festival time

Hi from France - I'm in Aix-en-Provence for the month, playing at one of the world's largest opera festivals. My production is of Handel's most popular opera, Acis and Galatea, written on a pastoral, mythological theme. Acis is a shepherd, Galatea a nymph. They've seen one another before the opera begins and spend the first few arias talking about their love, and trying to find each other. They're reunited, and sing a couple lovey-dovey arias - "Love in her eyes sits playing", and "Happy we". But alas, "no joy shall last" - Polyphemus the Cyclops sees Galatea and falls in love with her ("O ruddier than the cherry, O sweeter than the berry"), then pursues her. Acis stands up to the monster and is killed when Polyphemus hits him on the head with a rock. Galatea is heartbroken, but uses her powers to give her lover immortal life, as a spring - the source of a river. (Here is a link to the libretto.)

The venue is in the middle of the countryside, at the site of a derelict stone house; the stage is attached to the side of the building, and is in the open air. Behind the stage is a big field, with several disused ponds and stands of trees. This is a shot of the stage from the field. Below, a terrible picture of Galatea on stage, with dusk and trees in the background:

 

looking past the side of the stage, to the field; and

 

a view of the continuo section, with the stage above/behind them.

It gets quite cold at night here, and can be very windy, so many layers of clothes are necessary. More layers even than I brought, so sometime this week I'll do some searching for one more long-sleeve black thing for the concerts. If I can't find anything I may end up wearing my black raincoat during performances.

The music is really, really nice. It's clear why the opera has remained popular for the past (nearly) 300 years. Handel was born in 1685, the same year as Bach, also in Germany, and after many years of schooling, traveling, and working in many different places in Europe, he settled in England, and in fact became a naturalized English citizen. That's why so many of his pieces are in English - this opera, and of course works like the Messiah. The longer I live in Europe, and work and travel throughout the continent, I understand how old this tradition is, and how many peripatetic musicians there have been throughout the centuries. In many ways I think it must be at least similar now to how it was in Handel's time, in that you follow the work through the different countries, and meet an international crowd of musicians doing the same thing. It's nice, actually, to find myself inside that tradition.

Wretched lovers, view from the pit.

Aix-en-Provence is a charming town around 30 km from the sea. Marseille is the closest big town. It has a well-preserved old center, and while many of the shops are geared towards tourists, it seems overall to be focused on pleasant summer living. Cafés in squares, plane trees, restaurants everywhere. A big Saturday market, with perfect ripe nectarines, fresh goat cheese, gorgeous olives. Beautiful bread. Did I mention that it's nice here? I'm staying with five other members of the orchestra in a house just outside the city center, it's got a pool (!) and plenty of space to lounge around. With the big backyard and stone floors it feels like some kind of villa. In the backyard we've got a fig tree (nearly ripe), olive trees, a pomegranate bush, lavender, rosemary, and some small palms. The only downside I've found so far are the hordes of mosquitoes waiting to bite me any time I let down my guard - the first night I got bitten on my eyelid, and had to spend the first rehearsal (Hi everyone, I'm Megan, don't mind my half-closed eye) squinting at the music and trying not to scratch my face. Little jerks. I've bought a fan, though, and started wearing bug spray to bed, and that's helped.

Everyone is really nice. The orchestra is an extremely friendly bunch of people, I'm among the oldest but not out of place. I think the youngest is 21. The singers, too - occasionally charmingly obnoxious, but very very nice. Yesterday we had a wildly successful party at the house and most of the people from our production came over. Nothing like a pool and a bunch of bottles of rosé to make a good party. By the end we were dancing in the living room to French radio.

I'm looking forward to the beginning of the productions. The rehearsal schedule has been really long and taxing; on Saturday, and also today, we rehearse at the outdoor venue until 12:30 AM. Goodness me, I'm not used to this schedule. The opera is only an hour and a half long, so once the run begins we'll be done at 11 every night. Fortunately we rarely have anything during the day, so it's possible to sleep as much as we need. There are a number of other interesting operas up this week, and we have the chance to attend dress rehearsals for free. I'm planning on going to see The Nose, an opera by Shostakovich, based on a Gogol story, directed by the South African artist William Kentridge, who also helped with set design and created videos to accompany the production. (Link to a NY Times article about it.)

Well. This post seems to be going on forever. I'll add a few more pics and leave it at that.

 

snowing prettily

Right now, actually.  Big fluffy flakes, and enough of them to seem dramatic.  The last time I saw this much snow was on stage during a performance of the Nutcracker.  It's nearly sad to think I won't be doing my annual 10 services of that; I'll even miss it.  I am, of course, onto a new phase of my life; here in Europe, you get multiple performances of Bach's Weihnachtsoratorium, the Christmas Oratorio.  My first will be in Winterthur in a couple weeks.  It seems long.  I'll let you know how it goes.

I took this picture yesterday as I rode the train to Zurich, for a Bach B-Minor Mass at the Tonhalle.  It's a truly great hall.  It also has some truly impressive chandeliers.  And I think this photo gives you a good idea of the size and general feel of the hall.  Not huge, but with a certain warmth and quality. 

Ah, before I forget, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  A group of Americans here in Basel had a nice dinner, it was just like any family gathering--people unwittingly acting out their roles as the crazy uncle, the bossy older sister, the mildly annoyed cousin.  There was a turkey (which had been draped with bacon prior to baking; apparently it was especially flavorful) and gravy, two kinds of stuffing (one vegetarian), three salads, two kinds of mashed potato, and for desert, three pies: apple, pecan, and pumpkin, with vanilla ice cream and hand-whipped cream.  I ate too much apple pie (couldn't stop) and quickly transformed into the annoyed cousin until, several hours later, I became less physically uncomfortable.  I would have laid down on the floor but it didn't seem appropriate.

The night before I had had my first ever raclette, which is a Swiss "recipe" that calls for pouring melted cheese over boiled potatoes.  The complicated part comes when you're actually melting the cheese; there's a device that looks like a parking garage plus a grill that you plug in and set on the table.  It's got these shovel-like scoops that you fill up with cheese, then slide into their parking spots, under the heating element, which melts the cheese.  On the top of the garage you can - what, grill? toast? sear? who knows - put - different things like zucchini and mushrooms, or better yet, bacon and ham, to get cooked, which can then be draped over your melty cheesey potatoes.  It's important to have white wine on hand so that the cheese doesn't turn into a hard lump in your stomach.

What I mean to convey here is that I'm really porking up.  Watch out, folks, the next Megan you see may be a real fatty.  Prepare yourselves.  On the other hand, I do so much running around with a bass that I must be (at least partially) offsetting my fat intake. 

At any rate, I'll have to watch it because it looks like I'll be having some beach time in southern France this summer.  Turns out that audition went well, and I got accepted to the festival.  Heyy!  Maybe I'll be able to make it through this long, cold winter after all, by imagining the month I'll spend in hot, sunny Aix-en-Provence.  Here's what Cézanne had to say about the area: "I go to the country every day. The scenery is beautiful, so my days pass more pleasantly here than anywhere else."  Sweet.