I have two wonderful friends in Mark Weinstein and Christopher Hahn, and for the privilege of coming to Pittsburgh Opera performances, all I have to do is write a blog. I get to listen to Maestro Mauceri conduct Mozart, I am granted unfettered access to the floor and backstage, and all I have to do is write this blog. Amazing! (But don't think for one second that I am going to tell them the great deal that I am getting!) I admit it, I am somewhat of a tyro when it comes to opera. Unlike theatre critics and opera aficionados (who know a lot more about opera than I do), I embrace my ignorance, and take each opera I attend as an opportunity to learn. And since I get the rare privilege of being able to photograph what I see and chronicle what I hear, I also get to share that learning with you. What fun!

This past Thursday evening I arrived at the Benedum Center a bit early to photograph the preparations before the performance. But for the sparse set for Act I, the stage is bare, but you can see the bright orange safety cones just in front of the orchestra pit. During a performance one sees a black (but acoustically transparent) screen covering the orchestra (and underneath that is a safety net, in case of a misstep–having a singer crash into the middle of the woodwind section would ruin everyone's evening). But before the performance starts, the cones are there to remind the crew of the pit, and warn them that the black surface it isn't as solid as it looks! During the performance you can see the singers flirting with the edge, one foot close to the abyss (and the balance of their weight safely on their back foot). Since most patrons sit in the balcony, they may not realize the flurry of activity that accompanies a dress rehearsal. Because I was on the floor, I get to show you! There are a quite a few computers (I counted at least four), last minute conferences between directors and crew, a videographer, a staff photographer, runners, note-taking and a few last minute additions to checklists. While the singers must trust their memories, almost everyone else has a cheat-sheet that details what happens when, because during the a performance you don't want to forget to close a door, misplace a prop, or miss a cue. And during the entire dress rehearsal, the cues and script are checked one last time for any errors or omissions. Then the lights go down, the stage manager says "Maestro, you may begin", and we're off!

The set is minimalistic, and that is an interesting directorial choice. In "set pieces" (those operas that have lavish sets), the set plays an integral role in the opera. They provide jumping off points and accents to accentuate the singers and the music, and fill your eyes with a majestical view (Tosca and La Traviata were two recent examples). They awe us with their grandeur, and turn "mere music" in to a spectacle that feasts our eyes in addition to our ears. But for Cosi Fan Tutte, the set is white and spare, and almost all of the cast is clad wholly in white. The backdrop is white, the props are white, and the scrims are white (and as you will see, the director makes some interesting use of scrims, with live actors making a fixed background). In fact, except for Despina's occasional black (which, like white, is an absence of color) only Ferrando and Guglielmo (sung by Bruce Sledge and Palle Knudsen) have any color in their costumes. This interesting choice leads to two things:

The first is that lighting is used to greater effect to express mood and texture. Here are two views of the vaunted boat that transports Ferrando and Guglielmo to and from the stage–the first as they initially sail away, and the second as they arrive again later. And since I wrote earlier about being backstage, here is a view of the ship from backstage. You can see that it is merely a silently rolling platform with a mast, and there are stairs located upstage for the singers to embark and debark.

The second thing the spare, white set does is that you get to hear the music. I know, I know–you come to an opera to hear the music, why else would you be there? But without the distractions of the set, of costumes, of regelia, what else is there but to truly hear the music? It has been said by some that Cosi is "only" Mozart's third best opera, but Oh! That my best work could be a fraction as good as this! The music weaves in and out of itself as we listen in wonderment. The interplay between instruments and voices is subtle and profound, and at times I was just dumbstruck.

Now the libretto is a misogynistic 18^th century story (it has earlier origins, I am told). Men gleefully set off to show that women are just as faithless as they are, and then are disappointed when they find out that they are right. Women fall for men's dissembling schemes and lies, and then are ashamed for being disloyal. The men are angry at the women who they deceived, the women somehow fail to be angry that they have been played the fool. So be it! As chillingly real as the story of Tosca is, we all know that we would never fall for the shenanigans and disguises put forth in Cosi Fan Tutte. But like all good farcical comedy, it is nevertheless funny and provides a wonderful backdrop to Mozart's music.

And as a scientist, I found it interesting that Lorenzo da Ponte's libretto pokes fun at Franz Anton Mesmer, a famous contemporary. Mesmer (who proposed the notion of animal magnetism and the eponymous mesmerism), pioneered work that eventually led to the development of modern-day hypnosis. Even more interesting then, that Ferrando and Guglielmo (with the aid of Don Alfonso and Despina, sung by James Maddalena and Sari Gruber) use dissimulation, deception, mild brainwashing and legerdemain to sway Fiordiligi and Dorabella (sung by Carolyn Betty and Sandra Piques Eddy) from their paths of fidelity and loyalty. At first Fiordiligi admirably resists Ferrando (while Dorabella begins to succumb to the wiles of Guglielmo). Eventually both women fall prey to their betrothed's best friend (but the actual infidelity is left offstage and to our imaginations).

Of course, you can't have your cake and eat it, too. So while Ferrando and Guglielmo are at first amused by the progress they are making with their quarries, ultimately they are both unhappy with the results, as the reality of what they have done sinks in. But there is ultimately a wedding and a happy ending, so all is well in this light opera. Don Alfonso is gentleman enough to pay Despina for her work, but also a sufficient gentleman not to collect on the bet he has won with Ferrando and Guglielmo.

But really, this opera is fun! Not just an occasional smile, but genuine laughs. Despina is funny, and her laugh in Act I is infectious, and when I spoke with a few friends at intermission, they all agreed. She has a pair of disguises, the first as the doctor with an errant beard, and then again later as the notary. In this latter disguise, her vocal gymnastics were very impressive, and her facial expressions would give Carol Burnette a run for her money.

All of the singers in this opera are virtuosi, but none of them are the star. I mean that as a high compliment! Surely, when called upon in the arias and duets, each can hold their own. But when singing in the various trios, quartets, and quintets and sextets, the orchestra and voices blended beautifully, as Mozart spun magical knots that tie and untie themselves before our ears. I marvelled at the exquisite give-and-take of focus, as singers came to the fore and then again faded into harmonies. Nowhere (to plagiarize a title from Karl Haas) was there a din of inequity. The singers were obviously comfortable enough with themselves and the others to both hear and be heard. I was lost in a whirlpool of song.

It is also apparent from the smiles at the curtain call that singing and acting in Cosi Fan Tutte is fun as well. Please, take my advice: Go see Cosi!