Opera Betty was on WOMR 92.1 in Provincetown (and on the net at womr.org) for a whole glorious hour of opera-ishness. It may or may not ever happen again.

We started off with Please Kind Sir by Three Redneck Tenors and then charged straight into the world’s most puzzling synopsis of Verdi’s Aida ever heard on air. We played:

Placido Domingo - Celeste Aida
Triumphal March (from “Verdi for Dummies.” Shut up.)
Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu - O terra, addio

And then we shook things up with
Malcolm McLaren - Madam Butterfly
The Manhattan Strings - Theme from the Monkees
The Communards - Lover Man.

This is an opera program, after all.

We closed with Three Redneck Tenors singing “O sole mio.”

Radio Betty was produced from about 2 hours of senseless babble and a page of scribbled notes by the longsuffering and righteously indignant people at Sonic Trout.

New Feature! We’re starting a new Ask Opera Betty column. Please send your (vaguely) opera-related questions to:

opera (dot) betty at gmail (dot) com.

We’ll make up an answer.

This post by The BHJ is what I love about opera:

Fat Gay Opera Singer Steals The Show On Grey’s Anatomy

“…he located the need to make art in the realm of murderous rage, which is truer, more authentic, than the naive notion that the movement toward art is a delicate, pretty process. That’s a pretty hardcore idea to parade across prime time television.”

I told you opera is hardcore.

The entire staff of Opera Betty has been arrested for drug-running, money-laundering and swearing on the radio. Otherwise, we’d be putting up a neato calender that shows where you can go see all our favorite operas. Until then, these amused us:

An opera about Sarah Palin

And one about Burning Man

To all you people who still think opera is for sissies, I present Joyce DiDonato, diva. After her opening aria at the Royal Opera House, she fractured her tibula (taking the “break a leg” thing seriously). And then she performed the rest of The Barber of Seville.

You can read about it on her blog, Yankee Diva

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Let me tell you, nothing says “pretentious prat” like listening to an opera on your mp3 player while simultaneously checking in with the libretto and scanning the latest Paste magazine. Oh Paste, I have such a crush on you. To complete the musical hat trick, I was sitting on a plane next to a boy from the Evangel University Concert Orchestra. He and roughly three quarters of the rest of the plane were on their way to Europe for a concert tour. Lucky bastards. Wait, that might be inappropriate as by the name I’d guess Evangel U is perhaps religious? Let’s look….  googling….googling…. Ah yes! Boldly Christian. Lucky ducks, then.

That explains why they didn’t bat an eye while discussing Air on a G String. Hilarious. You know it’s bad when you’re spitting coffee out your nose while the actual and for real 19 year old boys who are supposed to have this kind of sense of humor are humming the melody. Londonderry Air also cracks me up whenever I hear it announced.

Where was I?

Ah yes, brushing up on La Traviata so I could discuss it with you. Because I can’t have you marching off to see it without knowing what you’re in for, now can I?

I meant to write the synopsis while I was vacationing. I took my laptop with me and really, is there anything more disconcerting than putting your laptop into one of those TSA dishpans and watching someone slide it over a slick surface? Someone who is not inordinately attached to it? No, there is not.

After all that, I spent my weekend with no internet and nearly lost my will to live. Fortunately, I had my mp3 player and Paste magazine. You may find it interesting that on my mp3 player I had La Traviata (with Angela Gheorghiu if you’re into that kind of thing), Primus’ Sailing the Seas of Cheese and Belle and Sebastian’s The Life Pursuit.

It was a good weekend.

On looking over this post, I think it would be best if I put the synopsis in its own pristine place, untainted by talk of g strings and bold christians. We’ll just keep this one quietly between us, mkay? Read the synopsis here.

Fred found this and linked it in my Very First Comment Ever:

Heavens to Betty.

(thanks, Fred)

Mahavishnu John Curmudgeon left a comment on my other blog that said, “I might like opera better if the dying (and plenty of it) was right at the beginning….”

Smarty pants.

I can’t think of any operas where it’s mostly just music and limp bodies for three and a half hours because everyone died in the first act. But maybe with a little cutting and pasting we could create an opera that runs like Memento - where it starts at the end and is pieced together in bits until you finally get to see the beginning.

Although I have never been to a Tan Dun opera (the Crouching Tiger dude), I think he’d be a good choice for an opera where everyone dies at the beginning. It would be quite beautiful. Could someone ask him please? MJC would thank you.

Tonight I saw George Balanchine’s Jewels at the Wang.

Obviously, this has nothing to do with opera. But the 14 year old in me has been giggling about that statement all evening and I just had to tell someone.

You’re welcome.