Aida is set in Egypt because people like seeing exotic things without getting off their couches. That’s why there are so many operas about hookers. This one’s not about a hooker. It’s about the captain of the Egyptian guard, Radames, who is in love with an Ethiopian slave, Aida. Aida is the slave of the Egyptian Princess Amneris, who is in love with Radames.

The Ethiopians are coming and Isis tells Radames to go  conquer them. Isis isn’t actually in this opera. She’s working flex time and telecommutes.

The Ethiopian army is lead by Amonasro, king of Ethiopia. Amonasro happens to be Aida’s father, which everyone in Egypt would know if they had read the synopsis in their programs. Aida does not know which team colors to wear.

Radames comes back victorious, trailing several captors including the man he would like to call his father in law. Amonasro is dressed as a captain and although Aida greets him as his father, they still don’t know he’s king. The people all say to have pity on the captors. The priests say that sounds like a good idea and they’ll get right on it after they’ve had them killed. The king of Egypt congratulates Radames and invites him to marry his daughter. Considering what kind of mood the priests are in, Radames doesn’t mention his preference for Aida.

Amonasro, who is kind of a jerk, reminds Aida that Radames just killed a bunch of her friends and conquered her homeland. She’s unphased by this logic.

Radames had figured that if he conquered the Ethiopians, he’d be able to come home and marry Aida. He’s just not that into Egyptian princesses (especially kind of bitchy ones). Aida suggests they run off together and Radames spills the beans that the Egyptian army will be going through a super secret pass the next day so it will be unguarded and they can go that way. The king of Ethiopia then blows it all by triumphantly announcing to anyone who will listen that Radames is a traitor and the Ethiopians will now sneakily attack them in the super secret pass, because no one had invented or cracked the Enigma yet. Or figured out how to read ahead in the programs, for that matter.

Radames is tried as a traitor and the priests, who are still in a mood, announce that he should be buried alive. Radames goes into his brandy spandy new tomb which they’ve prepared for just such an occasion and as they push the big stone closed over his head, he notices that Aida is in the tomb with him. She snuck in the night before and no one thought to stop her because who wants to be in a tomb that’s about to be sealed if you’re not actually dead yet?

The next bit requires some stage trickery because Aida and Radames are singing in the tomb while Amneris et al are above, wringing their hands (or toasting themselves, depending). Everyone sings and then - you know I spoil all the surprise endings, right? - they die. For good measure, Amneris comes around just in time to be equally miserable (but less dead).

Salome is perhaps the reason I like opera.

When I was in high school, a french horn player named Michael Gast played Salome for me. He explained what was happening in the music as well as the plot. It was like watching a hockey game with someone who not only knew about hockey, but knew rude stories about all the players. There are a lot of rude stories about the players in Salome.

Watching it now, there’s something familiar about this opera but I can’t quite put my finger on it. There’s lingerie and death and sex and more sex and death and cryptic innuendo and… sweet baby Elmo, I’m watching a Lady Gaga video.

As with many of the best sex and violence operas, Salome is a Bible story. It’s the story of King Herod, his prisoner John the Baptist/Jokanaan and his stepdaughter Salome. Herod recognizes that John/Jokanaan is in tight with God and doesn’t especially want to turn him over for execution because, you know, plagues of locusts, 40 days 40 nights, whale indigestion, blah blah blah. Herod is also a lecherous ass.

The whole opera takes place on one set, which probably pissed the union right off. In the middle of the set is a grill covering a pit which leads to the green room in which Jokanaan hangs out. He sings up through the grill just often enough to make everyone nervous.

Narraboth, the captain of the guard, starts the ball rolling with his wing man, the page. The page warns him about Salome, but Narraboth’s eyes go all twirly and he won’t shut up about her until Jokanaan starts bellowing biblical prophecy. Note: do not invite prophecy-spewing guests to parties and leave the opening to their prisons where people can hear them.

Salome comes away from the feast because she can’t stand how Herod looks at her. She hears Jokanaan and asks who he is. She quizes the guards about him, and then asks to see him. The guards are not down with that and, since they are probably eunics, don’t give in. Narabaath is not a eunic.

He brings out Jokanaan, who launches into a tirade about Herodias - Salome’s mother/current wife of Herod. Herodias richly deserves his wrath. Salome listens and thinks he’s a total dreamboat, or at least her kind of effed-up. Jokanaan asks who she is and when she identifies herself as the daughter of Herodias he tells her to go to the wilderness and eat nuts and berries until she’s redeemed of the Lord. She counter-offers with a suggestion to just do it right here, right now. Narraboth is all kinds of jealous and kills himself. No one notices. Salome keeps begging Jokanaan to kiss her.

“I’ll be in my dungeon if anyone needs me” Jokanaan mutters over his shoulder, descending back into the pit/green room and pulling the grate shut behind him.

