An Opera as a Graphic Novel?

Remember 2020? Course you do. Remember how all the shows and events were cancelled? Remember how long it took to get them started up again? So, in that in-between time, companies tried out different things. Online streaming. Behind the scenes videos. Arizona Opera put together The Copper Queen, which came out in theaters in 2021. But filming an opera as a movie instead of producing it as a live show is still a visual medium with performers and sight and sound and song. It was different--but not altogether. Their other experimental project that came out of that time was even more different.

I'm referring to the graphic novel of Carmen, which was adapted by Alek Schrader, P. Craig Russel, and Aneke. A graphic novel is long in the making. I believe it was announced in December 2021 and the Kickstarter campaign began the following spring. Kickstarter can be a bit of a set-it-and-forget-it type of thing. Even though there were updates in the following months, I was still caught pleasantly by surprise to find the actual, physical graphic novel in my hands this week. 

One hardly knew what to expect from such a project. But it's quite a nice volume the team put together. It's big and hardcover (and printed in Canada). I haven't read many graphic novels, so I'm not the best judge of this. But it was easy to read and follow along with. The dialogue and action flowed. While the visuals were kept to a simple style, they still conveyed strong emotions--in the same dramatic way that emotion comes across when I'm watching an opera on stage. I also have never watched Carmen. Rather than taking that as a negative, though, it meant that I was able to see just how much I enjoyed the story in its own right and felt each emotional beat as I flipped the pages--even without having any previous knowledge of or connection with the story.

I left off hoping that I do get to see the opera in person sometime. The book was emotionally stirring, with plenty of action and drama. I enjoyed following the story and picturing the music. The bold color palette matches the bold plot and characters. 

The idea of a project like this seems like it's to get more people into opera who wouldn't normally be. But I wonder if it doesn't work the opposite way, in getting people who enjoy opera more into graphic novels. Someone who has never read a graphic novel before is probably more likely to read this book (because of the opera) than it is likely for someone who has never seen an opera (but is into graphic novels) to read it. I could be wrong about that. (And this conversation is also going along with the assumption that there are two different groups of people--those who watch operas and those who read graphic novels. But since they're both sort of niche things, I wonder if there isn't more crossover between the audiences than one would think. People who like one niche type of content tend to like many niche things.) But either way, crossover and artistic experimentation can be fun--and they really did do such a great job with this volume that it will be a satisfying read for whoever it is that comes across it. 

Blue Stripes: Madagascar Vanilla Cacao Water

A few years ago, I wrote about the Cacao Juice from Repurposed Pod that I got at Black Butterfly over in Prescott. More recently, I picked up a bottle of Cacao Water from Blue Stripes Urban Cacao. I'm not entirely sure if this is a separate company or if it's just a newer name for the same company. Either way, Blue Stripes is definitely worth checking out. They like to focus on cacao as a superfood. As such, you will find not only plenty of cacao water on their website but also cacao fruit smoothie pouches and dried cacao. Dried cacao? I must needs check that out.

As I mentioned last time, the idea of cacao water or juice or whatever you want to call it is that a great deal of what's in a cocoa pod gets wasted in the production of chocolate. This makes me think of something Art Pollard of Amano Chocolate once said; he said that his favorite way to taste chocolate was as the cocoa beans surrounded by pulp, fresh from the pod. At the time, I never thought I would get the opportunity to taste such cocoa, as I'm not exactly planning any trips to a cocoa plantation anytime soon. (I have since found that you can guy cocoa pods online from specialty fruit importers--maybe someday I'll have a cocoa pod party.) But cacao water does get you just a step closer to looking at the whole pod, not just a processed product made out of its seeds (aka. chocolate). 

Most of my comments from before still hold for this product, except that this time I got Madagascar Vanilla. Other flavors are Mango and Chili Lime. Vanilla seemed like just a mild flavor element, which is why I started there, though the others probably go quite well, too. After all, remember, this is a tangy beverage. I likened the honey-colored liquid to a type of lemonade. So when you add vanilla to it, the effect isn't entirely unlike honey lemonade. Especially on the first couple of sips, your mind doesn't entirely know what to do with the flavors. Honey lemonade just seems like the most familiar thing to latch onto.

