Last Friday I attended my first opera by the NYC Opera company, a rendition of Puccini's Madama Butterfly. A tale of a clash of cultures, it made me feel like I had parallel universed that when I relocated to Japan. Although I wasn't lucky enough to go by the name of Butterfly, or Cho Cho san, I'm quite happy with the results of my fine geisha training. In the end I was able to don a kimono, sing karaoke, and use a fude to draw beautiful hiragana script. See for yourself.
But I digress. Seeing Madama Butterfly was a fabulous experience. Although I am not a huge opera fan, for obvious reasons I had been wanting to experience this opera for a while now. I remember when Minghella's production of the opera made tides at the Met.
The costumes and sets and innovation made me more interested in the opera itself. But, alas, I was still in Japan at that time completing my own geisha training and I had to miss it.
While it wasn't the Minghella vision, the NYC Opera version was still beautifully sung - even if the sets weren't spectacular. Watching Cho Cho san's ideals and identity clash with Pinkerton's reminded me of being with the mama san in Kyoto and the difficulty of adapting to a tradition that was so steeped in Nihon, or Japan, but was totally foreign to me, an outside geisha. Nostalgia overcame me as the first act came to a close and the lights in the house came up for intermission. Then the clash of cultures happened again, so unexpectedly in real life. •º•º || •º•º.
Tucked way in the middle of the orchestra, Diva and I had to brush past a good few people to exit at intermission. After finally spilling out into the end of the row, Diva told me about the snobby comments about out behinds.
Diva: Did you hear that?!
Me: No, what happened?
Diva: Someone said, "How rude these people are giving us their backs as they exit!" I cannot believe these purao!
In all my experience of exiting crowded aisles, I have always thought it best to give someone your butt and not your crotch. But apparently that is my geisha training in effect. And as for "these people", I have no clue what that meant. Did this guy think it was and interactive version of Madama Butterfly and we were his demure human property? Was that my Pinkerton? Maybe he thought this shit was Mr. and Ms. Saigon. Cats? I'm not sure, but he for sure thought that "these people" should be giving him the decency of crotching him when coming and going. And so I did when I went in. Each and every one, just so they knew I could play the snob games too. This ain't interactive opera folks. I ain't goin out like that.
Bao - suddenly my crotch was in errone's face. Sorry old lady in seat K12. I swear that was just water on my pants.
The moral of the story: Always walk with your ass to the back and your crotch in people's faces so as to not be confused with suicidal Prima Donnas. I'm sure Puccini did it just like that.
1 comment:
Maybe you were really watching Disney's Pochantas or Mulan.
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