Ask Figaro
The barber of Seville served as a resourceful go-to guy for both Rossini and Mozart. Now he’s doing the same for the Met’s website. Confused about the difference between Baroque and bel canto? Ask Figaro. Have a serious question about the use of leitmotifs to illuminate characters’ interior lives in Wagner’s Ring cycle? Ask Figaro. No question is too simple or too arcane! To submit a question, send an email to figaro@metopera.org.
Q.
Pagliacci is one of my favorite operas, and I plan to see it at the Met this season. One thing about it confuses me, though: Tonio bangs his drum and invites the villagers to the show “a ventitre ore.” He even repeats this a few times, and on high notes, so I know it’s important. Now, I know that translates as “23 hours.” I also know that 23 hours means 11 P.M. Wasn’t that a little late for a clown show to begin? Shouldn’t the kids have been in bed by then?
A.
If that’s the most perplexing question you have about Italian opera, you’re in pretty good shape. A show might well start at 11 P.M. in Madrid, but in rural Calabria? Before electricity? As it turns out, many places in Italy marked time the old-fashioned way until clocks were standardized in the 20th century. And by “old-fashioned,” I mean biblically old-fashioned, as in starting the clock at sunset. “Ventitre ore,” therefore, meant an hour before sunset – a perfectly respectable time for the kids to come to the show and witness a double murder.
Q.
Please explain something to me: when is it considered okay to applaud during an opera? How come sometimes everyone seems to be applauding every two minutes and other times they just sit there? Why does everyone seem to understand all these rules except me?
A.
First of all, there’s no “rule,” and you’re not the only one who has gotten confused over this. Second, getting shushed for clapping at an inopportune moment is sort of a rite of passage at the opera house. Think of it as part of the fun. Some operas are written with separate showpiece-style solos that are meant to exist outside the storyline, while others are not. You’re not expected to know the history of each opera and its historical baggage, however. Here’s a good basic (okay, I’ll say it) rule to go by. If the conductor’s arms are in motion, be still. If he sets the baton down, feel free to applaud and carry on (if you are so inclined). This is not an inviolate rule but rather a good rule of thumb. Some audiences tend to clap at the entrance of a major star; that may be okay at a Broadway show, but at the Met, it’s kind of a no-no. Similarly, clapping for the set when the curtain first opens, though it happens all the time, is a little, well, silly. Occasionally, the audience will “force” an ovation in spite of the conductor’s attempts to preserve decorum. It’s a little bit like Congress overriding a presidential veto, and it’s loads of fun when it happens.
Q.
What should I wear to the opera?
A.
When going to an opera, you should dress comfortably so you can enjoy the experience.
Q.
My fiancé is treating me to a night at the Met, and I don’t know what to wear!!! Do I have to go out and find one of those glasses on a stick that Mrs. Howell used to use on Gilligan’s Island? Please help!
A.
They’re called “lorgnettes,” and they haven’t been spotted at the Met in about 80 years. But, hey, don’t let that stop you. If you feel like making lorgnettes hip again, wielding a set on the Grand Tier would be a great place to start. There’s no formal dress code at the Met. That said, don’t bother with black tie unless it’s a gala, and, on the other hand, if you go for a more casual look, don’t pick that pair of jeans you’ve had since the eighties with the rips in the knees and the safety pins running down the length of each leg. Of course, there’s really no better opportunity to get dressed up than a night at the opera, and there’s no limit to how fabulous you can be, if you’re in the mood to make a splash.
Submit a question of your own to figaro@metopera.org