How do you describe it, besides to say that it is tangy? It isn't sweet, though the vanilla gives a hint of sweet flavor--and yet it is more sweet than some fruits. This is where the lychee comparison came in last time. Lychee also has that tangy almost sweet type of flavor. There is a thick and heavy aroma to the beverage this time that I don't remember noting last time--so I'm going to say that it comes mainly from the vanilla and not as much from the cacao. While, in theory, vanilla should make such a drink more palatable, I feel like I enjoyed the plain version more. It's been a few years, so I really can't say; I would have to do a side by side. It could be that last time was just when the whole idea was new to me, so I was very excited about the overall product. But I didn't feel like it was lacking in anything when it was plain. My recommendation at this point, then, would probably be to either get it plain or to try the Mango or the Chili Lime. 

But whatever flavor you settle on, the product is great. I like the idea of it, and I like the way it tastes. If it's a superfood beverage, well, it's a fun one. It doesn't taste anything like chocolate, if you hadn't realized that by this point. But it's a nice drink to keep on the refrigerator shelf between the coconut water and the açaí juice for days when you just want a little extra boost. 

Something Stirs in the Night

A rustle comes from deep in the dark of the desert. No, several rustles. Small and swift. Jackrabbits, maybe? The sound isn't right for a heavy javelina. Just turn to the side and take a look and see. There, in the light, a swarm of slippery critters, teeth gnashing in tandem. Perhaps their small size will be enough to keep you safe.

But oh, what's this? Something louder but just as quick. Maybe a slender, muscular mountain lion this time? Is that what haunts the hollows bellows the saguaros? But no, those cannot be raptors so fierce and so bold? Never have I heard of raptor desert-dwellers--unless they be the birds-of-prey type of raptors.

Just then a tearing, ripping noise enters in. Maybe accompanied by a snarl. Or was it a gurgle of pleasure? For just there, in the next patch of light, a feathered raptor dips into its moonlit dinner while its hungry friend approaches with hopes of communion. Let the unholy feast continue so long as the toothed mouths are filled with something other than you or me. Let's just try and keep moving, hope they haven't seen us, aye?

Alas, however, the last sound we hear is the loudest of them all. Surely no desert creature was ever so big as this. Two mountains of teeth and claw stand poised against each other, with the fell full moon between their jaws. Muscles ripple beneath scales and limbs stiffen in preparation for the conflict. Never was such a fight as this seen in the Sonoran--at least not for many years. If we were not so affrighted for our lives, perhaps we would be honored. Let's run now, shall we?

Pictures taken at Dinosaurs in the Desert at the Phoenix Zoo. 

To the New Year

New Years can be times for reassessing. Some years, I'm so excited to put together a new year's post about the perspective I want to keep to in the new year. But this year I've let half the month go by without posting anything at all. I think perhaps part of the reason is that I am too busy living to spend time chronicling the hopes--the hopes are here. I don't say, I hope for this or I hope for that. Instead, I say, I have this or am doing that. So I haven't been itching to post my thoughts--because I have been speaking them.

With that being said, however, I do have my new year's post here at long last. I think perhaps this year I'll reorganize my posting schedule. Years ago, I would post every other day. Then I switched to Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. By last year, I started just trying to get two posts out per week--and I stayed very flexible on that. So I think I will go with the two posts per week idea more fully now, keeping the flexibility but also planning for it a little more than I did this past fall/winter. I still need to rethink which days of the week might be best. 

As far as general themes for the year, I have been so focused on identity the last couple of years. I needed to reset and remind myself that my identity stems from God, from who he says I am. And I want to continue that, of course. But now I think I am shifting more towards living things out. I spoke in abstract terms, in the starting place, at the core or base. Now I think I am building out more. You put on your clothing in the morning--and then, all dressed as yourself, go out to face the day. I'm moving past the morning, past the bridge--I think 2023 might just be the new day. And in the new day, I want to remain thankful. Sometimes it's almost easier to cry out to God during the storm than to keep acknowledging him as the giver of every good thing in the bright, sunny day. 

So this year I think the theme this year is reverence toward God through every season. He is the guide through them all. 

