radiant fracture

I went to an opera the other day. It was that delightfully casual; argus_in_tights called an hour before the show to say that geniusoutlaws had a ticket begging, so I threw on something glamourous and swanned off to be transported.

About ten years ago, in one of my random attempts to become Cultured, I read an entire encyclopaedic book on the history of opera. I immediately forgot its entire contents. I remember nothing except thinking vaguely that I would probably like the works of Richard Strauss.

Fortunately, Pacific Opera Victoria cares about me, and they are in the midst of staging Daphne. I felt like I'd been handed a beautiful picture-book, its pages made of music.

Strauss has taken a minimal Greek myth, yet another "God tries to assault a nymph, she runs away, he turns her into something immobile," creation story, and made it into an evocation of psychological distress -- alienation from one's community, fear of adulthood. It is Daphne's conflicted desires, not Apollo's will, that are the heart of the opera, and her final transformation is a kindness rather than a punishment.

( Dionysian revels, sensitive nervous systems, and giggling at satyrs )

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