A Masked Ball!

I attended my first Albanian opera last night, a memorable experience to say the least! I love Opera. Getting ready to go to it, reading a libretto, listening to it on a a CD. All aspects are fascinating to me. Before an evening at the opera, I always read the appropriate chapters in my little collection of opera books, try to read the libretto if I have it, and anticipate the set design, the costumes, the staging. I tend to make it a big deal.

So when one of my friends suggested a group of us go to see Verdi's Masked Ball here in Tirana, I was quite ready for it. The tickets, for great seats, are 1,000 Lek, about 10 USD. Not a high price in most cities, but I think a little high for average Albanians. I expected to see some empty seats, but I was wrong and the opera house was full.

We took our seats (I think there were 8 of us), and waited with anticipation for the parting of the curtains. A nice added touch to the evening was the introduction to each act by a very pretty woman, who explained what was about to happen.

The Tirana Opera house is an interesting place. There is nothing ornate about it, no gold paint, no plush seats, and no boxes for VIP's. It's painted a weird sort of reddish-orange, and all-in-all it looks a little shabby. But I do think they are trying to do their best with what they have- probably a tragically low budget. I imagine the budget had something to do with the blast of icy cold air which filled the audience when the curtains opened. We quickly put our coats back on and wrapped ourselves up in our scarves.

Verdi's operas are loved for their dramatic grappling of big issues: church vs. state, parental love, resposibility vs. desire, politics, and so on. For some wierd reason, The Masked Ball is set in Boston, of all places, but any production that I've seen has never been set there, but rather in some non-specific European city. At one point in the opera the soldiers were waving American flags in the background and we caught ourselves giggling. It just seemed so odd.

But the most unforgettable scene in the opera took place in Act II. It takes place out in a field, in the evening, at a gypsy fortune teller's camp. The set was fabulous and very mysterious. As Ulrica, the fortune teller, appears on stage, she is suddenly surrounded by a thick mist. BUT WAIT. Mist? Aha-- dry ice you might think. But nooooo- not in Tirana. In Tirana the mist is actually some kind of burning toxic waste!!!! I kid you not. Suddenly the stage, the orchestra pit, the entire audience, was filled with toxic SMOKE. Perhaps someone thought this would lend an authentic air to the whole event. I don't know. I just know that as the audience gagged and tried in vain to stifle their coughs, our row of ladies quickly wrapped our entire faces with our pashminas (who knew how useful they would turn out to be!) and looked at each other with shocked expressions. It was truly bizarre.

A glass or two of good red wine between acts warmed us up and took away most of our fears. Of course in the next act we were all concerned when the royal guards came marching on stage carrying real torches, burning brightly. Luckily, no disaster ensued, and we breathed a collective sigh of relief.

The last act is really the most beautiful part of the opera visually. It's a great masked ball, full of gorgeous costumes (apparently borrowed from Rome), and full blown choral singing. I was so impressed with the 3 curtain calls that the audience gave the performers, and the hearty applause which showed their honest appreciation for an evening of pleasure.