By Dorothea Shefer-Vanson
MEVASSERET ZION, Israel — Many years ago, when Yigal and I still had enough energy to contemplate driving to Tel Aviv to attend an evening performance of an opera and then face the drive back to Mevasseret Zion, we took a subscription to four or five operas each season. Thus, we were able to enjoy the wonderful performances put on by the Israeli Opera, which included all the best-known and beloved operas of all time.
But time has taken its toll, and the effort of getting to and from Tel Aviv late at night has become too much for us (we are both now over eighty, after all), and regretfully we had to stop our subscription a few years ago.
But then something good happened. The local pensioners’ club, Magash, which runs a wide range of activities for seniors living in Mevasseret Zion, introduced something new, namely, a bus laid on to take members to and from Friday afternoon performances of operas. We learned of this opportunity while we were on holiday abroad, but decided to accept the offer without hesitation. After all, what could be better than being able to enjoy the opera without the hassle of travelling there and back under our own steam?
When the date of the first of the four operas for which we had registered came up, we were told to be at a certain bus-stop at a certain time, allowing plenty of leeway for coping with the traffic, getting to the Opera House in time to hear the preliminary talk given there and also get a bite to eat in the cafeteria.
But as is often the case, it was easier said than done. To get to the appointed bus-stop meant walking for at least ten minutes, and to get on a local bus with our fancy clothes seemed odd. So we ordered a taxi for the five-minute drive and got to the bus in time.
While we waited for the bus to fill up we were given a fascinating study in human behavior. Our fellow-passengers, all pensioners living in Mevasseret Zion and almost all unknown to us, were dressed in a motley array of garments. Most of the women, like myself, had made some effort to dress appropriately for a special occasions, though the footwear of very few of them departed from sneakers of some kind, creating a rather incongruous effect.
Most of the men seemed to be retaining their casual wear of everyday, with not a single jacket or tie to be seen. One gentleman caused more than a few raised eyebrows by boarding the bus wearing baggy shorts and sloppy sandals.
But nothing could spoil the thrill of finding ourselves once again outside the imposing Opera Building, entering the spacious vestibule and eventually taking our seats for the performance. The first opera of the season was Henry Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas, with innovative costumes and staging by Italian director Stefano Poda. The music of Purcell was as enchanting as ever, and the choir and soloists did well, but the design of the scenery and the costumes and staging of the choir and soloists – all in shades of black and white – were confusing and often disturbing.
From reading the program notes I understand that Stefano Poda wanted to give the opera a more universal meaning than just a tragic love story, wanting rather to portray the futility of fate and the way world events – irrational wars, natural disasters, things over which we have no control. – determine what happens to humans.
The first scene shows what appear to be naked bodies dancing and writhing for no apparent reason (an orgy?) I found it almost offensive, and I don’t think the Elizabethan audience for which Purcell was writing would have appreciated it. I was not happy with the staging, despite its imaginative nature and the sometimes impressive effects it included. Thus, for example, the sight of the witches emerging from a fiery underground hell in the middle of the stage could well be defined as the highlight of the performance.
Our bus took us comfortably back through the heavy Friday-afternoon traffic and deposited us at the bus-stop from which we had left. There were no more buses to be had, nor were there any taxis as it was nearing Shabbat, so we had to walk home. Next time, it seems, I’ll have to wear sneakers too. But I’m grateful to Magash for giving me the opportunity to enjoy live opera once more.
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Dorothea Shefer-Vanson is an author and freelance writer based in Mevasseret Zion, Israel.