(no subject)

[cahn]

All right, I've wanted to do this for a while:

The problem with operas is that they're too long. By which I mean, if anyone in them was sensible they'd all be at most half the length.

So: comment with an opera name (*) and I'll respond with a short snippet of a canon-divergence AU where the opera is Much Shorter. Warning, of course, that at least some of the characters will be wildly out of character. That is to say, probably much more sensible. :)

(*) If it's an opera I know, you'll get the ficlet much sooner. If it's one I haven't watched yet, I'll put it on my list to watch and you'll get the ficlet once I've watched it. This is a good opportunity for you to get me to watch your favorite opera, since after I finish Norma with Caballé I'm gonna go back to RL opera friend and ask for more DVDs! (Though given my previous track record, this might also take a while.)

(cross-posted to tumblr)

Comments

[rosefox]

Oooooh please do this for Carmen! I'd ask for Aïda, but I fell asleep somewhere around the fifth third act, so I don't actually remember any of the story.

Bonus round: RENT. I have a strong preference for "Angel lives" AUs (somewhere in my head is an AU in which Roger gets Angel's death scene and everyone else lives more or less happily more or less ever after) but as you please.

[isis]

Hee, I was going to ask for Carmen also, so this is me seconding this request!

[cahn]

Done, see below :D

[cahn]

That works out great because Aida is the last major Verdi I haven't seen yet! OK -- here's one for you -- where Carmen is slightly more sensible, and Micaela is rather more, hm, maybe sensible isn't the word? :D

(And I will think on Rent! I've listened to it a bunch but have never actually watched it through -- this is a good impetus :) )
------

Micaëla, coming back to look for José, heard the sound of singing coming from the mostly-empty square.

She hurried near. It was the gypsy girl -- la Carmencita? -- of whom her friends at the Seville factory had told her. Micaëla watched for a second, fascinated, as Carmen sang of dancing the seguidilla, the curves of her body moving sinuously as she sang. Micaëla saw José, trying very hard to pretend as if he were not paying any attention, but occasionally his eyes would dart over to Carmen.

Micaëla shivered all over and walked boldly into the square. José jumped up and came to her, looking slightly guilty. "Micaëla --"

She said softly to him, "Let me speak to Carmen. Privately. Just for a moment, José."

He searched her eyes, then nodded. "But just for a moment. When Lieutenant Zuniga comes back he must not find me away from her."

José walked away a little space, just out of earshot if she spoke quietly. Micaëla said to Carmen, "Stay away from José. He is a good man, but weak, and you could break him." She loved him, but she had known José since childhood, and saw clearly through that love.

Carmen laughed, showing pearly teeth between her red lips. "I go where I please, little dove, and I fear no man, no matter what the danger. But perhaps... for a price. What will you give me for him?"

Micaëla frowned. She had very little money. And then she thought, and straightened her back and threw back her shoulders. "Myself."

Carmen raised her perfect black eyebrows, but for the first time a look of seriousness came on her face. "You?"

"Me. I will stay with José, I will marry him, but José will not mind if I am with another woman." He had rather enjoyed Micaëla telling him of the women back in their village, in fact. "And I know that you change lovers with the wind, and that won't bother me either. You see that this has many advantages."

Carmen broke into a smile. "Ah, and are you worth going to jail for, my pretty?"

"It will only be for a night," Micaëla said; "the Lieutenant is not very angry. And," she said, daring to smile, "I like to think I am worth it."

Carmen tilted her head, and Micaëla knew she had won. "We shall see, little bird. Tomorrow, then."

[carmarthen]

Well, if I hated you, I'd suggest Ariadne auf Naxos, but my feeling about it is that it would be best improved by not existing (to be fair, I saw the most memorably terrible but not even entertaining production I have ever seen of anything).

*racks brain*

The problem is that I'm an operetta fan and I feel like they're generally a perfectly reasonable length. Hmm. Barber of Seville, I guess?

