We went to the opera last night to see Puccini’s Manon Lescaut. Mind you, I was stressed all day, I was tired, and I felt like I was spun as tight as a Turkish top, but we were so happy we went. It was one of Puccini’s early operas and there are themes he brings up there that are more fleshed out in his later works. One is the theme of the poor wench, in Manon the case is a whore with a big heart, but he makes that same woman more sympathetic as he goes along, cumulating in Turandot where the woman is the prize. Puccini is probably one of my favorite opera composers of all time. His arias are unlike any others in their ability to take a single moment – when Cio-Cio San believes her fiance has returned, when Calaf says to Princess Turandot that no one will sleep, not even her, because he will win – and raise them to great heights – they are all jewels.
Manon Lescaut (1893)
La bohème (1896)
Tosca (1900)
Madama Butterfly (1904)
Turandot (1926)