Thursday evening of a couple weeks ago, I went to my first opera, accompanied by my dear friend, Misty. It was, to say the least, among the most marvelous and enchanting experiences thus far in my life. I felt as if I was in a dream-one from which I hardly wanted to wake up.
From the box seats we occupied, we looked down upon a world of musical and theatrical wonder.I was a newcomer, to be sure, but I fell in love with that world in an instant. A world of glamour and evening gowns. It was a world you could enter for an evening and be as sophisticated and cultured as you could manage. You could walk with a head held high and a confident stride, being or pretending to be one of the elite.
Misty and I feel justified now in referring to ourselves as “opera snobs.” Or perhaps that’s just our theatrical alter egos… Needless to say, it did not take long for me to realize that this would be the first of many operas for me, and by the end of Act I, we were already planning which ones we would attend in the months to come.
I must say: It was rather a shame that I was quite nearly the youngest one there.
Il Barbiere di Siviglia– The Barber of Seville. Figarro charmed me, Count Almaviva entertained me, Rosina amused me; And the orchestra thoroughly delighted me! Upon leaving the performing arts center, we were bid adieu by a brass band of street musicians adding to the enchantment of the evening and satisfied in doing so. The streets of Charlotte felt as alive as the breeze that rustled both our hair and our imaginations.
And that, my friends, was the night I fell in love with opera.