[cahn]

Ahaha, I love Barber of Seville but it... could... definitely be shorter. Um, it's also been a long time since I've seen it, so apologies if I've got anything wrong! (And I guess Don Pasquale was after Barber of Seville, but never mind that.)

I've never watched any Strauss! I'm... sort of curious, now. :)
---------

"Ah, Basilio!" said Figaro. He hurried to catch up with the music-master and put a hand on his shoulder. "I want to speak with you."

Basilio sighed. "Yes, Figaro?"

"Well, it's common knowledge that Doctor Bartolo wants to marry Rosina, but we all know it's not because he actually loves her, it's because he wants her dowry."

Basilio chuckled. "Figaro, I see that you are as blunt as ever. Of course he does not object to marrying a beauty, and he pretends to love her, but he has said to me more than once that Rosina is such a spitfire, he wishes the dowry came with a more, ah, biddable lady."

"What if," said Figaro, "Rosina were loved by a powerful and rich man -- a Count, let us say -- who would let him keep the dowry in exchange for his permission to marry her?"

Basilio started to look more interested. "Ah?"

Figaro leaned in close to Basilio's ear. "Both Bartolo and this man might make it worth our while -- Bartolo for providing him with the dowry, and this man for providing him with Rosina, eh? And I hear there's an opening for music-master in the Count's household..."

Basilio grinned. "I take your meaning indeed. I shall broach the subject with the good doctor, and perhaps our music lesson today shall be focused on Don Pasquale, so Bartolo sees some of the pitfalls of marrying a younger wife. And then you and I shall take the Count's offer to him."

Figaro grinned back. "Exactly as I was also thinking, sir."

[iberiandoctor]

lolz, you know I'd say Don Carlo, save in that I think you already wrote the canon-divergent everyone-lives fix-it and it was SO GOOD ♥

How about: Les Pêcheurs de Perles? There's gotta be a good canon-divergence AU in there, possibly centred around this duet: https://youtu.be/p2MwnHpLV48

[zdenka]

Yes, I was thinking about saying The Pearl Fishers! And that's my second favorite tenor-baritone opera duet.

[cahn]

ahahaha, oh, I can do a short Don Carlo for you! But first, Pearl Fishers!
------------
Leila made her way up the stairs leading to the temple, and Nadir watched her. His soul struggled within him; his love and desire for Leila, his friendship for Zurga. If only he could see her again -- if only --

Zurga clasped his hand. "Nadir, let us go and leave the priestess to her temple." He paused, looking at Nadir, his face open and guileless. "Nadir, what is the matter?"

Nadir shook his head. "Zurga, my friend --" He stopped.

"Come, Nadir," Zurga said warmly, still grasping his hand; "you are dear as a brother to me, and I swear to hear whatever you have to tell me without anger."

"I broke my word," Nadir said, low. "I followed her, the woman, the goddess' avatar, as I had told you I would not do, and though I did not speak to her nor touch her, I heard her singing." Zurga released his hand and stared at him. "And -- and the singing we have just heard -- it is she!"

Zurga said, emotion clouding his voice, "I have sworn not to be angry at you. I will not. But Nadir --"

"I know," Nadir said passionately, "I know. I want more than anything else to keep my word and friendship with you. But I also know I cannot, not with her there." He took a deep breath. "The only way out, I believe, is for me to leave."

Zurga said abruptly, "I will come with you."

Nadir stared. "What?"

"I would rather be a plain fisherman with you," Zurga said, his voice almost a whisper, "than the king of this people, by myself."

"O Zurga," Nadir said, his throat choked, and fell into his embrace.

[cahn]

All right, here is a Don Carlo for you :D
Note: I realize this doesn't actually work historically, at all, because of the age difference between E and M. But, I mean. I am invoking OPERA HISTORY.
---------------------

Count Lerma said to Elisabeth, "The King would not have you be compelled. Will you accept the King's offer and marry him?"

"Ah, please do!" said the peasants gathered around her. "Please end this long war, please!"

Behind her, Carlos said nothing.

Elisabeth thought of how it would be, to be married to the father of the man she now knew she loved, to be in the same court, for Carlos to be her stepson.

