Last time took eight to see “Turandot” by Puccini. Fairly full theater. People came up to us with tears in their eyes (I am not making that up) to express how much they appreciate young people coming to see the opera.
This time we had eleven. Theater was packed. And quite a few young people – children and college age. Why was “Carmen” even more popular than “Turandot”? Our international friends said “‘Carmen’ is very famous!” I saw more people from University Baptist Church this time.
To be honest after the first half hour I was a bit embarrassed. “Uh oh. Wonder what our Chinese friends are thinking. Wonder if they wish they had not come. Very very different from ‘Turandot’”. The opening songs are about soldiers hanging around and pawing at Micaela (Barbara Frittoli) and leering at the cigarette girls who sit around wiping sweat from their half-exposed bodies. Real high drama there.
And then you get Carmen (Elena Garanca – whom I saw also in Rossini’s “La Cenerentola”). With cleavage and at least one leg showing at all times. Who is seriously bad news.
If you want her then she does not want you. If you do not want her then she wants you. And if she wants you better watch out!
Si je t’aime, si je t’aime prend garde a toi!
Our humble soldier Don Jose (Roberto Alagna) – who already has a girlfriend – unfortunately attracts the attention of Carmen who trains her wiles on him like a laser beam. Dude you are so dead. It does not take long before Don Jose is making out with Carmen and letting her escape from arrest and planning to get together with her later at a resort.
What the heck is this opera about?!? At first glance it seems dirty and sleazy and slutty. Not at all like “Turandot” in which the passionate love of Calaf breaks through the cold cruelty of the princess Turandot – all very noble virtuous and glorious. This is about a respected soldier and good son with a nice girlfriend who throws it all away because some hot temptress hands him a flower.
Speaking of “love is like a bird”. The first act talks a lot about love – l’amour. But it does not seem to be about love so much as desire or shall we say lust. “I love you” seems to mean not much more than “you’re cute and I want to have sex with you”.
So what is going on here? What is Bizet trying to say? Who – or should we say what – exactly is Carmen?
There are several different approaches I would suggest.
The first is rather simplistic morality play. “Stay away from bad girls”. Something like that. No doubt feminist literary scholars would have something to say about “the patriarchal warnings against the archetypal temptress” motif – and frankly they would be at least partly right. Don Jose has a nice girlfriend who goes to church brings him letters from his momma and won’t even kiss him on the lips. Along comes the hot hussy Carmen with her blazing unrestrained sexuality. Before you know it Don Jose is hanging out with bandits and breaking his momma’s heart and strangling said hussy and getting executed. Bad bad bad. Sort of “Reefer Madness” meets “Fatal Attraction”.
(Yeah I don’t know where that came from either.)
Maybe. But that seems too simplistic.
At one point it suddenly hit me just who or what Carmen is.
Freedom.
She sings about “I will live free or die free”. She represents perhaps the freedom to throw off the constraints of law responsibility and commitment. Don Jose is not just a guy – he is a soldier. He obeys orders and enforces the law. He does not just go off with Carmen – he becomes a bandit. He leaves behind society with its laws and regulations. Perhaps that helps explain the famous habanera “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle”:
Love is a rebellious bird… He has never known law. If you don’t love me I will love you. If I love you – you better watch out!
Carmen will not be imprisoned – no handcuffs or jail for her! Don Jose spends time in jail because he sets her free – but what gets him through that time is the flower Carmen gave him. If you do not love freedom – then freedom will come hunting for you. And if freedom comes after you – better watch out! Don Jose will not live without freedom (Carmen). The opera seems largely about freedom and the desire for freedom.
I will not suggest that freedom is unambiguously good in the opera. What happens when the desire for freedom means you reject duty and obedience and commitment? Freedom yes – but balanced with responsibility and self-control? Perhaps the opera also explores the ambiguity of freedom.
There is another theme which has to do with ethnicity and class. Sure we may fault Carmen for being the temptress. But she is not just a woman. She is a gypsy. A member of an ethnic group – the Roma(ny) – that even today is considered outcast and undesirable in Europe. How else will these people fight back against a (Spanish European) society that rejects them and marginalizes them? Can we blame them when they turn to (a) sex and (b) crime to get what they want – or need? And how noble are these “white” Europeans who are quite happy to get their booze and cigarettes and sex and black market goods from gypsies? And who think torturing and killing bulls is somehow more noble and civilized? Is not the final act with its parade of the different kinds of bullfighter a kind of satire? How silly!
Toreador, toreador!
And notice how the toreador desires and wins Carmen – and transforms her into a proper Spanish lady. Carmen has gone from marginalized outcast gypsy to accepted member of Spanish high society. (I am reminded of how the prostitute civilizes Enkidu in the Epic of Gilgamesh – but cannot quite make the connection.)
One last theme. Fate and free will. This is particularly evident when Don Jose and Carmen are with the bandits in the mountains. Two of the woman consults the cards to find out their fortunes. Wealth and fame. Sounds great. So does Carmen. Death and death. She knows ahead of time that Don Jose will kill her. And no matter how many times she turns the cards the result is the same. Death and death.
Oddly enough she seems resigned to this. “Oh well. Nothing I can do. The cards say I am going to die. Guess I better just follow the script to its end”. She convinces herself that she does not have the freedom – free will – to make different choices and change course. In a way she brings about the very “fate” she fears. One is reminded of how Voldemort creates his own downfall in the Harry Potter books because he is obsessed with a misunderstood prophecy.
So perhaps there are many different themes and issues that drive the opera – all at the same time. Women and sexuality. Race and class. Freedom and its ambiguity. Fate and free will.
Okay – enough about the opera. What about the performance?
Outstanding of course. The music was energetic and delightful. The acting solid. The singing exceptional. And the pas de deux (sp?) that opened each act masterful. I did find the physicality of the performance a bit distracting. Woman getting pawed and groped. Don Jose lying down on Carmen whose legs are spread wide. Pushing hitting fighting. Even Rene Fleming commented and asked if the singers felt bruised after their performance.
The sets were a bit drab but otherwise brilliant – giant rotating circular walls?!? Now it’s a jail… now it’s a town square. Now it’s a town square… now it’s the inside of a bullfighting ring. Amazing. Clearly only the best work for the Met.
My favorite part by far was when Rene Fleming was interviewing Escamillo (performed by… don’t seem to have his name available). Apparently the bass performer was sick and this guy got a call that morning at like 10:00 a.m. “Hey um we need you to sing Escamillo at the Met today”. You could not tell this man had filled in on such short notice. That alone earns my respect.
Even better she asked how he became an opera singer. Well apparently he used to be a certified accountant in his native New Zealand. Around age 30 or 31 decided he wanted to sing opera. Gotta love it. We all had a good laugh.
“I’m sick of this pastoring gig. Think I’ll join the opera”.
Toreador, toreador! L’amour t’attend!
Hey. A guy can dream.
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