Puccini in My Head

First things first.

I'm writing this late Saturday night, but I'm not going to post until tomorrow morning. I figured if I did it this way, I could sleep in a little. 9:00 church is great, except when you've gone to the opera the night before.

I just got back from the opera (duh). My sisters and I, and Sarah, too, because Grandma had another function to go to and couldn't use her own ticket, any by default it ended up in Sarah's hand, went to see the Utah Opera production of 'Tosca' tonight.

I love Puccini. I find the melodies more beautiful and expressive than a sigh. They entrench themselves in my mind and won't let go for many days. The funny thing is, I really don't mind. I would rather have Puccini running through my brain than almost anything else. And the best part is, I wasn't disappointed in tonight's performance.

The villian was so villianous. His voice was gorgeous and his acting wasn't bad, which for an opera singer is saying a lot. By the end of the first act I really wanted to booo! every time I saw him. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, depending upon your point of view, that sort of reaction is very much frowned upon in the opera.

The soprano was glorious! I didn't want to scratch her throat out when she sang the high notes. In fact, I could have listened to her sing a bunch more of them. And the suicide! The magenta cape she was wearing billowed out behind her as she threw herself off the building (onto a crash mat I suspect, because she looked plenty healthy for the curtain calls).

But the best of all was the leading man. He acted! He SANG! He sounded a lot like Pavoratti! He received many 'bravos' and curtain calls. Each and every one of them were richly deserved. I would like to hear him perform with the Utah Opera again someday.

Puccini is in my head. I'll probably dream it tonight. And if I'm lucky, tomorrow night, too.