Went to the opera last night. Love, love, loved the singing. The staging was confusing to say the least.
Norma is about the Druids verses the Romans. But it could be any two warring factions that are or ever have faced each other in battle. Druids worship nature gods that demand blood while the Roman's worship a re-named pantheon of gods they modeled after the Greeks. The opening scene the stage hands and the older priest/father of Norma are instructing the peasants to carefully raise the white sparkly tree off the ground to decorate the hall and so Norma can cut the sacred sprig of mistletoe. The people scream for war against the occupying Romans but Norma, a high priestess declared peace. Vows were broken, love was exchanged and then love was lost and given to another this angers the powerful Druid Priestess and she plots revenge first on her children (shades of Medea) then on him by killing the woman he has recently fallen out of love with her for, and then finally the two die together as both a token of their mutual love and atonement for breaking her vows.
Norma's love for Pollione kept her from going to war with Rome against the obvious wishes of her people. They were tired of bondage.....and I'm not going to go for the easy pun there. Though she was preaching peace from the altar her personal behavior and love for her Roman made her position and link to the physical waned as she slowly left everything behind to prepare for war. Look at the picture below, in the beginning the trees filled the large door, in this picture they are almost all gone.
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| Sondra Radvanovsky as Norma @ SFOpera |
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Through out the opera, the trees go away and there are these white shapes on the stage that you really can't make out as anything other than junk. The last thing that they had built was something that looked like a gun that would fit on a tank, but was twisted in a way so if it were a gun it would have blown up. We were so enthralled by the singing we were confused by the bits and pieces which were being built for their "machine of war". This was their sacred land, their holy place and they stripped it bare to have the pleasure to die for Priestess and country because she was scorned by her lover. That is really simplistic of what happened and the message I took away from the opera. In the last picture you can see what they made with their precious trees.
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The horn is what I thought was a gun for the turret. |
Now, why would I spend a Sunday morning writing about an opera the night before when I could be snuggled safe in bed? It got me thinking, how many temples/sacred places/items of worship have we destroyed in favor of our personal jihads or our public wars? A jihad is a personal battle for improvement, to keep ourselves from becoming an infidel. (Not all wars are fought with slings and arrows and outrageous fortunes. Some are more insidious in slowly wearing down who and what we believe due to illness, work, family and/or friends.) We all don't actually tear down temples, what would be wrong and illegal and a one way ticket to the bad place where they send those who hurt children and talk during the opera. The idea for a journal discussion has been rolling around in my mind is the idea of putting other gods before Him. You think you don't, but we all do. No, we don't bow down before an altar and swear fealty to this god but it is a god none the less. Some obvious ones are money, "things", hobbies (even the good ones if done to an extreme). I keep trying to nail down what I think mine are, but nothing really comes out of the little box I keep my little secretes in (it's in my head).
I should probably define my gods. Not just as a service for Him but for myself. As before mentioned I have an unnatural and spiritual relationship with mega stuff Oreos. I'm pretty sure you can put all sweet and fattening food on that list as well. I love the opera, The only thing that gets between me and the opera is church and I make sure there aren't any conflicts. Money, or in my case the lack of money. I spend days worrying abut how I can make the ends meet instead of laying my burdens at His feet and trusting He will help me pull the ends together. I spend not enough time taking care of myself. The lack of care that I show for my clay temple is appalling. Lack of action is just as damaging as direct action sometimes.
It took me a few hours and a nap for me to find an example. I know I'm not above this but getting my brain to pull an example wasn't happening quick enough. Stopped and got dressed for church, sat down on my bed to check my phone and there it was; the bed pulling me back in. Gravity is even against me because I've had the bed long enough to have that worn in comfortable nest in the middle. Sleep, sleep is my enemy. Yes, I've mentioned in other blogs that I'm tired and I'm having problems sleeping and would really, really, really like to just crawl back into bed and never, ever get out again. But, sleep, like the seductive Pollione, in a lot of ways has conquered me. I have broken my vows of fealty to my covenants and have chosen to stay in my bed than in my sacred spaces....church...temple...meditation....(heaven help me) even exercise. I don't have the option of turning my bed into a funeral pyre, but I can light a fire under me and try to rebuild, replant and reclaim my inner and outer sacred space;
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