The Marriage of Figaro

Last night I had the pleasure of attending Utah Opera's production of Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro, a comical yet profound tale of love, betrayal and forgiveness. I went with my friend, who I call The Ven-I. She and I used to have season opera tickets together. She reminded me that this opera was the first one we saw together nearly ten years ago.

I was first turned on to the opera when I took a Music in Culture class at the University. The professor would elaborate on several of the classics, then would show a clip from a production put on by a huge company, such as the Met. The class left me intrigued. I wanted to see Don Giovanni's deliverance to hell in person.

After I married G, I added him to my season ticket subscription. His attendance to the opera was entirely to fulfill his duties as a good husband and had absolutely nothing to do with his desire {or lack thereof} for art and culture. It wasn't until the production of Julius Caesar did I get much response from G. He is a Caesar fan and actually looked forward to this opera. When the opera opened we were sorely disappointed to discover it wasn't the classic Roman Caesar with togas, scrolls and olive leaf headbands, rather a campy production set in the early 20th century. On top of that, the nearly four hour production far exceeded G's two hour attention span. That was it. G felt his duties as a good husband had been fulfilled, and marked this as the end of our season tickets. Such a tragic ending.

I don't know that I will ever be a season ticket holder again, but I do know that my appreciation for the arts has not waivered. I thoroughly enjoyed the production; the comedy, the love, the music, the set. Bravo!!