Sunday Special: #operaplot

Rejoice, lovers of opera and witty banter: the season of #operaplot is upon us!  What is #operaplot, you ask?  A week (April 11-15) of opera lovers laughing maniacally while hunched over their computer screens, summarizing their favorite profound works of operatic art in a maximum of 140 characters of whimsical poetry or prose, and enjoying the efforts of others to do the same.  It takes place on Twitter, under the auspices of The Omniscient Mussel (Twitter handle @missmussel.)  While the game's the thing, it's technically a competition, with an impressive prize pool and a celebrity judge, the amazing (and, as demonstrated here, funny) Eric Owens:

I imagine that if you are on Twitter, you are already aware of this impending hilarity; if you've been waiting for an excuse to take the Twitter-plunge, this is a good one!  It's a spectator sport, too, which I very much enjoyed last year.  Even without a Twitter account, you can simply put #operaplot in the search bar and chuckle as you watch the entries tick by.  If last year is anything to go by, the fun won't end on the 15th, either, as the entries are collected and collated, and opera nerds, er, enthusiasts everywhere put their heads together to match cryptic Tweets with the operas they describe.  I'm very excited. For rules and FAQ, go here.  I will, of course, be hunched over my own laptop, laughing maniacally, making my own submissions, and delighting in those of others. 

Ein höchst gelung’ner Spaß

Thanks to Zerbinetta at Likely Impossibilities, I have discovered a wondrous thing: a Twitter contest to summarize opera plots. (Rules here; explanation here; last year's winners here.) I'm not a Twitterer, but fortunately this is also a spectator sport, described by Charlotte Higgins as "the most fun opera nerds can have in 140 characters!" In my own fascinated contemplation of the almost-constantly-updating entries, I have discovered subgenres of pastiche, e.g. IreneVartanoff: "I'll build a castle in Paradise, I'm going to get there at any price; Stand aside, I'm on my way (Wotan, apologize to Gershwin)," and rhyme, e.g. ClassicalReview: "Notion. 'Potion'. Commotion. Emotion. Devotion." While savoring the more arcane entries, I have to say I have a special place in my heart for the irreverent:

ClassicalCritic: #operaplot I don’t love that silly girl. I’m too cool for this. Shoot, there goes my friend. Wait, maybe... But it is too late, too Russian.

Gtheule: Cigarettes are unwise and bullfighting is nuts, but a mezzo has them beat for crazy any day of the week. #operaplot

JoseSPiano: He sings. He schemes. He lies for the lovers. He steals keys. He evades arrest. But does he actually cut hair? #operaplot

Pauljz: 3 protagonists enter. 3 cries of “Turandot.” 3 gongs. 3 riddles. 3 correct answers. 3 ministers lament. 3 “Vinceròs!” 3 Acts end. #operaplot

thoscarpenter: Let's all try to figure out why the King of Sweden was assassinated in Boston. I think it has something to do with the censors. #operaplot

And in honor of irreverent, erudite opera summaries:

In the river Rhein! IN it! (Since you can't have just one: Hunding plays the French horn, Siegfried's Classic Understatement, and the whole world burns up.)

Tomorrow, with any luck, I will be experiencing firsthand Anna Russell's dictum that the beauty of grand opera is that you can do anything as long as you sing it. I've tried a number of recordings, I've read the libretto, I've pored over the score... and I still haven't connected with Carmen (sorry, Bizet.) I've been impressed. I've been moved. But part of me never stops thinking "Drôles de gens! Drôles de gens!" Will Kate Aldrich and Jonas Kaufmann ignite Richard Eyre's staging in a way that suddenly makes sense? Am I expecting too much? On va voir.