Stone Grindz: Peanut Butter Cup 55% Cacao

Apparently Stone Grindz had some eggnog holiday truffles this year. I've probably missed the window of opportunity for those, but today on the eve of Christmas Eve I bring you to you their Halloween Limited Release, Peanut Butter Cup, which is made with a 55% cacao chocolate. I have not in fact been sitting on this chocolate since Halloween; I did get it much later. Still, I realize that I almost put up this review of Halloween after Christmas--so perhaps an apology on tardiness is still in order.

Usually when I review Stone Grindz chocolate bars, they're just in the clear sleeves that they sell them in at the farmer's market. This one is in the full card box garb, which I normally don't get to admire. Stone Grindz may be so micro batch that they don't even have a store front, but that doesn't mean that their quality is any lower or that they only have a handmade, brown bag look. Clean white makes a base for colorful artwork evocative of the cocoa-growing countries, while gold highlights add class and luxury. The card box folds out to black and white photography of cocoa production and the scenic Arizona desert. I like it for the local element, tourists to Arizona can enjoy it for the same reason, and anyone who has this chocolate delivered to another locale can revel in the exoticness.

Inside, the chocolate bar sits in its familiar clear wrapper. I do appreciate that these are resealable: the inability to reseal is normally one of the disadvantages to most non-foil wrappers. The chocolate's face has the familiar alpacas all lined up in rows and columns. On the back, though, I found some unexpected sea salt chips--that would be the Maldon sea salt mentioned in the ingredients. Salt is, after all, a key element in Americans' perceptions of how peanut butter chocolate should taste, thanks to Reese's Cups.

One bite of this chocolate and I saw (or tasted) why I jumped at the opportunity to get this chocolate bar, even though I knew I was going to get to it far after its Halloween label. It's the same type of style as their Almond Butter and Black Lava Salt that I looked at this spring. That is, the peanut butter element is just mixed right in with the chocolate. Yet it tastes distinctively like peanut butter and semisweet chocolate, along with a dash of salt. The infusion is incredible.

Texture-wise, we have a similar situation as with the Almond Butter bar. It's primarily chocolate texture, but softer somehow in a way that your mind can't quite put its finger on. So that subtle difference plus the distinctive peanut butter flavor is what tricks your mind into thinking that you're just eating those two separate elements--except that you can see that they're blended together, and so you are awestruck by how your chocolate tastes like peanut butter. And it's a good, fresh peanut butter flavor, as well, since there are no filler ingredients or oils or anything like that in here. Because it's mixed in with the chocolate, the advantage is also that the peanut butter won't be too different from anyone's go-to peanut butter. For instance, I like the Trader Joe's peanut butter that's just peanuts and salt and can't stand Skippy--so if a chocolate has a peanut butter filling that's suspiciously like Skippy, I probably won't care for it. But if someone else tries a peanut butter filling with no added sugar or oil, they might not like it. That problem is bypassed here by not actually having a peanut butter filling.

The chocolate is a little sweeter on this one, a little less dark. So it's a little more casual perhaps. But still wonderful in its own right and not sweet in the standard sense. It's still quite elegant. Combined with the peanut butter element and that lovely salt, it's magic. That's what this bar is: pure magic. I can picture it pleasing a wide variety of palates. And the limited ingredients mean wider appeal, as well. So if the flavor ever shows up again or next time Stone Grindz decides to play with nut butter chocolate, I highly recommend giving it a try. 

Ariadne auf Naxos

Ariadne auf Naxos was originally intended to be part of Arizona Opera's spring 2020 mainstage productions. After the delay, they brought it back this year for the fall instead, which means that it was at the smaller Herberger Theater instead of at Symphony Hall. The smaller venue felt fitting for this romp of an opera that hits a lighter note than some of the more melodramatic mainstage productions.

For the past several years, I have been diving into the opera having previously known almost nothing about it. I just started watching one, enjoyed it, and kept going. Rather than trying to learn more (other than reading the program and such), I've kept myself as a casual audience-goer. And I like it that way: it proves that you don't have to know the history of the composer or all the cultural nuances of the story to just go to a production and enjoy it. Sometimes you don't even have to know all the details of the plot.

