For most people, the word “opera” invokes images of chubby European men and women blaring about love, death and country on an ornately decorated stage while a full orchestra swells in the background. For me, “opera” recalls childhood trips with my father to the San Francisco Metropolitan Opera. My mother hated to go and so I was always my father’s companion, and for this reason I consider myself a legitimate opera fan. Needless to say I am biased about opera for this reason, but I’m pretty sure most other audience members walked away from “Patterns of Inheritance,” the student-produced opera which ran two weekends ago, confused, disappointed or both.

In all fairness “Patterns” was visually very interesting. The set design was truly inspired, with one wall of the 92′ Theater covered in a net-like weaving of newspaper clippings, VHS tapes, books and other media-themed objects. Toward the end of the opera, actors tore apart books in a fit of anguish, leaving a sad, lifeless pile of paper in the middle of the stage. In addition to their attention-grabbing aesthetic, these visual elements conveyed a mood of media-saturation and simultaneous estrangement that aligned with the opera’s thematic preoccupations. It was also hard not to wonder about the man-hours required to make such an intricate and creative set.

Another appealing visual aspect of “Patterns” were the costumes, especially those worn by the three women comprising the chorus, which reminded me of Alexander McQueen’s Fall 2008 collection as shown in Vogue. With their juxtaposition of billowing white gauze gowns and darker punkish elements, the costumes conveyed (to echo McQueen’s self-described aesthetic) “a sophisticated sense of deconstruction.” So even when the going in “Patterns” got tough, I enjoyed the costumes and set.

And get tough it did. The concept behind “Patterns” was to take material from the internet (blogs, Wikipedia articles, etc.), and use the found text as lyrics. This type of creative process is widespread in the theater community and has been popularized by the likes of Charles Mee, who created his seminal play “Big Love” (which was performed as a faculty production last year) entirely out of found text. The crucial difference between “Patterns” and, for example, a play like “Big Love” is that the latter had a plot and characters. “Patterns” had no clear plot to speak of, and the different singers’ lines, which were random bits of news and information about the war in Iraq, the elections and other current events, seemed not to relate to their individual characters at all. Midway through the opera I had the sense I was being preached to by every singer on stage, but I didn’t understand what the message was. Should I support Obama? McCain? Should I read more or less? What exactly is the problem? This ambiguity and lack of plot may have been the director’s intention, but it didn’t work. Since each singer could only speak in slogans or aphorisms, I quickly lost interest. I was most bored, however, by the lack of plot, or conflict. Perhaps the conflict was the media or current affairs, but because these themes were not embodied by a single actor, the conflict could not be engaged with or resolved.

“They didn’t lose me until the curtain call,” said an Art Studio major who preferred to remain anonymous so as not to alienate his friends. “If you want to do an avant-garde piece then great, but don’t try to pretend like it’s a legit production with bowing and clapping at the end.”

All of this was a shame because the acoustics and musical score were so impressive. Each actor was equipped with a microphone, and a live chamber orchestra supplied music throughout the opera, which employed an unusually large sound crew and production team. I only wish the words being sung were as compelling as the environment holding them up.