Bühnenweihspiel

The stars aligned, and we scored cheapie orchestra seats at the Met, 14th row far left! The opera was Poulenc's "Dialogue des Carmélites" and it was worth sacrificing the fullness of sound we're used to from the Family Circle for a closer view of the singers, who were, of course, all wearing the same costume. I've not seen this opera performed before and it's a curious confection. This production, originally from 1977 (today's was the 64th performance), does wonders with an abstract black and white set, capturing the austerity of Carmelite life and its challenge to the busy colorful world they renounce. In the vast dark cave of the Met's stage, their "dialogues" about faith and pride, calling and ultimately martyrdom seem at once intimate and cosmic. It is a very 20th century French Catholic opera, almost decadent in its renunciations and provocations. The last scene, one of opera's great coups de théâtre, embodies that extravagant asceticism, daring us to believe that the nuns of Compiègne, now dressed colorfully like characters in any historical opera, transcend even art as their voices are cut off by the guillotine. We're left abandoned and yet exalted, having caught a glimpse of the terrifying and glorious reality they inhabit. (Or would be, did not the gaiety of the curtain call follow minutes later. Oh well. Just an opera after all.)