Yep. I could listen to the Queen of the Night’s aria from Flute over and over and over and over and over…
I went to see Madama Butterfly live for the first time, and I knew what was coming–I had tissue ready.
I needed it, too.
Yes, that’s a beauty. “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen. . .”, which translates to “The vengeance of Hell boils in my heart.” Scary.
Another great one. Libretto by Jean Cocteau, translated into Latin by, of all people, Jean Danielou (Jesuit, theologian, theological expert at the Second Vatican Council and, later in life, a cardinal). What an astounding coming-together of talent. Paris in the twenties was an amazing place.
Is it weird that I generally only like operas performed in English? I don’t mind excerpts of others, but I can’t sit still for an opera I have to try and follow flitting between the performers and a sheet of paper. (It’s even worse if I don’t have the visuals.)
And I was a flippin’ music major in college. I like singing in other languages, but I prefer to listen to my own.
Puccini is great at writing tearjerkers. Here are a couple of prime exampes: O Mio Babbino Caro, Non piangere Liu, Signore ascolta, Coro a bocca chiusa, Perché tarda la luna?, Che gelida manina, Nessun dorma, and of course Un bel di vedremo.
Every single one of those is capable of moving me to tears.
Henry Purcell’s opera Dido and Aeneas has one of the most wonderful arias in opera, “When I am laid in earth”.
Of course, that one is a funny one for a tear-jerker, since that is a comedy opera. It’s supposed to be a totally over-the-top aria, in which she tells her supposed uncle who is dying that, if he won’t will her the money to allow her to marry her love, she’ll throw herself off the bridge and die.
Of course, it’s perhaps the most beautiful aria ever written, which tends to cause one to take it more seriously than intended at the time. :o 
Actually, if I remember correctly, it’s “For unto us a child is born. Unto us a son is given.”
:smack:
You’re so close, I feel bad for nit-picking. She’s singing it to her father to try to convince him to come up with some scheme or other to change Buoso Donati’s will so that the Donati family will inherit his tremendous wealth instead of the monks at the monastery. If the Donati family inherits, Buoso’s nephew Rinuccio can marry Schicchi’s daughter, Lauretta, against the wishes of both families. One of the best things about the aria is that she shows she is just as wily and tricky a manipulator as her father.
The rest of the opera is fantastic, bordering on Monty Python in its depiction of this nasty family of witless snobs and the macabre scheme that Schicchi comes up with. An hour well spent!
I know! It’s beautiful, but not pretty!
I was so excited to see it live this past year–I wanted to be there for those high notes, just to assure myself that the human voice could do it.
I am reminded, by the start of the official start of the Christmas season, that I’ve got one other exception: Amahl and the Night Visitors (to which I’m listening as I type – “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you kindly! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you kindly, too!”).
“There once was a man called Oedipus Rex, you may have heard about his odd complex…”
[Changing this into a limerick…]
"He murdered his father,
he married his mother,
and … "
I got nothin’.
Someone else care to finish?
If you like The Marriage of Figaro, I’d say there’s plenty of other opera that should appeal to you …
I just saw *Turandot * in the movie theater (part of the Metropolitan Opera HD Live series). It was wonderful.
If you liked Figaro, you might try Cosi Fan Tutte, which is by the same composer/lyricist team. (Mozart/Daponte). Some will call me a heretic, but I prefer Cosi. I find myself humming/whistling/singing more of the music than I do when I work on Figaro.
And Cosi has a smaller cast. Usually easier to stage, which often gives me more ways of lighting it.