Herod and Herodias appear and Herod asks for Salome in a manner inappropriate to their stepfather - stepdaughter relationship. Herodias may or may not junk kick him and tell him to stop being such an a-hole.

Jokanaan puts in his two cents. Herodias tells him to zip it and taunts Herod for being afraid of him. Herod waxes theological, Nazarenes talk of miracles, Herodias is annoyed and the choir dozes. On a roll, Herod asks Salome to dance for him, summoning her stripper pole. She says no. He says “please oh please I’ll give you a pony.” She says no. He says “anything you want! I’ll give you anything you want! Pleeeeeeeze…..?”

“Promise?”

He promises on a stack of lunch meat. Salome dances. There is nudity. And then she asks for the head of Jokanaan on a silver platter. Herod faints. Herodias cheers. She gives his ring to the soldiers and issues the command.

In the dungeon the soldiers are all drawing straws. Salome waits, tapping her watch. Finally the head appears.

Salome takes the head, reminds it of the refused kiss, and snogs the severed head of Jokanaan.

Herod screams like a little girl and tells the soldiers to kill her. They do.

The end.

I’m not going to tell you how to pronounce Il Barbiere di Siviglia because it’s kind of like ordering Mexican food. I mean, if you’re at La Scala, you should probably brush up on your Italian but otherwise it’s perfectly okay to just order the chicken burritos.

If that did not make sense to you, this opera is only going to make it worse.

Let’s start with the characters. Count Almaviva is in love with Rosina. Rosina is the ward of Dr. Bartolo. Dr. Bartolo wants to marry Rosina. Rosina wants to marry Count Almaviva. Figaro helps make it all happen. Figaro is the Barber of Seville.

Almaviva arrives with his servant Fiorello and a band of musicians. They stand beneath Rosina’s balcony and Almaviva serenades her at dawn. Late sleeping Rosina does not appear. The musicians, telling each other to be quiet, wake the whole town.

Almaviva pays them and sends them away. He sticks around, hoping to see Rosina and have a word with her. He hears Figaro approaching and ducks into a doorway. Figaro is a loudmouth.

Figaro arrives and sings the Bugs Bunny aria.

Did you know that if you search online for Rabbit of Seville, the only videos you find are in Spanish? It’s true.

The Barber words are slightly different from the Rabbit version. This one is about how resourceful he is and how everyone is always asking him for something and calling him.

“Figaro! Figaro! Feeeeeee-ga-row!”

He goes on and on about how great he is and how nothing gets done without him. It would be annoying if he weren’t so darn charming.

Figaro and Almaviva recognize each other and Figaro asks what brings the Count to town. Almaviva explains about stalking Rosina.

Rosina appears on her balcony holding a note. Just as she sees the Count Almaviva, Dr. Bartolo comes out and demands to see the note. Rosina convinces him she’s just written out the lyrics to an aria from a popular opera. Dr. Bartolo does not like opera, the people who watch it, or the people who perform it. She accidentally drops the note and asks Bartolo to get it, knowing he won’t bother. She signals to Almaviva that it’s for him.  Bartolo shoos her inside.

The note says that Rosina has noticed Almaviva and she thinks he’s kind of cute. Bartolo will be going out soon and she hopes Almaviva will introduce himself.

Bartolo does go out, and Rosina appears on the balcony. Almaviva sings to her, calling himself Lindoro so she doesn’t fall for his title and wealth. It’s like Coming to America except they don’t come to America. He tells her he can’t offer her anything but his devotion. She swoons. He swoons. She hears someone coming and goes inside.

Almaviva hires Figaro to help him marry Rosina.

Bartolo has conscripted Basilio to help him finagle a marriage to Rosina. Madness ensues. The Count arrives as a soldier and again as a substitute music teacher (Alonzo). Bartolo tricks Rosina into thinking that Lindoro is  tricking her into marrying Count Almaviva and he does not love  her at all. Rosina agrees to marry Bartolo and confides that Lindoro/Alonzo/Almaviva and Figaro are planning to sneak in that night. They plan to trick them when they arrive.

Except when they arrive, Lindoro/Alonzo/whoever-the-flip-he-is tells Rosina he’s actually Count Chocula. Wait, no, Count Almaviva. She is tickled pink. A notary arrives to draw up the marriage contract between Bartolo and Rosina. Figaro has the notary make the contract between Almaviva and Rosina. The Count asks Basilio to be a witness. Basilio obliges. (Ballistics and bribery may or may not have been involved. )

Bartolo arrives, but it’s too late. There’s much rejoicing. The Count lets Bartolo keep Rosina’s dowery, which makes everything right in Bartolo’s world. Chorus sings. Curtains close.

The end.