruso via whisper: “I’ve lost my voice”. Caruso gallantly offered to lend a vocal hand, instructing the young singer “move your lips and I’ll sing it for you”.

With his back to the audience and the basso in full compliance, Caruso duly sang for him, to much applause from the audience. And probably a few bravo’s too.

#7 The Met would have none of it

Richard Strauss’ 1905 opera Salome, which tells the story of Salome and John the Baptist, was deemed to be too graphically violent. This resulted in the verkrampte chaps at the Metropolitan Opera in New York banning it for decades. I suppose an opera depicting incest, nudity, murder and a rather unfortunate scene where Salome kisses the lips of John the Baptist’s severed head, wouldn’t trump a binge-worthy Friday night session of House anyway, so maybe they were onto something.

#8 The world’s longest opera

Speaking of things binge-worthy, Richard Wagner’s The Ring of the Nibelung is a cycle of four operas (Das Rheingold, Die Walküre, Siegfried and Götterdämmerung). These days they are performed individually, but Wagner intended them to be performed in a series and as a single performance. 

When this is done, The Ring of the Nibelung notches up the title of the world’s longest opera at 14 hours (18 hours if you include intermissions). The work is based loosely on a Norse legend of the Nibelungenlied. Good luck trying to keep track of your bravo’s, brava’s, bravi’s and brave’s during that marathon session.

#9 The stuff of world records

After Plácido Domingo’s title role performance in Otello in 1991, the audience was so enamoured by his artistic outpouring that they clapped for an hour and twenty minutes, setting a new world record for the longest applause ever. This showering of appreciation resulted in 101 curtain calls.

Luciano Pavarotti received a full 165 curtain calls for his endeavours in Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore in Berlin in 1988. These chaps sure could work a room in their day.

#10 Cue the fat lady

The saying “it ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings” is believed to reference the 10-minute aria performed by Brunhilde at the end of Richard Wagner’s Ring Cycle. The phrase is attributed to basketball coach Dick Motta, who in turn attributes it to overhearing his friend, broadcaster Dan Cook, uttering the now infamous words.

See you at the theatre

And there you have it, an opera education in a nutshell. Now go forth and support our local artists, using the appropriate terminology of course. Catch you from behind the theatre glasses, you opera habitué you.