She said slowly, "And what would happen if I refused your King's generous offer? Would the war then go on?"

Count Lerma said, "He would then offer for your sister Marguerite."

She turned; Marguerite herself had ridden with them, and her horse pranced beside Elisabeth. Elisabeth said to her, "Well, sister: what would you think of marrying this King?"

Marguerite's eyes lit up. "Oh, Elisabeth, what an adventure! They say he is the most charming of princes."

"He is older," said Elisabeth.

Marguerite grinned. "All the better! Experienced, you know."

Elisabeth took a deep breath. "Then," Elisabeth said to Lerma, "say to your master, the King of Spain: I am humbled and flattered by your offer, and am not worthy of it; but here is my sister, the gracious Princess Marguerite, who surpasses me in all virtues, and in all things will make a meet and noble wife for you."

Count Lerma caught her eye, and she saw understanding in it; and he bowed. "My lady."

As the Spanish entourage left, Carlos came up to her, hooded so none of the Spanish would recognize him, and said hurriedly to her, "Elisabeth -- so we --"

"We cannot be together," she said to him with regret. She had known that too; one does not refuse a monarch, and then marry his son.

Carlos stared at her, and suddenly smiled, a little sadly, and bowed. "I will always love you, Elisabeth."

"And I you," she said gently, "but I think... there may be other loves for us as well." Another marriage for her, perhaps, and for him; other paths that would lead to more happiness, she hoped, for both of them.

[antisoppist]

Girl of the Golden West?

I saw it a couple of years ago and had thoughts, once I'd got over the fact that Puccini wrote a Western, which is really no weirder than some of the other places he set operas, although it feels like it.

[cahn]

...I have not seen this one yet! I totally want to, it sounds kind of amazing (a Puccini Western??) -- it is going on my list!

[cahn]

You thought I had forgotten! I DID NOT FORGET, it just took me... huh... an entire year... to watch this. Gosh. I am So sorry. If it's any consolation I was thinking about it the whole year, I just had a lot of delays getting it to watch.

(I quite liked Girl of the Golden West, though I also had Thoughts which I shall perhaps have time to write up... someday. I also found it absolutely hilarious when people would say things like "Wells Fargo!" in an Italian accent. I suppose it is good to know what the rest of the world feels like when Americans do it :P :) )

Dear Joe,

I was glad to get your letter, and glad to learn everyone at the mining camp is doing well. Give my love to all the others. I hope you are continuing to read your Bible now that I am gone.

I am doing well in San Francisco. I am working in a laundry and making good money, but in the evenings I am studying to become a teacher. I live with two other women. Alice is working here as a teacher, and Barbara is a singer. They are lovely and I am learning so much from them. Alice knows so much more than I ever even knew was in the world, and Barbara is teaching me a little voice and dancing when we both have time.

I hope you know why I had to go, Joe. I know you thought it was Rance, or maybe Sonora. It wasn't them, no. (Say hello to them as well from me, though.) I cared for all of you so much, but not the way you wanted me to care for you, and also I needed -- I didn't have words for it then, you see. I only knew I had to go. I needed to find who I was, who I could be, in a different place. I think you of all people will understand, you who left your own country to come here to the rough beauty of the mining country.

The life I'm living now isn't always easy, but I'm happy now, Joe. I hope you can understand that.

Oh! I almost forgot to say -- I am glad you were able to save the gold from the dastardly Ramerrez bandits who were trying to steal it. Too bad you didn't catch them. I thought the name Ramerrez gave you was an interesting coincidence -- long ago I once met someone named Dick Johnson, near Sacramento, who seemed like a nice man. Isn't that funny? Well, we can always hope the bandits see the light and are redeemed. At least they didn't get the gold.

Love,
Minnie

[tree_and_leaf]

Tosca?

[cahn]

YES PLEASE LET'S FIX TOSCA
------------------
Tosca burst into the chapel. "With whom were you talking, Mario?"

"With you," Cavaradossi said soothingly.

