If you join me here on the blog regularly, you know that I love Opera. It is my favourite activity and really heleps me to process difficult subjects with beautiful music to soften the subject matter..
This was not my first visit to see Rigoletto, that was in Glyndebourne. This was in what has to be hands down the most perfectly beautiful Opera House in the world and no it is not in Europe…. If you want to leave guesses please do….
So again regualar readers know that my youngest daughter was murdered and her sisters were terrorised and died in England. So this story of the parent who tries to protect his his child ( he is the court jester ) is particualarly poignant for me. So t prepare for what i knew was going to be an emotional evening I dress more Rigoletto style than usual more understated dresses.
I am at the gym before so I take time, do a home made blow out on my rather long and overgrown hair, apply so dramatic make up and order a cab.
Another clue to the location it is the 15th year anniversary. I arrive and make my way to the dress circle / royal circle as a special treat. As I sit I am underwhelmed by my company. I cannot choose my neighbour, however a toff from England was not high on my list of choies. I do not mean the old money famillies, who are funny welcoming and charming, I mean the nouveau variety, with slip on shoes and chinos… my 100 per cent worst choice for a neighbour… I refrain from focusing too closely on the fact he is wearing black socks and brown shoes, never a good look. It is however his coughing, sniffing and general lack of Opera manners ( people usually talk politely before and during intervals. definitely led by the man. Nothing non verbal, a coursory ‘Helllo nice to meet you’ then silence ( aside the coughing and sniffing.
The curtain rises and it is the most perfect scenery set I have seen at any opera anywjere in the world…. The opera progresses through the first two acts and I of course cry during the arias defining the love for his child and wanting to keep her safe… Then as the performance progresses to the plan to dress the daughter as a boy. ( My daughters did this alot ) My youngest, the most beautiful blue eyed blonde haired girl dressed as a boy until her murder.
I make the executive decision not to distress myself by watching her murder and deliverance in a sack. So I vacate my seat. It was the right decision for my emotional wellbeing. As I leave the entire building is empty and as I walk slowly in my bright blue and gold dress, I am absolutely sure that for now it is the right decision. Besside sitting next to a toff Brit with few manners and a nasty cough is the right deision.
So Rigoletto was beautiful, but surrounded by people who were in England during my chldren’s murders, It was the right choice…
But the Opera was until the point I left beautiful…