I take it you’ve been watching the World Cup and really enjoying the internationalism of the sport, especially games that end in a tie. Haha, I’ve got jokes for days, people! Stop laughing, and let’s talk about opera.

Now that your laughter has died down, the truth is I have been watching this curiosity called “football” the last few days, and it has been more interesting than most of the absolute dreck that ends up on ESPN. Soccer was my sport as a young man, no doubt because David Beckham’s breathy voice reminded me so heavily of the soft lilt one finds in a good operatic aria, and despite the fact that I want to blow those vuvuzelas up with dynamite (it sounds like a swarm of bees during every match) the games have been fascinating. Getting to see South Korea trounce Greece right at the start was a thrill, America’s errant (and accidental) goal against England was breathtaking (and hilarious), and today we see for the first time since 1966 the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (that would the North of the Koreas) play in a World Cup game, against Brazil. It is a fascinating spectacle, and the next few weeks will be riveting. Also, like Roberto Bolle’s Vogue spread before it, the international World Cup centerfold in Vanity Fair this month is ah-mazing. Have you seen it?

Yowza. The United Nations wishes it could make multicultural unity look so good. [Sweats profusely, wipes brow.]

Anyway, this isn’t a sports column (not that anyone in Alabama would call it a sport, hey-oooo), so let’s recap last week’s cultural events, which are actually happening within the coming week:

- Next Monday, June 21st, is the Mobile Opera’s first Night Of Song of the summer. It is free, and at an establishment that serves alcohol. Go to it.
- This Saturday, June 19th, is the Saenger’s night of instrumental guitar and luscious man hair. It costs money, but is air conditioned. Go to it.

I apologize for all the timey-wimeyness of announcing upcoming events; I like to plan ahead, which usually leads to discussion of things long before they get here. So is the burden of the obsessive-compulsive who dares to have a social life (or anyway, who likes to pretend he’ll have one if he could just leave the house).

Speaking of homebodies and timey-wimeyness, for those that have such a mythical creature as “cable” a week from this Saturday BBC America will be airing an episode of Doctor Who featuring a quite lovely and sentimental story about depressing artiste Van Gogh and his fight with monsters, both real and imagined (but mostly real). I’ve already had a go at it and found it both exciting and quite a bit sad as well. It’s rare that the worlds of science-fiction and art history interact, but it makes for a lovely diversion, so perhaps you’ll enjoy it. Or not. See if I care.

Onwards and upwards now to part 3 in a presumed 4 part feature about the who, what, when, where, and possibly why of ballet and opera.

A (Really) Brief (And Poorly Explained) History of Ballet & Opera: Part III

In the past two weeks we’ve covered (in a bit more detail than I’d originally intended) the people and performances that make for a great introduction to ballet. This week and next we’ll do the same for opera, although perhaps with less detail as: A) I’m not sure people actually care all that much, B) I presume if they did they could probably have a go at the Google with better accuracy, and C) tl;dr.

Opera is a vocal and visual art form that first appeared right around the dawn of the 17th century in Italy. Over the next 100 years Germany, France, and England all built upon Italy’s introduction of the art, while Italy continued to be the center of the operatic world, churning out interesting and diverse stories that continue to be performed today. Mozart, beloved historical figure to second graders and revered composer to the fraction of adults who care about such things, dug opera and created a litany of works for it. During the 19th century operas blossomed like never before, gaining in traction outside of the exclusivity it had enjoyed in western Europe, and finally appearing in our beloved America.

Jenny Lind was a Swedish opera singer who, due to a strange curiosity in internationalism and the general weirdness of the immediate pre-Civil War era, became the first operatic celebrity in the United States in 1850 with P.T. Barnum, thus continuing the long tradition of Americans making something considerd quite sophisticated into something a bit trashy and spectacular. She toured the country, pocketing a huge sum of money (we’re talking hundreds of thousands of those delicious antebellum American dollars). She was smart enough to travel with an attorney to avoid exploitation by the shrewd Barnum, although opera itself became a gawky spectacle for the stinking masses. Porcelain dolls were made in her image, and posters were hung proudly in the homes of those lucky enough to have seen her spout one out in concert. Consider her the proto-Spice Girl.

It would be some time before the US would have such insane opera fever, although here and there a singer would pop up and make a bit stink for a few years, only to die down. It wasn’t until Maria Callas showed up in the mid-twentieth century acting like a damned fool that America really had reason to pause. With a voice that, depending on taste, can be described as heavenly or hellish, Callas was herself hell on wheels and a force to be reckoned with. A Greek/American immigrant who loved the Italian concerto, she made her name in the fifties blasting out any and everything that came her way with aplomb and splendor. In 1958 she even did an American tour, performing in our beloved (but not as beloved as Mobile) Birmingham, to great delight. But she was also a heavy partier who spent lavish amounts of money on clothes and art, stayed out all night in the late fifties at Parisian discotheques, and enjoyed life (and vice) without shame. After the decline of her career in the early 1960’s (credited largely due to her affair with married Greek mogul Aristotle Onassis) she ceased regular performance and began only doing private concerts, noteably for television in 1962 and 63 and again in 1966. She ended her stage career in 1965, presumeably to settle down with the now-divorced Onassis; it was probably a surprise in 1968 when he ended up marrying American first lady Jackie Kennedy. (I’d like to’ve been a fly on that wall.) Her career languished considerably afterward, with only occasional appearances in New York and Tokyo in the 1970’s and a lead role in a particular insane Italian film iteration of Medea by Pier Pablo Pasolini in 1969. After Onassis, on the verge of divorce from Jackie, died in 1975, Callas too passed on just a year later in a haze of poor health and prescription drugs. Operatic tragedy off the stage is far worse than what happens on it.

But even a voice like Callas couldn’t approach the cultural importance of American opera singer Grace Bumbry. The first black opera singer to perform at the German Bayreuth Festival in 1961, Bumbry broke the color barrier of the opera world on an international scale. At a time when segregation was still acceptable in much of the US, her recorded performances, adorned prominantely with her face, were among the top-selling in the world. In 1962 she was invited by Jackie Kennedy to perform at the White House, to the consternation of the American south and the joy of the international community. Bumbry would have a singularly remarkable career through the 1980’s, and to this day is considered one of America’s most important musical pioneers, an accomplishment reflected with her receipt of a White House honor from President Obama himself.

These days the opera world is so diverse and heavy-weight that to describe just one singer as a “star” would be to decry the literally brilliant diversity of the stage. Pavoratti was known as a pop star of opera, selling records at such a startling rate that they often overtook rock and pop bands on international rock and pop charts. Anna Netrebko has made something of a name for herself on the international market, being heralded in 2003 as akin to a modern Callas, but her success has been presented with diminishing returns. Just as the world has backed away from classical or highly stylized art forms, so too has her international success been relegated to the artistic centers of the world: western and central Europe, Australia, Japan, and her native Russia. It’s just not a world that champions fine art within the pop culture anymore. The niche will always exist, but the heydey of such a world is probably long-past. Sad face, etc.

Next week: we’ll pick the best operas for beginners, a task made easier by the fact that almost all operas are wicked awesome. In the meantime, have a go at some of the linked performances above and get your taste of the opera world. And as we depart for this week, let’s reflect once more on the World Cup and the athletic and cultural merit of such an awe-inspiring event.

[Swoon.] Oh, Ronaldo.