Where
were you last Sunday night at 9 PM? Or
for that matter, the last four Sunday nights?
If you are like millions of other Americans, you were mesmerized by the
PBS program on your television set, “Downton Abbey.” This British soap opera style import is now
in its fourth season, appearing on Sunday nights beginning in January and
lasting for about seven weeks to the middle of February. It has been so popular that some airlines
have a travel special to London in early Fall for those fans who just can’t
wait until January and want an early look at the fictional activities of an aristocratic
English family during a period just before and after World War 1. You may ask if I watch this stuff. Of course I do, don’t you? I’m hooked.
I haven’t missed an episode in four years. Many years ago, in my working days, I timed
my lunch hour to coincide with a very popular soap of the time, “As the World
Turns.” I thought it was pretty
entertaining and Anita and I watched it for several years. I’m not up on the latest daytime offerings
but the last ones that I saw should be reserved for the late night time slots. Most would have to receive a PG-13 rating in
the least if they were shown in movie theaters.
“As the world turns” wasn’t like that back in the days when we were
watching. Nor is “Downton Abbey”
although on one or two occasions a warning that “viewer discretion is advised”
has been issued. In an earlier
“Ramblings” article, I talked about radio soaps back when I was a boy growing
up in the Rock House on Red Lane. We
always listened to “One Man’s Family” every Saturday night and on rare
occasions, I would catch my mom tuned into “Ma Perkins,” which came on every
weekday afternoon. Soaps have been
around a long time. Now, this issue of
Ramblings is not intended to be about “soaps” but instead about (drumroll,
please!!) Opera. Now I am still in the
kindergarten phase of my opera intelligence.
Back when I was a boy, I remember the performances from the Metropolitan
Opera in New York that came on the radio on Saturday afternoon, particularly
those high, soprano sounds in some unknown foreign language. Then, some years later, Anita and I, along
with Dr. John and Betty, attended a performance of the well- known opera,
“Carmen”, in Memphis. Now, there are no
“speaking parts” in an opera. Every word
is sung. In the case of “Carmen,” the
words were sung in French, the language of the composer, Bizet, who penned the
opera in 1875. We were provided with a
libretto (English translation) of this musical composition and tried to follow
as best we could to the action that was taking place on the stage. It was the first and only opera that I have
ever attended but I will never forget the beautiful, haunting aria “Habanera”
or the “Toreador Song.” A few weeks ago,
I was watching episode No. 2 of Downton Abbey.
In this episode, the family is throwing a big party for several
important invited guests and, for the evening’s entertainment, they have
brought in a famous soprano from Australia.
Imagine my surprise when she sang a beautiful aria by Puccini, “O Mio
Babbino Caro.” (You can enjoy six
different renditions of this aria on Youtube; check it out). I accompanied Fredericka on the piano when
she sang this, and other arias, in a program several years ago at the community
center. More recently, I recognized it
as the background music on a car commercial on TV. At the memorial service for my good friend
and mentor, Tom* Johns, those attending were treated to several operatic
selections, some of which I am sure they had heard the melodies before, not
knowing they were operatic. I had
encouraged Tom* to write more about his career in the opera business in his
“Tenoring” column, but he never did. Too
bad. I’ll really miss his humor, his
knowledge on just about any subject, his tenor voice in the church choir, his
phone calls and e-mails, his love of the Ozarks and birds and cooking and
fishing, and….all at once, I’m really lonely.
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