Opera in the Outfield

Perhaps one of the best artistic ideas I've encountered in a while is the Washington National Opera's "Opera in the Outfield."  If you remember that I live near a baseball stadium (I did mention that, didn't I?), you'll probably be able to piece together what the phrase means.  If, however, you're lazy (I refuse to believe that any of my readers are stupid), I'll put the pieces together for you.

Opera in the Outfield combines two things Americans love - being outside and free stuff - with a third thing more Americans ought to love: opera.  The outfield in this equation is none other than the outfield of Nationals Park, the baseball stadium five minutes from my apartment.   The National Opera had the brilliant idea, three years ago, to put on a free live telecast of the Sunday matinee of their first opera of the season (too many "of's") and, naturally, let people come to see it.  And do they ever.

 So, on a hot, sun-streaked afternoon, I walked over with my married friends from UChicago, K and R, was joined by their friend M, spread blankets on the luscious grass of the outfield (what do they do to it?  It's amazing!) and slathered on some sunscreen to enjoy our front row seats at the opera.  This was out view.

Just to be clear, those black stripes didn't actually appear on the screen - for whatever reason, my phone picked them up.  Probably couldn't handle the sun, now that I think about it.  But what should be noted is the size of that image on the screen, compared to the size of the image you see from the top balcony at the opera house (I haven't been to the Kennedy Center, but I can conjecture).  What I mean to say is that it was a far superior view to anything we could have afforded at the opera house itself, and furthermore, the cameras gave us close-ups that we couldn't have gotten unless we had been in the first few rows of the orchestra.  Surprisingly, the sound quality was quite good as well, so we didn't suffer through static for three hours (longish opera, plus two intermissions).

The opera was Verdi's Un Ballo in Maschera (A Masked Ball) which tells the story of the King of Sweden, madly in love with his advisor (and friend's) wife,  and surrounded by treacherous courtiers who plot to kill him.  When the friend finds out about the king's forbidden affection, what will happen?  (Answer: it's an opera, so there will be dramatic arias, betrayal, bloodshed, and all those other fun things.)  I won't tell you what happens, and I won't link you to Wikipedia either.  If you want a spoiler, you'll have to go get it yourself.  Interestingly, the tenor who sang the role of the king was the same tenor whom I saw sing the title role in Verdi's Ernani back in Chicago last fall (Salvatore Licitra, who is quite good).  Ballo is better than Ernani in that its plot is more believable, but the two share the fate of not having broken into the popular consciousness like some of Verdi's other work (I'm thinking of Aida, of course).  Still, good music, with great visuals, and excellent company, plus the added bonus of being outside in all that glorious sunshine.  Lots of Vitamin D there.  Of course, if one does not apply sunscreen properly, one might end up pink.

Not that I would know anything about that.