"You were whispering with someone else!" she accused him.

Cavaradossi looked around, even though he knew there was no one else there, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "I know I can trust you, Tosca, my love. There is indeed someone else here."

"I knew it!" she exclaimed. "But why do you say 'trust'?"

"It is Angelotti. The Consul of the lamented Roman Republic. He has just escaped from Castel Sant'Angelo."

Angelotti emerged from out of the shadows. "My lady."

Tosca's eyes widened and she sank down to her knees in a curtsey. "Sir!"

Angelotti said, his voice rough with exhaustion, "My sister, the Attavanti, hid some women's clothes under the altar. Here: a dress, a veil, a fan. As soon as it gets dark
I'll put these garments on..."

"Oh," Tosca and Cavaradossi said together. "That's why she was here praying!" Cavaradossi said under his breath, while Tosca said, "That's why she was here for you to paint!"

"But you can't say anything of this to anyone," Cavaradossi said to Tosca, "not even your confessor."

"I'm devout, Mario, not stupid," Tosca retorted. "Of course I shall not tell my confessor about this, not now -- perhaps much later when there is no more danger, and accept a heavier penance. But now..." She saw the basket of food. "Sir, you had better take this basket. And look! You have forgotten the fan. Better not to forget that; it has the crest of the Marchesa Attavanti..." She frowned. "You had better both go now and find a hiding place."

"We will go. Thank you, Tosca," Cavaradossi said with feeling, taking her in his arms and kissing her hair, her cheek, her lips, her neck.

She kindled against him, but then pushed him away gently. "I will come back a little later to the chapel to see if Baron Scarpia starts sniffing around," she promised. "If he does, I shall act the jealous lover and lead him a merry chase all around Rome. Don't worry! Am I not the greatest actress in Rome?" She gave Cavaradossi a teasing, coquettish smile, and Cavaradossi gave her another kiss.

[el_staplador]

La Forza del Destino?

[cahn]

YES YES
---------------

Don Alvaro entered from the balcony and threw himself into Leonora's arms. "Ah! Forever, now, my angel, heaven has joined us! Let us go now and be married!"

Leonora, for a second, thought of staying; but she knew she must decide now or risk her father finding them together. She glanced briefly at her maid Curra before saying resolutely, "Yes, let us go now! Here are my bags." Curra gave her an encouraging smile.

"Madam," Alvaro said to Curra with the courtesy he showed to everyone, noble or commoner, "will you come with us? You may of course prefer to stay, and we would not hinder that, but I know Leonora would like a friend..."

Curra grinned. "I was hoping you'd ask! I don't fancy staying around here and getting sacked when the old man finds out you've gone."

The three of them rode away, into the darkness.

*

"Gone!" the Marquis of Calatrava groaned. He held in his hand a note from Leonora. "And married, she says! -- and bedded too, I warrant, by this time."

Carlo di Vargas slouched in his seat. He did not see what his father expected him to do about it. Which was, of course, the Marquis' cue to say, "My son, you must avenge ourselves on this half-breed who has sullied our name, who has forced himself on your innocent sister, who has tainted our blood with his --"

Carlo rolled his eyes. "Oh Dad, if they're married, and it sounded from the letter like she was pretty excited about it, then he hasn't exactly sullied her or forced her. And come on, if he's half Peruvian, that isn't the end of the world."

The Marquis grumbled, "I knew I shouldn't have sent you to that progressive school," and stomped off, leaving Carlo to his own thoughts.

He'd never met Don Alvaro, but Leonora had told him enough about him that he wanted to: his nobility, his bravery, his fighting prowess... maybe they would meet someday, and maybe they could even be best friends!

Leonora had left him her address, which of course he hadn't told his father. Looking around to make sure the Marquis was nowhere nearby, he scrounged for a pen and paper and started writing her a letter.

[watersword]

Billy Budd! DESPERATELY needs an edit for dumbassery.

