We're off to the opera!
My exposure to opera has been sporadic. When I was very young, Dad had a small number of famous operatic arias and other classical pieces on '78 records. Even at a young age, I could tell that some of the performances were 'special', but I knew little about them, and for many years contemporary music held a much greater attraction.
In the early 1970s my sister and I accompanied Dad (Mum was indisposed) and a number of pupils from his school to a performance of The Barber of Seville at the Coliseum in London. My own copy of the programme for that performance is buried deep in a box of ephemera in the loft, so this picture I lifted off the internet will have to suffice:
In the years that followed I had eventually and slowly added to my collection of operas on CD, as well as building up a not-insignificant collection of recordings of the BBC's Saturday night "Opera on Three", but for whatever reasons, had never suggested going to a live performance.
Finally, in 2018, during the planning of our second visit to Vienna, we discovered that, by coincidence, the Vienna State Opera would be performing "The Barber of Seville" while we were in town - and tickets were duly ordered. (See here for an account of that outing).
And so to today - our first visit to the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. I already had the feeling that this would turn out to be either a one-off, to be ticked off my bucket-list, or the start of a new and (hopefully) long-standing relationship. As seen above, for our first visit I had suggested going to see "The Marriage of Figaro", which we had previously seen on TV on more than one occasion, and which was one of my first operatic CD acquisitions.
My late mother's 1940 copy of The Complete Opera Book by Gustav Kobbé told me that Mozart composed this opera in a month, and that the finale to the Second Act took him all of two days to write and that (fittingly, given my sparse exposure to live opera) the story of "The Marriage of Figaro" is a sequel to that of The Barber of Seville.
A straightforward drive down, a quick rest and then ready to venture out:
Down to Reception, where the constant drizzle outside persuaded us to ask them to get us a cab to Ealing Broadway Station.
As The Pointer Sisters so very nearly proclaimed: "We're so excited, and we just can't hide it...":
An uneventful journey on the Queen Elizabeth Line to Tottenham Court Road, where we sheltered from the rain and killed time for a few minutes:
The boss enjoyed a bottle of Brooklyn Lager:
Out, and a brisk five-minute walk north to Covent Garden and the Bow Street entrance to the Royal Opera House.
Last minute brushing-up of the plot:
This will do very nicely:
Obligatory selfie:
An uneventful return trip back to Ealing Broadway, and then another brisk walk through light drizzle back to the hotel, arriving at ~23.45, or (more importantly) - 15 minutes before the bar closed. A pint of lime and soda for yours truly, while A made the most of her non-driving status with a rare G&T:
i Seen and Heard International Express London Unattached musicOMH The Guardian The Times
When we judged the time right to arrive for our reservation we hailed another cab to take us to Burleigh Street, and specifically, Joe Allen - about which I have written before - both here and here.
Our reserved table (in the upper dining room) was not quite ready for us, so we opted instead to sit at one of the tables in the (to my mind, usually more fun) lower level. This might have been a slight miscalulation on my part, as the place was MUCH busier than during previous visits, and we might well have enjoyed the peace and quiet upstairs rather more. No matter - what was done was done.
while I quaffed the most outrageously priced Coke I've had in a very long time - an old-fashioned glass filled with ice and perhaps, in total, four mouthfuls of Coke (which tasted watery) - all for the princely sum of £3.50 - come on Joe!
To eat, Amanda chose a hot smoked salmon fishcake with poached egg, caper &
dill sauce and wilted baby spinach, while I opted for a crispy shrimp burger (just for a change), complete with Korean spiced slaw and fries:
To follow, I opted for "Baked vanilla cheesecake with strawberries", while Amanda selected "Chocolate chip cookie with vanilla ice cream":
It was still a fun visit, but uncomfortably noisy and a little crowded (probably with the pre-evening and post-matinee crowds), and there was a slight feeling that the shine had started to go off. Perhaps next time we go we'll aim to hit the mid-afternoon sweet spot when the place is less busy than a branch of KFC at pub chucking-out time...
Since this was our first visit we took a few minutes to explore and to orient ourselves. As expected, our fellow audients sported a variety of outfits, from dinner suits and dickie bows (actually few and far between) to jeans and jumpers. Perhaps my favourite outfit of the evening was the traditional yellow kimono worn by a young (8-9?) Japanese girl - who was herself admiring the floaty, gauzy Western princess dresses on sale in the shop...
Up a fight of stairs, from which we captured this view of the entrance to the Paul Hamlyn Hall with its integral champagne bar:
and this entrance to the Dorfman Conservatory bar:
and then through these doors to the Donald Gordon Grand Tier and our central front-row seats:
It is worth noting, in passing, that the ROH has perhaps the most relaxed approach to security that I have seen in a public venue for a very long time. As we entered the building there was the usual cursory non-invasive bag check, which I imagine most four-year-olds could defeat. Once we were inside there were no further checks - even to the extent that as we walked into the Donald Gordon Grand Tier there wasn't even any attempt to check our tickets, or even to check if we HAD tickets. Opera obviously attracts a less nefarious type of punter.
Not a brilliant composite, but it gives a reasonable representation of our view:
The House lights were lowered and we settled back into out seats... ...and a figure in a dinner jacket strode out onto the stage in front of the curtain. "Don't worry", he reassured us, "nobody's ill!".
It transpired that, in addition to this being the last performance of this run, tonight also marked the retirement, after 54 years as a member of the Orchestra, of Principal Viola player Richard Peake, and we were invited to join the House in wishing him well.
Formalities over, we settled down for a genuinely wonderful performance.
As usual, I won't attempt a critique - the reviews below provide that. However, it very quickly became apparent that this was not to be a one-off visit but, hopefully, the first of many.
A significant number of curtain calls (our arms started to ache), including one for Richard Peake, and then it was all over.
Out, and (as could have been predicted on a drizzly Saturday night at theatre-chucking-out time) nary a cab in sight. Guided by our unerring sense of direction we walked swiftly along Bow street, Long Acre, Shaftesbury Avenue and Dean Street up to the Queen Elizabeth Line end of Tottenham Court Road station.
Up and out the next morning. Checked out and the car packed, we strolled down to Ealing High Street and the local Pret a Manger for breakfast - your correspondent looking slightly less bright-eyed and bushy-tailed than his partner in crime:
As we sat and watched the world go by we were both struck by how busy the streets were for 09.30 on a Sunday morning. Moreover, a significant proportion of those out and about were carrying (or more accurately these days, pulling) suitcases. Since Ealing is not the most obvious destination for a holiday, we assumed that many, like us, were using it as a staging post - far enough from central London for accommodation to be noticeably cheaper, but close enough to make access to the centre quick and easy. The fact that the QEL also extends out to Heathrow no doubt also increases the attraction of the area for brief stopovers.
Back to the hotel to collect the car, and a straightforward run home.