Ariadne auf Naxos can be a slightly complicated storyline to follow: it's an opera within an opera. That is, the characters, after bickering about whether the comedy should go first or the opera, learn that they will have to perform them both simultaneously. So the two groups continue bickering, the opera set about how they have the higher art form and the comedy troupe about how the opera will put everyone to sleep. It becomes a bit of a philosophical debate between the two art forms. High art or pop culture? The arthouse film or the newest superhero movie? The tragedy or the comedy? What makes people cry or what makes them laugh?

Over the course of the production, we as the audience get to see a bit of both. We see comedy to make us laugh and we see sappy drama to stir us. It's actually quite nice, especially for a modern audience who may not be as used to two and a half hours of just sappy drama. The comedy does in fact keep your attention, but not without the benefit of enjoying the sappiness, as well. When the composer is describing his character to Zerbinetta of the comedy troupe, Zerbinetta suggests a simpler, more lighthearted approach--but he insists that "and then she succumbs to death," reveling in the drama of it. I can relate to that. Just put on Bright Star for me and I'll go on and on about the beautiful tragedy of John Keats. Ah, there's nothing like melodrama. 

But there does come a point when we have to say that we ourselves are not John Keats tragically dying at a young age at the beginning of his poignant poetic career. So we do need a bit of Zerbinetta to pull us out of our melancholy, to make us smile and laugh and move forward instead of becoming stagnant. Tragedy happens and it's sad--but only by moving forward do we continue to live. The timing of Ariadne auf Naxos therefore is quite good. Its delay only emphasized the importance of that concept: let's keep on living. 

Alter Eco: Peppermint Creme Truffles

Christmas is just sneaking up on us this year, isn't it? It was all about Thanksgiving coming up, then suddenly all my December plans were here--including some that want to squeeze in but may or may not be able to. So let's hurry and take a look at this year's new grocery store holiday chocolate find. Along with the usuals we've seen before, I saw this green box of Alter Eco Peppermint Creme Truffles. I do see them for sale on their website in regular packaging, which must mean that they are not a seasonal flavor. But it's new to me, so let's indulge in some holiday peppermint.

The holiday element to the little box is light. Besides the green color and a mild floral design, there are just a couple of star shapes. But the green is sufficient, especially on the truffle wrappers themselves. They don't need Christmas trees printed on them to be a welcome addition to a stocking, gift bag, or candy bowl. I like festivity, but I'd rather have a good product that's light on the holiday-specific decorating than a novelty product that is no good to actually eat.

The truffles are the usual round shape with lines cut across the surface. They cut open to reveal a solid white inside. I tasted a little chip of chocolate that broke off to find that there is peppermint oil in the chocolate itself, as well. It's a 58% dark chocolate, so it's definitely on the lighter side. But that's fitting for a candy type product like this, especially when the peppermint oil is going to overpower nuances--and when they're going for the specifically creamy peppermint angle.

Inside, that white creme has that texture that everyone is familiar with who has had Alter Eco truffles. They, of course, have their method of using coconut oil in lieu of cream to give their chocolates a long shelf life for the grocery stores but to also avoid the questionable oils and such that other companies use. Coconut oil yields that silky yet non-plasticy texture (and no coconut flavor). Here, it has more of the peppermint oil and yes, some cream flavor. There is milk listed in the ingredients--so the substitution of coconut oil for creme here isn't to be non-dairy, just for the aforementioned shelf life. 

Naturally, the American mind will taste these and think of Andes Mints. But they are noticeably better, in terms of both the chocolate and the filling. And I don't just mean because these are made with higher quality ingredients. Andes Mints are thin, while these chocolates are fat globes that therefore bring more chocolate and peppermint creme to each bite. That proportion difference on its own gives quite an elevation.

Alter Eco has kept it very classic with these chocolates, and that's what makes them a success, whether as a holiday flavor or later on just as as an addition to their standard line of flavors. I do see that they now make Truffle Thins, which bring the style of their truffles to a chocolate bar shape. That looks even more like Andes Mints--and also looks like a brilliant idea that I will try as soon as they show up at my store.