Mama Artists

Having babies has been on my "Maybe Someday" list for a long time. But something is shifting.

Eric surprised me with tickets to Verdi's La Traviata at the Cowles Center. It was a stripped down production with no sets or costumes. One of the sopranos was gloriously, Venus of Willendorf-ishly pregnant. She stood in the spotlights in her black evening gown, hair spun into a French twist, neck and wrists dripping with glittering jewelry. I couldn't stop looking at her belly as she sang- watching it lift and pulse as she belted out arias. I imagined the little baby inside of her, listening to those sounds vibrating all around her body, comprehending none of it, but understanding it perfectly.

A few weeks later, we went to see the James Sewell Ballet at the very same theater. The dances ranged from traditional to modern, the performers wearing tutus in one sequence and leopard spotted spandex in another. One of the dancers, long and lanky with acres of neck and legs, was also pregnant. She wore a sheer black blouse over a black bra and tiny shorts- her belly sitting low and oval, like an ostrich egg. Her pregnancy was unmistakable and yet not the first thing you noticed. Her confidence and self possession shined out of every movement she made. She leaped and jumped all over the stage, so light and free in her changed body. I wondered the about her and her baby- what was their life like? How had she decided to get pregnant? Was this her first baby? Did she ever feel nervous moving like that with a baby?

I thought about these two women for weeks. How strange see two hometown performers in different mediums both pregnant at separate shows only a few weeks apart. Both women were doing creative work that demanded so much from their bodies- they had to be completely engaged in what they were doing. Both could have opted out, maybe were even advised to, yet neither one did.

You can choose to become lost to yourself. You can ignore the lessons life offers you by looking at the wrong things, avoiding pain, deadening your feelings, zoning out. So it must be the same with parenthood. Children can either be something to lose yourself in, or something to discover yourself through.

Entering into parenthood feels even more sacred than marriage to me. You are guiding a spirit into a body, teaching it how to be human, how to move through the world. You must be worthy of imitation, in the words of Rudolf Steiner. It fills me with awe to even think of it- bringing something from the void. By mixing my soul with my husband's, we can bring forth a new being- it's such an honor and tremendous responsibility.

That's why seeing those Mamas up there touched me so much- I couldn't look away. For them, motherhood didn't stop their work, it enhanced it. It pushed them further into the mystery of living, pushed them deeper into the reasons they make art to begin with. At it's best, art puts you in touch with the unknowable, the awesome, the deep possibilities. And at it's best, parenthood offers you the same lessons. I wonder why I never understood that before.

Visiting Vienna: An Afternoon at the Opera

I want to be the sort of person who loves theater in general and opera in particular, but I have to confess that both leave me cold. Theater going experiences are so variable- sometimes wonderful, but oftentimes I feel lukewarm about the performances, costumes, singing, plot or all of the above. And it's invariably an expensive proposition going to the theater, while comparatively (and in more ways than one), most movies are cheap.

I'd been to see three operas before- all in Eric's company and all in German. I slept through one, but I blame extreme jet lag and no subtitles. In Vienna, I couldn't wait to give it another go since it's The Opera Capital of the World.

Due to a minor ticketing snafu and one very kind box office agent, we ended up sitting in a box for an afternoon performance of Strauss's Die Fledermaus at The Volkstheater for around $17 USD. I felt so queenly walking into that sumptuous little box all done up in thickly padded red velvet chairs, red damask wall paper and pretty crystal light fixtures. (And glad I decided to dress up for a matinee!)

The audience was mostly school children, which surprised us given the sexual innuendo in this opera. However, the objective seemed to be exposing children to a high culture experience rather than getting them to understand the intricacies of plot and double entendres. Even though the wiggled and whispered through the performance, most of these kids will grow up to be Vienese people who can't get enough Opera. In fact, as adults, they will spend summer evenings down at the Rathaus eating Indian curries or Thai noodles on porcelain plates with a big glass of wine or beer on a folding chair, raptly watching opera on a vast outdoor screen. That's what tradition and culture mean to Vienna and it was lovely to see the adults helping to facilitate this life long love affair with culture for their students.

The subtitles and wonderful acting made it easy to follow this Opera which certainly adds enjoyment. The farce kept building to a chaotic and climactic final scene that made us laugh out loud. I may have to give theater a second chance. Have you ever been to an Opera? What did you love? What did you hate?