Wednesday, 2 June 2004

Hob Nobbing at the Royal Opera House

Pops took me to the ballet. At the Royal Opera House. The last bastion of middle class theatre going where it is still the done thing to dress. And the chosen dress was either a devoire spagetti strap number or a summer suit. Lots of strappy sandals, naturally but quite a penchant for the old no no of tights avec le sandal (not good, not good at all - reinforced toes are not attractive, especially when worn with a very delicate and lovely pair of bejewelled high heels.

An excited hubbub rose from the audience who were by all accounts packed in (I was shocked to discover its like the old fashioned theatres - not a spare inch given over to affording some luxury - which is shame considering the great expense that the audience go to). Its grand and and gold with huge stage area and red curtains. Just like the threatre is supposed to be.

At the end people shouted bravo and clapped for several bows. It reminded me of the reaction of the audience of We Will Rock You - so determined to have a great night out that they left their critical discernment at the door (and at We Will Rock You that resulted in a standing ovation of all things), and to be honest it was pretty and grand but not all that.

I sort of feel that I have been spoiled for good theatre - we went a lot while I was growing up, seeing lots of plays with all sorts of different sets, ways of performing and have a leaning towards the more serious, but less traditional forms, I like a bit of boundary-breaking, or challenge.

My brief review here.

No comments: