Last night, my niece/friend Melanie and I attended the opera "Lucia di Lammermoor." Melanie teaches humanities at Dixie State and is writing her dissertation for her doctorate on English literature ( I know that's WAY oversimplified, Melanie. Feel free to expound) She is an amazing woman. As we compared notes, we both have been to several operas performed in English (Les Miserables, Phantom, etc) but this was only the second for each of us in Italian. They did subtitles on a small screen above, which helped. The opera started a bit lackluster, but as soon as the soprano Lucia entered the stage, that changed. She was wonderful. She had a magnificent soprano voice. In one scene, she did a a duet with the flute where they "sang" back and forth. Here is what I read about that amazing duet online:
[The popular soprano and flute duet cadenza was composed in 1888 by Mathilde Marchesi for her student Nellie Melba's performance of the role, requiring ten weeks of rehearsal for the new addition and causing a critical reevaluation and surge of new interest in the opera.]
It was absolutely thrilling. When she concluded that part (which she sang mostly in a reclining position), the crowd went wild.
Now, I may have only seen two operas performed in Italian, but I've heard many, many more. Go back with me to my childhood kitchen, where every other Saturday, from an aqua blue radio, we listened to an opera broadcast from the Metropolitan Opera while we did our housework. I have such a glorious picture in my mind of my mother, standing at the ironing board, clutching her chest and looking up in ecstasy when the soprano coming through that little radio did a cadenza with trills and runs, ending on a high C . .. or D. . . or E . .. My mother loved opera. She came by it naturally. Her father, Charles O. Peterson was a fabulous basso singer. Every year, the community of Logan, Utah performed Handel's Messiah. The community would import from New York opera stars to sing the soprano, contralto, and tenor solos, but my grandfather always sang the bass solos. His fellow soloists from New York invited my grandfather (on more than one occasion, if I have the story right) to come to New York with them, assuring him he had a career in opera. I can't wait to ask my grandfather how he felt and what his thought process was in turning them down. I strongly suspect he realized it would be wonderful for him, but not what was best for his family. So, he went on selling shoes (though he hated stinky feet) in his little store in Logan, Utah, and sang and blessed his little community (he sang in over 200 funerals through the years.) What I'm sure he knows now, but didn't know then, is how much he and his talent live on in his posterity. Right down to his latest great-great grandchild, many of his posterity have an innate love for music and the arts. We feel something well up from inside of us when we hear beautiful music (just as my mom did when she heard that opera singer) or see a glorious painting or read a great book, and we think it's just us. As I'm around others, I realize they don't have that innate reaction, and I realize there is something different in me. It is part of our heritage, and may be even a nudge from Grandpa on the other side. He's saying, "This is good stuff. Pass it on." We're fulfilling his destiny. I know music and the arts are one my core values. They are a huge part of who I am, and I spend much of each week immersed in the pursuit of the arts and in helping others feel that "nudge," that joy. I think of Grandpa and Mom often as I am singing or teaching or playing or leading. I keep a little picture of my mom on my piano ( the piano I inherited from her) to remind me of her influence. So, posterity of Charles, next time you feel that "nudge" that inexpressible joy, whisper "Thanks, Grandpa. I'm fulfilling your destiny." And from me, thank you, Grandpa Peterson and Mom. And thank you, Melanie. Let's do it again!
Me singing in the Tabernacle
Dorothy Peterson Gabrielsen: My Mom
Charles O. Peterson with his wife, Libby: My grandparents
7 comments:
I love this post and those wonderful pictures! Thanks for sharing our family's opera story. So what is the date of your Keynote Christmas tabernacle performance this year?
You are a good writer Kay! Thanks for your remembrances. I've always enjoyed the arts, never felt very accomplished at them, but they bring great joy and happiness into my life and into the life of my children and hopefully grandchildren.
Ditto with what my mom says. Music has so much power!! I remember while living in Vienna we saw several AMAZING operas at the Vienna opera house, but we could only afford the Stehplatz (standing room only) tickets so we literally had to stand for the entire 3 or 4 hour opera (never could bring myself to do a Wagner-- those were like 5 or 6 hours), but it was totally worth it!
I love this post, Kay, and it brings back a lot of beautiful memories of Mom AND Dad and their inner feelings about music. Dad used to point to his arms when a gorgeous piece of music was playing and say, "See, I've got goose flesh!" And he did! I also remember many a time when both Mom and Dad's eyes were filled with tears, listening. THAT definitely passed on to me and all of my children! Thanks for making my day with really "Good Stuff" memories!
This brought tears to my eyes. What sweet memories! And I love that pic of grandma gabe, she looks so beautiful.
I just love reading and (re-living some) of your memories. I just visited with Uncle Glenn by phone last month, and we talked about Grandpa singing in the Messiah every year in Logan. Quite a legacy, isn't it.
Wow Kay this is a wonderful post! You have a way with words and you brought back a lot of sweet memories. Whenever I hear certain opera music I am flooded with memories of coming home from school to find mother ironing as she listened to La Traviata or Madame Butterfly. What a great heritage we have!
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