[cahn]

In which Vere is almost as pompous, but way more sensible :)
---------------
I am an old man now, I, Edward Fairfax Vere, who commanded the Indomitable. Many years I have pondered eternal truth. I have read books and studied my whole life, but it was in that faraway summer of seventeen hundred and ninety-seven that I began to think even more of the questions of good and evil.

That summer, the man Billy Budd was impressed onto the Indomitable. The first time I met him I knew immediately that in him was only good, and no evil, as if he were a star, or a baby. And I had good reports of him. All loved him, all spoke of his goodness -- except for one.

The Master-at-Arms, John Claggart, hated him, and accused him of mutiny. He came to me with a tale that Billy had given gold to a boy on the ship, the Novice, trying to incite him to mutiny. I knew at once the story was folly. Where would a common seaman like that get gold, and to what purpose would he mutiny, when he had every right to believe he would rise in the ranks of the Indomitable?

I sent for the Novice and questioned him, taking care that Claggart was nowhere about. I was gentle, and promised him there would be no retaliation for whatever he said. What he said appalled and amazed me. Claggart had charged him to suborn Billy, so that he should escape a whipping, a whipping like the one that had broken him; aye, the Novice was a broken man. And yet he told me with tears in his eyes, "Not Billy, sir! If it had been anyone else, I had followed Claggart and not told you -- but Billy, sir!" Then he cried and asked me to protect me from Claggart.

I made more inquiries among the men, as I should have done many days ago, and found that all knew of Claggart's cruelty, and one man had heard him say that he should destroy Billy. I called for Billy, again without Claggart, and questioned him. He knew nothing of mutiny, and only thought that I had called him there to make him captain of the mizzen. (I did not, but he attained that status soon after these events of which I write.)

Finally, I sent for Claggart, and told him what I had found. At first he denied it; but when I held firm in my belief that Billy was up to no harm, he turned on me and confirmed, with profanity and vulgarity, that he intended to annihilate Billy, and came towards me with hands outstretched as if to attack me.

And I drew my pistol and shot him dead.

I called the officers and told him Claggart had been raving, and had threatened me. I told them I must be put on trial, and we held a trial, there in my cabin with Claggart's dead body between us. They found me not guilty.

So Billy was saved, and with Claggart gone the ship became a happier place. I too was a better captain for it, for it taught me to talk to the men themselves, to find out their problems and not rely solely upon my officers.

A better captain, and a better ship, and Billy saved! Was it worth the price of one man, an evil man, and I a murderer of my own officer, though in self-defense? I think so, and yet. Here is the conundrum of good and evil; is it possible that good may be done by evil actions? This is what I learned that summer, ages ago, centuries ago, when I, Edward Fairfax Vere, commanded the Indomitable.

[zdenka]

Hmm, how about Il Trovatore?

[cahn]

...I must admit I am a big fan of Leonora/No One In This Opera :P
------------------------------
As Leonora made her way to the altar to be presented to God as a nun, the Count di Luna burst in with his men. "No, never, Leonora! You are mine!"

And then the Troubador Manrico appeared as well. Leonora smiled in joy, but his eyes were instead fixed on the Count.

"You should be dead! Is it possible that the dead can leave death's eternal realm!" the Count snarled at him, drawing his sword from its sheath.

"God succored me," Manrico said, but almost abstractedly. And then, still looking at the Count: "God has saved me so that I may tell you this, Count: I have lately learned something you also must know. My mother, Azucena, was not the woman who bore me. She stole me away... from your father the old Count. I am your brother!"

All gasped. The Count said flatly, "That cannot be! But --" He hesitated.

Ferrando, beside him, said suddenly, "I see the resemblance, sir. The shape of your father's face, and your mother's eyes. "

"Then," the Count said, his voice breaking, "it is you whom I have sought for so many years, in vain -- and I would have killed you!" And he sheathed his sword and embraced Manrico, and wept unashamedly.

"I never knew why I spared your life, that day on the battlefield," Manrico said softly. "Now I do. I always knew there was something missing in my life -- but only now has it been revealed to me that it was the brother whom I have never known." And he too wept.

