“An opera begins long before the curtain goes up and ends long after it has come down. It starts in my imagination, it becomes my life, and it stays part of my life long after I’ve left the opera house.”
~ Maria Callas
By Catherine Austin Fitts
It never occurred to me that I might like the opera. Then, when I lived in New York, I had a lover who loved opera. I ended up with a box at the Metropolitan Opera and a lifelong passion for opera.
While the good times rolled on Wall Street and my partners bought race horses, I saved my money. One exception was that I would stop at Tower Records on my way home from the Met to buy as many opera CD’s as I wanted. I did not own a TV — I had a great stereo system and listened to opera instead.
I now live in a place where the closest opera house is far away. So I make an effort to see opera when I travel.
Last Thursday, I saw Falstaff in Zurich. Zurich’s Opera House is right by the lake. It is beautiful by day and by night. This evening was especially beautiful as we were approaching a full moon. The Zurich Film Festival was also gathering outside on the Sechseläutenplatz.
Falstaff was written by Verdi towards the end of his career. He wanted to do a comedy – and was inspired to borrow the story from Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor. Sir John Falstaff is a drunken knight falling into debased circumstances who sets his eyes on defrauding several local gentlemen by romancing their wives. Everyone gets onto his schemes and organizes to teach Falstaff a lesson.
This production was absolutely marvelous: the singing, performances, orchestra and sets. The evening closed with many curtain calls as the audience expressed its gratitude and appreciation to the artists and conductor and they, in turn, basked in the praise. It was the virtuous circle between those who create and those who enjoy supporting culture in all its many forms.
I stood by the Opera House garage exit as I waited for my taxi and enjoyed an endless series of magnificent German and British cars purr out onto the streets like mechanical leopards and panthers prancing into the moonlight.
While the Zurich Opera House is Swiss, any Verdi opera is, of course, Italian. For me, opera is truly the domain of the Italians. No other culture can touch them – not the French, not the Germans, not the Americans. The Italians are masters at finding and nourishing our love in the midst of the chaos and cruelty of life. People matter. Our feelings matter. Life matters. As my Italian professor once said, “we appreciate what must and should not be!”
In two weeks, I will head to the Amsterdam Opera House to see Il Travatore – also by Verdi.
Stay tuned!