Pagliacci, Part 2 (Dress Rehearsal)

Live performances are the most exhilarating and challenging photography opportunities for me.  Unlike landscape photography, where the scene changes only minute-by-minute, event photography consists of scenes that change in an instant -- half a second too soon or too late and you miss the key moment.

Consequently, I look forward to photographing the dress rehearsals for the productions of our regional opera company, Opera Southwest, every spring and fall.

As I noted in my previous post, this spring's production was "Pagliacci."  Singers of the principal roles included

Raul Melo as Canio . . .

Cammy Cook as Nedda, wife of Canio . . .

Carlos Archuleta as Tonio (in love with, but rejected by, Nedda) . . .

and Paul Bower as Silvio (Nedda's secret lover).

And the live orchestra featured the first woman conductor for an OSW production:  Zoe Zeniodi.

To recap the plot . . .

It's a love triangle complicated by an extra player (love quadrangle?) who is both fool and manipulator.  The husband (Canio), wife (Nedda), and fool (Tonio) are all members of a traveling troupe who perform a comedic play-within-the play about an unfaithful wife and clueless husband.

In the world outside the interior play, however, things aren't so funny.  Nedda is in love with Silvio who wants her to elope with him.  

Tonio is in love with Nedda . . .

but she rejects him and things get violent.

Tonio sees Nedda and Silvio together 

and brings Canio to see for himself . . .

Silvio escapes; Canio confronts Nedda, who refuses to identify her lover, and threatens her with a knife.  

But Tonio persuades Canio to relent, and convinces him that her lover will probably be in the audience and will give himself away during the performance of the comedy.

At the end of Act I, Canio sings the closing aria,"vesti la giubba" ("put on the costume"), as he puts on his makeup for the role of Pagliaccio (the clown), and the jealous, angry Tonio looks on.

The aria is regarded as one of the most moving in the operatic repertoire, exemplifying the "tragic clown" smiling on the outside but crying on the inside.  


                                                            Put on the costume, the powder and the paint:
                                                the people pay and want to laugh.

                                                Change all your tears and anguish into clowning:                                          
                                                and into a grimace your sobbing and your pain...
                                                Laugh, Pagliaccio, at your shattered love!
                                                Laugh at the sorrow that has rent your heart!

                                                                                                - / - / - / - / - / - / -


The ultimate confrontation and resolution occurs in Act II via the play-within-the play which runs off the rails.  Needless to say, things end badly.

The townspeople gather to watch the troupe perform the comedy, and Nedda (as Colombina in the play) passes the hat for donations while Tonio keeps an eye on her.

The play begins, and Nedda/Colombina tells the audience that her husband is out drinking, and she is waiting for a visit from her lover.

Shenanigans ensue, involving Colombina; Harlequin (her lover in the play); and Taddeo (real-life rejected suitor Tonio).

 

Taddeo bursts in to say that Pagliaccio, her husband, is on his way, and, in classic farce mode, everybody scrambles.

Eventually, Canio/Pagliaccio loses it, rips off his hat and collar, and breaks character, singing "No, Pagliaccio non son" ("No, I am not Pagliaccio").

They argue . . .

and Nedda/Colombina tries valiantly to pretend that this is all just part of the play . . .

but Canio/Pagliacci has had enough.  He pulls a knife . . .

and the audience, including Silvio, knows something is terribly wrong . . .

Canio grabs Nedda and stabs her . . .

Silvio rushes to help her, but it's too late . . .

and Canio isn't done yet . . .

 

In this production, Tonio gets the last line:  "La commedia è finita!"

If you would like to see these images (and more) in a larger format, please visit my photography website, Todos Juntos Photography, by clicking here.


Enjoy!

Pagliacci, Part 1 (Publicity Shoot)

Spring and fall are "opera season" for our regional opera company, Opera Southwest.  As I have noted before in this blog, I am not a big opera fan, but as the volunteer official photographer for OSW, I have the opportunity to exercise my photography skills in a setting that is simultaneously challenging and rewarding (and VERY different from landscape photography).  You can see earlier posts about previous OSW productions I have photographed here, here, and here.

OSW's production this spring was "Pagliacci," by Ruggero Leoncavallo.  The opera premiered in Milan in 1892; came to the U.S. in early 1893; and although initially greeted by mixed reviews has become a staple of the opera repertoire ever since.

The plot is familiar:  a love triangle complicated by an extra player (love quadrangle?) who is both fool and manipulator.  The husband, wife, and fool are all members of a traveling troupe who perform a comedic play-within-the play about an unfaithful wife and clueless husband.

In the world outside the interior play, things aren't so funny.  The wife is in love with another man who wants her to elope with him.  The fool is in love with the wife but is rejected.  The fool sees the wife and her lover and tells the husband, who confronts his wife, who refuses to identify her lover.  The resolution is postponed by the scheduled performance -- because the show must go on -- and the cuckolded husband sings the closing aria for Act I, "vesti la giubba" ("put on the costume") while he puts on his makeup for the role of Pagliaccio (the clown).  The aria is regarded as one of the most moving in the operatic repertoire, exemplifying the "tragic clown" smiling on the outside but crying on the inside.

The ultimate confrontation and resolution occurs in Act II via the play-within-the play which runs off the rails.  Needless to say, things end badly.

As a photographer, I had two opportunities to capture all this:  (1) a publicity photo shoot and (2) the dress rehearsal performance ten days later.  I will post narrative and images from the dress rehearsal in the next post.

The publicity shoot is for the benefit of the Albuquerque Journal, which always runs an article about the new production.  The shoot is typically directed by the Journal photographer and the opera director, and for most of it I am shooting over the photographer's shoulder. 

From photo shoot for "Il Turco in Italia" (March 2016)

The Journal photographers I have shot with have always been very gracious and will often step aside to give me an unobstructed view after they've gotten what they need.  But I understand I'm the guest in this situation and have limited time and opportunity to shoot and/or direct.

This time, however, the photographer was delayed for over an hour past the scheduled start time, so I had the singers all to myself, with the help of the director.  Now . . . remember my previous posts about "stretching my comfort zone" (here) and working with models (here)?  Suddenly, the experience of those two workshops came into play!  You never know when some unrelated thing you learn will be valuable later in another setting.

First, a few standard set-ups requested by the opera director . . .

This one was supposed to show Pagliaccio looking in the mirror while putting on his makeup and singing the famous aria . . .

. . . but to me it looked like he was crying about something on his iPhone.



 
After that I was on my own.  Mostly I shot candids . . .

. . . and some ideas just didn't work . . .

. . . but one did:

I don't claim these to be my best work ever, but I am proud of them because I was flying solo and got some good images -- with the help, of course, from the singers themselves.

NEXT:  The dress rehearsal performance.