O for Operas

Do you know how the inside of an opera hall looks? Exactly like how they show it out there in 'Pretty Woman'.And, I always thought that scene was a figment of the imagination of a very creative art director!

My first (and only) tryst with operas came about in Prague mid last year on the first leg of our phenomenally lovely trip to Eastern Europe. True to the backpacker in us, we were meandering around Prague with no goal or objective, no plan in place, and a by-then, literally beaten to death, hard copy map. 

We had just then finished a long walk in the hot sun, got into a cafe by the banks of the river to quench our thirst only to be greeted by the spectacle of fully drunk nude young men jumping into the river as a dare to each other(many a picture was being taken, they must have had a terrible sight greeting them when they got sober), and then got drenched in some unsolicited rain forcing us to buy a couple of expensive umbrellas that blew away in the wind. That is when we came across that counter, selling tickets to an opera that evening.

Didn't we come to Prague just to see the opera, we reasoned to ourselves, as we tried hard to identify the cheapest tickets possible. Yes, luck and luck, and there we were, at the theater, shabbily dressed backpackers getting into line behind tuxedo-sporting, ball-gown wearing patrons of the opera. We did think we would be denied entry, but then, no one cared and we were inside in no time, perched on some very uncomfortable high seats in one of the last rows of a ginormous opera hall, waiting for the show to begin. The seats were nothing like the private seating from Pretty Woman, but the view was perfect.

Macbeth, the play, began. We had missed the minor point that the play was in Italian when we bought the tickets, but music has no language. No? The show did have subtitles in English and really, it didn't matter. Known language or unknown, it was extremely boring, and dragged on with people in black, blacker and blackest attires panning out some really soul-stirring music. There is only so much sorrow, grief and guilt that one can take sitting in the audience.

By half time, we were nodding off, and we decided to make a dash for the exit. For, we had come for the experience, and we had got the experience we wanted. Who cares about sitting through the end of the show?

Last month, a friend was advising me that the opera is a must do when I plan a trip to Italy next. I politely nodded, while making a mental note to steer clear of at least 5km radius around the opera area in Italy, wherever that is.

P. S. This post is the fifteenth in the A-Z blogging challenge series for April.