Even if you hate opera, or don’t care about it, or don’t understand it, or even if you’ve never in your life attended one, I’m begging you to give this a whirl. This has nothing to do with what you know or what you don’t know. It also has nothing to do with how fancy you are or think you are. This is a clip about Art, and the woman living in the middle of it.
Diana Damrau has been playing this particular role for almost a decade now, and for someone who’s lived inside this world, and who’s revealed this character over and over and over, she’s as fascinating and as glorious as if she was stepping out on stage for the very first time. As the mother from Hell (literally) the scene before the aria is riveting. The really great thing is that if you’re not familiar with the original language, I guarantee you’ll understand exactly what she means, what she’s going through, and what’s happening to her heart simply by sitting back and receiving her work.
Her ability to reveal and to speak her truth is uncanny. We know immediately by her Shape (straight up to the top of the Universe) and her Topography (the way she’s practically creeping…slithering toward her daughter seemingly on the tips of her toes), her relationship to the girl on the opposite side of the bed. And as she attempts to cajole, plead, and demand a righteous end to her daughter’s life, everything gets bigger. Her breath is heavy, her Gestures get larger, and she begins to close up her Spatial Relationship, coming in closer and closer, breathing down her neck.
Finally, when her text is too much for her, when words fail her, when she gears up to send something more powerful and more glacial to her prey, she begins one of the most famous aria’s in operatic history. Again, even if you’re not familiar with the style, you’ll most likely recognize the melody.
The most fascinating thing for me, (and it’s difficult for me to narrow that down), are the moments in the song where the text is replaced with a simple sound: “Ah.” Watch what happens to her. Damrau is the Champion of Specificity. Singing the word “Ah” is a dangerous and slippery slope. But watch her closely. Through most of the song, the Shape she begins with, (being up and tight and almost wound to a pulp), completely changes s she begins those “Ah’s”. Absolutely everything in her changes. Everything flies out of her. Her Shape grows lower to the ground, her inner Tempo speeds up, and there’s a beautiful and almost frightening Gesture she uses, practically spewing the notes straight towards her daughter’s heart. Watch exactly where she’s aiming. I have no idea if this was planned, or if she even thought about this, but it happens every time she lives in this part of the song. It’s glorious work.
And then, toward the end, the final time she sings those notes, as she stands above her daughter, triumphant and glorious, she sends those notes out toward us. She uses us as her scene partner, and we are suddenly attached to her, part of her, and whatever has happened to her daughter, has happened to us. Her Gestures rise to the sky and she all but takes off soaring toward the Heavens. Interesting considering where she’s supposed to be actually ‘from’.
This is an actor who understands that everything needs to be involved, and that art Costs something. Damrau is experiencing every single moment here. We aren’t watching great acting here. We aren’t watching someone create a character; we’re watching a woman on the brink. We’re watching something private and intimate and we’re allowed to watch it the way life is sometimes experienced: Huge, Massive, Above the Norm, and with Complete and Utter Abandon.
Sometimes life and art are both are messy and gorgeous. And sometimes we are privileged enough to be in the room when an artist is generous enough to let us in on their own personal battle with both.

Comments