Leonora watched them; she was temporarily forgotten. She saw now that most of di Luna's mad love for her -- and perhaps part of Manrico's too -- had been the frustrated love and longing for a brother that he could not find. And her heart rose with happiness for them, and also for herself. She might, she thought, go with Manrico if she so desired -- or even with the Count -- or give herself to God in the end, after all -- or none of those; now that Manrico and di Luna were reconciled, all seemed possible.

[selenak]

Well, the Ring would just be too easy (Alberich gets over being teased by the Rhinemaidens and instead of going for gold gets laid by someone else who's actually interested in him; the end; or: Wotan doesn't attempt to build Valhalla by anyone's labor but his own; the end), so would you consider having a go at Meyerbeer and the Huguenots? Bonus difficulty for being based on history. ;)

[cahn]

Ahahaha, the whole point is that all of these are easy! But you're right, the Ring is a bit trivial :)

Huguenots, yes!! History?... umm... I don't think I'll go for the bonus this time :) (Though I would love to hear your thoughts on it, given that you know at least ten times more history than I do :) )
---------------
Raoul was filled with fury. "Her! The woman whom I saved! The false woman has come here for another!" He pushed past the crowd of people to find her, and saw her departing, veiled. He caught her hand. "You!"

She turned, and seeing him, her face lit up with a joy that gave him pause. "Oh, my friend! I am glad to see you!"

He blinked. It was not the greeting he had expected to find from a woman who had brazenly been going with Nevers. "But... you and Nevers...?"

She blushed, though her face was still open and joyous. "You must not speak of this publicly, but Nevers is my fiance. Was. My father engaged us. But I have asked him to break the engagement, for I love... I love another."

"Oh," Raoul said, feeling extremely foolish. "I must ask your very deep pardon, for I have mistaken you."

She smiled again at him. "Of course you are pardoned! But I must go now, on an important errand -- but I will see you again, very soon!" She hurried away.

Raoul rejoined the party, his mind whirling, and found Nevers. He pulled him aside and wrung his hands. "Listen -- my friend -- I know all. And thank you from the bottom of my heart for your sacrifice -- you are the best and most honorable of men!" And he quickly embraced the surprised Nevers, and strode off to a corner, where Nevers saw him talking and gesticulating to his servant Marcel.

Nevers' eyebrows rose. His feelings had been rather hurt by Valentine's refusal, but he was not a man made for sulking, and he could not help but be both touched and amused by Raoul's words. "Well then," he said aloud, though under his breath, "a Protestant offers the hand of friendship! What will be next, the Queen ordering a Protestant and Catholic bound together in marriage?"

[justplainsavannahd1]

Okay, come on, you've got to do Ballo. Pretty please?

[cahn]

Man, Ballo is crying out for people to behave more sensibly, isn't it. RICCARDO THIS MEANS YOU.
---------------
"Listen," said Amelia's servant to the witch Ulrica; "my mistress, who is waiting outside, wishes to ask your advice in secret."

"Ah," said Ulrica, "let her come, and I shall send the others away."

"Amelia!" Riccardo exclaimed to himself. If he only hid where Ulrica could not see him, he could see Amelia, his beloved; he could listen to the sweet murmurings of her heart as she spoke to Ulrica.

And then his conscience smote him. If Renato found him there, what would he say to him? It was true that Renato loved him, and so might believe any excuse that Riccardo gave, but then would he not be lying to his best friend, his most loyal confidant? And then, was it honorable to spy upon the woman he loved?

No, no! He would not do it. He knew he must leave, so as not to be tempted further. He rushed from Ulrica's house, meeting Oscar outside it. Oscar did not recognize him in his disguise, but he drew him aside and said, "It is I, your king; I will not be meeting you at three o'clock as we had agreed; tell the others."

"Of course," promised Oscar.

In the fresh air, Riccardo's head was clearer and it was easier to think. He knew his passion for Amelia would only get worse if she remained so close. I will send them back to England, he thought, and resolved to draw up the papers as soon as he got back to the palace.