Photo by Pat Johnson
A night like this could get to be a habit. Saturday’s simulcast of San Francisco Opera’s Il trovatore was the seventh free, live simulcast in a tradition instituted by General Director David Gockley in 2006 and the fourth to be held at AT&T Park. The staid glamour of the opera house was happily exchanged by many for a jovial, picnic setting and a ticket price that can’t be beat. (It’s free.)
Of course, as happened on this occasion, the entire first half of a beautifully rendered “Tacea la notte” was upstaged by a toddler being chased around the infield by security guards, only to lie defiantly spread-eagle on the pitcher’s mound to the delight of all, and a jet plane disturbed the musical tranquility as mother and son onstage across town sang wistfully “Ai nostri monti.” But these events seemed only to enhance the pleasure of the 25,000 or so who made their way out for great music under the stars, with as many garlic fries and $9 beers as they could afford to enjoy.
A few minutes before “curtain,” I recognized a group of six, seated at a table, looking suspiciously like opera singers. I accused them of as much. One of them, laughing, said, “What gave us away — all the carbs or the giant laughter?!” I asked them why they came out to the park when they could’ve had a night off. In his beautiful, giantlike voice, Andrea Silvestrelli (recently heard in Verdi’s Requiem and Das Rheingold) laughed and pointed to his traditional ballpark dinner: “We came for the dogs!” Another chimed in with “There’s nothing like watching Mimi die of consumption while you’re stuffing your face with popcorn and hot dogs!”
When asked what they were looking forward to about seeing Trovatore at the ballpark, they discussed seeing what the cameras can do with closeups, observing more audience reaction around them than the Opera House encourages, and finding a different demographic than that found in the theater.
The ladies present seemed reluctant to be photographed wearing, as it were, as much ketchup and mustard as lipstick, and Silvestrelli good-naturedly took one for the team, pointing to his massive mane and saying, “No, no, i capelli!”
Peter, Dave, Pete, and Wes were looking forward to seeing opera at a different venue. “It’s fun at the opera house, but this is a lot of fun. I think the audience feels free to react, to boo and hiss out here. It kind of brings back the way opera was originally staged.”
George Hume, donning a Giants cap, thanked the Giants organization for its support and generosity, and all the donors who make possible what he reminded everyone are definitely “not free” concerts.
Conductor Robert Ashens waits happily in a long concessions line to see Trovatore for a second time, “all’ aperto!”
John and Patty DiLuna go to the opera house “every now and then” and with a group of about 10 were among those who arrived early enough to get a choice picnic spot in the outfield.
Thor Hansen, begging to be interviewed, declaimed that he was a big Giants fan who had never been to the opera. “I like coming to the park and I like the garlic fries. I’m hoping to win those free tickets to the opera!”
After reminding those at the opera house to turn off their cell phones, David Gockley was met with groans by the crowd at the park for suggesting that they could leave their own phones on, since “Most of you will, anyway.”
Intermission was spent querying folks as to what, exactly, they thought had transpired in the first half. A wide variety of answers about witches, countesses, and “the guy finding out that his wife was fooling around with his brother” didn’t shed much light on the subject.
A woman named Melba from Vallejo won the prize for most accurate synopsis: “Basically, so far what you’re looking at is, the witch actually was trying to kill the Count’s son but she ended up killing her son, so she took his son as her child. Now he’s in love with the Count’s girlfriend (it’s not his wife yet) so they’re both in love with the same woman and they’re fighting for her but at this point in time they’re not realizing that they’re brothers, but I realize that they’re brothers!
“So now I want to find out what it’s going to be: if they’re going to fight over her and one of them is going to be killed, or if they’re going to find out that they’re brothers and let her go. I’m hanging on the edge of my seat.”
Mike and Oscar from San Francisco are not regular operagoers but they were loving it. The Gypsy was, so far, their favorite character. A request for a plot recap was met with a long pause, and finally, “Well, there’s a lot of singing ... there’s a love triangle and there’s something we don’t know yet! The second guy in the triangle, I’m wondering if that’s the Count’s son, all grown up.”
John from Oakland described himself as “almost” an opera fan. I stopped him as he walked bouncily humming the “Anvil Chorus” and asked if he could summarize the plot. He leaned in and with a wry smile said: “It’s a problem, with the babies.”