Butterfly Season

Next on the list for the new, older me was my last trip to the opera this season. What's that? You didn't know I had season tickets to Vancouver Opera? But of course! Oh, what I sophisticated flower I have bloomed into…

Actually come to realize it, I don't think I've blogged about any of the operas I went to this year (and I went to four!). Lazy me, just writing giant long entries whenever we go on trips somewhere or when the Olympics come to town, pfft. Well that might just have to change! (Or I might just be writing about this opera as an excuse to show pictures of my fancy pedicure… one can only guess).


Waiting at the bus stop by my sophisticated self. My overall maturity and intellectual loftiness must just frighten people away. It can't have anything to do with my giant weird sunglasses.


On the bus on the way there I decided to finally take a picture of my fancy nails for y'all.


Oooh la la!

Ahem, as for the opera. I had honestly been looking forward to this show since way back last year when I got my ticket pack. Madama Buttefly, the tale of a pleasure-seeking American naval officer in Japan and the young geisha who marries him only to be ruined by her own hopes and dreams. Hrm. White guy can't get laid at home so goes to Asia in search of tiny manhood-starved woman? That story is so original it sets off fireworks of inspiration in my soul.

Ok ok, my own scathing observations aside, this story is really touching. From my limited observations, you are technically allowed to "spoil" operas but I somehow still don't feel right about it. The story isn't even really about who does or doesn't die in the end anyway - and somebody always will, because it's an opera - it's a story of deep devotion and bitter disappointment and will leave you mournful and angry and enthralled all at the same time.

And if I may just continue to play opera connoisseur a little longer; the real treat in this production ended up being the incredibly colourful, angular and altogether evocative design of the whole show. People will often say they don’t like it when old stories and plays are put in modern or abstract settings, but I dare them to see this opera and keep that blanket opinion! Oh, and the singing was pretty good too.


Here’s my sorry attempt at illegal picture-taking inside the theatre from my bargain seat in the back row. And that's only the design of the pre-show curtain.


Hanging out with my fellow dilettantes at intermission.

Ah, intermission - the make or break of the opera-goer. It broke me the last two times, I'll tell you. (What's that you're sensing? An anecdote coming on?) You see, my season tickets were for Thursday night shows across the board. Which is great, because I have Fridays off for sleeping in, and operas can get quite late seeing as they're 3(+) hours long and all. My problem was that Thursdays (aka opera day) I do go to work and that means I get up as close to 6:00am as I am physically able. The problem comes when you've been up since the crack of dawn, and here you are, way in the back of the balcony where all the heat of all those people down below you has spent the past two hours wafting up to, listening to beautiful classical music in pitch-darkness. It just won't matter how many dreamy tenors there are prancing around on stage, your eyes are going to c l o s e.

This year's season:
Norma - barely kept it together
Nixon in China - nodded off
Marriage of Figaro - zonked right out

Now, it doesn't mean that I don't appreciate the shows! I actually get terribly mad that I miss the endings but I seriously can not help it! I was so disappointed that last time that I vowed to never to break down again, and I developed a strategy:

Step 1 - come home from work and brew some strong coffee, even though you normally don't drink coffee
Step 2 - drink half of it with dinner
Step 3 - ice the other half and put it in a sealed bottle in your purse
Step 4 - add to your purse ice packs and a straw
Step 5 - smuggle your secret weapon into the opera (this is not difficult)
Step 6 - at intermission find a quiet corner away from the hoity-toitys and covertly slip the straw into your purse and the bottle of still-refreshingly-cold iced coffee (you will most likely not be bothered, but if you are, hopefully your leopard-print shoes along with your redder-than-red nails and bizarre sunglasses will stave off any confrontations).

And there you have it. Nicely cooled off and at the same time perfectly perked and ready to absorb every last note. A very successful strategy, if I do say so myself. Of course, if you're not into running your own personal caffeine cartel, you could just buy cup of intermission coffee from the theatre's concession… but where's the fun in that??

Right. Well thank you for checking out my pedicure - uh - I mean my riveting account of the opera. More adventures coming soon from Astrogirl and Euroboy as we take on the Summer of 2010.