Live Blogging Is Hard: It's All About the O's

Live Blogging Is Hard: It's All About the O's—Orphee, Opera...and Oprah?

Saturday, 07 November 2009 08:04 | Written by Byron

It is 6:20 pm and I am currently making fun of Storm Large's furry coat.

I'm at Portland Opera's production of Orphee at Keller Auditorium.

I am going to "try" and live blog this auspicious event for you, my dear readers.

Notice the emphasis on "try."

Here I go:

6:25 pm: About to go on a backstage tour. The last time I was in the bowels of The Keller I was a dancing bear in Oregon Ballet's Nutcracker. The old one.

7:00 pm: Just back to the borrowed Mac (thanx Julia!) from the backstage tour and Ms. Large only burped once. She informed mr she does have underpants on. "It is the opera, after all." On the stage tour I noticed the stage is basically a small box with a ceiling. Really different for an opera...or a productioin at the Keller. But this is Philip Glass...and well..he is an odd cat. Production Manager Laura Hassell (great name for anyone in charge, btw) told us about the set which, to me, sort of looks like the old Keller lobby, when it was called the Civic Auditorium, in the 1980s.

Things I noticed so far: too many people fixate on Storm's boobs...There is a pair of sequined gloves a la Michael Jackson...but since there is two it really isn't a Michael Jackson reference (Storm told me ...she is wise...so wise). Bob Hicks is extremely patient with Storm and my chattering...he is between us and he is currently calling us the "bloggy bloggy boys n' girls"...there was really old people in the rush line...really old people...I feel like a performing monkey sitting at this table.

INTERMISSION: So it's nearly not as painful as I thought it would be. In fact, I am truly loving this show. Orphee is like a really good episode of NCIS or CSI New York. It took me a couple of beats to get into this show, but once everyone started dying and the whole mirror/death metaphor started to do it's "magic" well, I was in. I loved sitting next to Storm when Orphee bellowed my "life stinks of success and death." "How fucking French can you get?" she cracked.

Things I am thinking about: So it's weird, but "Death" looks a lot like Daria from The Buzz and Ann-Margaret. The set has a nice claustrophobic effect, which is hell to pull off in the Keller...our snacks are really good...so is the wine...I love the costumes...especially the emo-ish dead poet dude...he looks like the guy from Fall Out Boy, Pete Wentz, who is married to Ashley Simpson..My friend Carl Halvorson kicked ass as the reporter...I wish my ears weren't so plugged up.

And, oh yeah, about the music? I like it. A lot. It's repetitive, but's it's good. But that's Glass. The orchestra is kicking ass. The patterns change, says one of the opera-goers, and if "you liked playing Satie you would probably like playing this," says Celia Carlson.

9:55 pm: The show is over. And I have to say it was...drum roll please...it was all a very pleasant surprise. Okay, so it wasn't Carmen or the one with the crying clown or even the one that made Julia Roberts cry in Pretty Woman, but it was damn good.

The second half centered on the fact that Orphee couldn't look at his wife or she would end up dead. Again. But he has a hard-on for Death (the chick who looks like Daria/Ann-Margaret). And Death, who I thought was going to be this ice, cold bitch, quelle surprise, ends up making the biggest sacrifice of all by turning back time and letting Orphee get back to life with his annoying blonde wife. Well it was all very FRENCH. And zombie-ish a la Dawn of The Dead. And parts of it even felt like the damn Twilight saga (the guy who plays the chauffeur looks a little bit like RPatz). So, I have to recommend this opera. It worked for me. And probably would work for any opera-phobic person raised on Cher. It's a tight show (it's only 2 hours and ten minutes). And it rocked. It was really compelling shit...even though the set looked like it may have once been the home to George and Louise Jefferson. There I said it. I love opera. And Oprah. I had to fit Ms. O in here somewhere, the alliteration was too irresistible. Off to the cast party!

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