A Night at the Opera

(photo credits: Sarah Coburn as the title role in Lucie de Lammermoor at Glimmerglass Opera)

Betrayal. Love. Faithfulness. Honor. Murder. Who says opera is boring? Anyone who would utter that blasphemous statement has obviously never been to an opera - not this one anyway.

Last night, Michael and I had the pleasure of attending Boston Lyric Opera's first production of it's "Diva Season," Lucie de Lammermoor. This French adaptation of the original Lucia di Lammermoor is just as powerful and heartbreaking as the original. While it was a bit strange to hear the old familiar melodies of Donizetti's original Italian arias sung with French words instead, the actors onstage coupled with the strong artistic choices made by the stage directors and costume designers present an operatic tour de force that even those against opera in any form would be amazed by it.

The story is dramatic, in true operatic fashion. Henri Ashton is the heir of his family, and risks losing the family honor unless he can arrange a politically advantageous marriage between his sister, Lucie, and Arthur Bucklaw, a nobleman. However, Lucie wants nothing to do with Arthur, as she is hopelessly in love with Edgard Ravenswood, a man from a family that has long been rivals with the Ashton family.

Edgard and Lucie surreptitiously meet in order to make their betrothal, and they exchange rings along with the undying vow to always love and be true to each other. Edgard immediately must go to France for political reasons, but Lucie begs him not to leave her. She fears that something terrible will happen if they separate. Edgard assures Lucie of his love and eternal faithfulness to her, and the two part ways.

Three months later, Edgard has still not returned, and Henri is growing impatient with Lucie's refusal to marry Arthur. Out of patience at last, Henri devises a plan with the huntsman Gilbert that will make Lucie believe Edgard has been unfaithful to her. Gilbert makes a copy of the ring Lucie gave to Edgard and gives it to Henri. In a last attempt to convince Lucie that she still has the chance to be happy, Henri shows the tearful Lucie that he has found her ring, discarded along the road. Lucie is heartbroken, believing that her beloved Edgard has broken the vow they made together.

In her vulnerable emotional state, Henri is able to convince (and slightly threaten) Lucie to marry Arthur instead. Too weak and devastated to argue further, Lucie grudgingly is led to the marriage altar. However, as soon as the wedding contract is signed, Edgard returns. He proclaims his undying love for Lucie, and shows her the ring he has kept on his finger. Lucie comes undone, as the priest, Raymond, shows Edgard that Lucie now belongs to another man. Edgard is destroyed by her faithlessness and curses her. At this time the audience is fortunate enough to hear the famous sextet at the end of the second act. Lucie is begging Arthur and Henri to show mercy to Edgard as they attempt to kill him, the priest is begging for the men to not shed blood, and Edgard is throwing curses out upon both Lucie and Henri.
At the beginning of the third act, after the actors have been given a break from the tremendous amount of singing they have already done, the curtain opens to the chorus joyfully singing about the happy marriage (they must have been asleep during the vengeful sextet!). The priest, Raymond, then appears and he is visibly upset. He tells the shocked crows that Lucie has gone out of her mind and killed Arthur upon arriving in the bridal chamber.

Lucie appears in a white gown. Her hair is disheveled and she carries blood red rose petals in her arms. She is obviously delusional, and she sings of how the heavens and stars are jealous of her happiness and her shared love with Edgard. The chorus and the priest watch in pity as Lucie sings her famous "Mad Scene," in which soprano and flutist engage in an unbelievable act of coloratura that leaves the audience on the edge of their seats or, in my case, sitting silently with tears streaming down their faces. Lucie finally collapses with exhaustion amidst the rose petals.
In the next scene, a distraught Edgard is found among the tombs of his ancestors. He sings an aria about the breaking of his heart at seeing his beloved Lucie enter into a marriage contract with Arthur. He comes to the tragic conclusion that he does not want to live with the knowledge that his love belongs to another, and, just as he decides that life is not worth living, the men's chorus appears with the priest. The priest again has to bear the news of death. Lucie has gone completely out of her mind and perished because of it. Edgard wails with sorrow and swiftly plunges his dagger into himself, proclaiming that the two will be together again in Heaven.

BLO's production of this incredible opera is filled with not only unbelievably talented singers, but also strong visual and symbolic choices that further portray Lucie's solitary plight in this world full of men. The men are all portrayed as huntsman, and the symbol of the deer running from the hunter is used several times. The women are dressed alike as well in bustling dresses of a deep, blood red color. As Edgard makes the decision to end his life, the hunters surround him carrying antlers - the hunters have conquered the hunted. But in the end, it is a solitary woman that hands Edgard the dagger. This is a powerful choice made by the creative team, as it shows that, while the hunters (Henri, Gilbert, Arthur) have captured their prey, the hunted (the women, Lucie) hand them the tools responsible for their own deaths.

This is an extremely powerful production that you should not miss if you live in the Boston area; this opera is one that should not ever be missed, whether it be presented in French of it's original Italian form. I encourage opera lovers as well as those who disdain the craft to take any opportunity to see this incredible opera.