Sorry Graffiti. It seems my do-gooder graffiti artist [ Do-Gooder Graffiti? ] has struck again, this time with a message of "Sorry." As most everyone over the age of three knows, it's always a good idea to apologize when you've done something wrong. Like spray painting on the side of someone else's building.
Wagnerian Opera, the de-brief: Our marriage was not even remotely challenged by five hours of Lohengrin. In fact, we had so much fun on our night out we debated whether or not we wanted to go back home to all those kids. We are not opera aficionados by any stretch of the imagination, but we've been to the opera often enough to have spotted a few differences between a German opera and, well, all the others. In Wagner's Lohengrin, there wasn't a whole lot of moving around. The performers basically stood in one place, or, maybe moved slowly, a few steps here and there. (Considering the size of the two leads, I doubt very highly that moving quickly was an option. I'm not trying to be mean, just doing my journalistic duty as observant blogger.)
In most operas, especially Italian ones, it seems like everyone's moving and dancing and flitting all about the place. Even the set was staid compared to the other operas we've seen. And I can only remember one part that made us laugh out loud. In others, there usually are several, if not more, funny bits. But as my anomalistically funny German friend Rick Kaempfer says, "Germans are efficient, punctual and practical, but let's face it; they aren't funny."
I'd love to hear some insight on any of our musings from a real opera aficionado!
The box suppers were a huge success, despite the fact it took us half the intermission just to find them. You see, they were available for pick up in the lobby or on the third floor. Since our seats were, um, higher up, we opted to pick them up on the third floor. But that was the trick. Because they don't call it the third floor, and it isn't three flights up. They call it the First Upper Balcony or something like that and on your way up you don't pass floors called "First" and "Second", you pass floors called "Dress Circle" and "Mezzanine," which made it fun, in a weird House of Mirrors kind of way.
However, once we finally had our suppers, we found a nice quiet place to sit and eat them. The stairs. With all the other folks in their fancy clothes. Although I did see, as expected, an unusually large amount of women wearing slacks. Apparently when you're facing down five hours of opera, you leave the ball gown at home.
One final note: Something I've noticed in our years of going to opera at the Lyric, is when it comes to behavior, e.g. waiting in line, general courtesy, etc., I've found people to be much more considerate at Wrigley Field.
r.e. Geezer Parenting: When I read Rick's blog, [Tips for Geezer Parents], it reminded me of Birdie, the game I used to play with my sons when they were little. My husband's take on the game? "Only you could invent a game you play while sitting on the couch." You see, I was the Mama Bird and I had to stay in the nest (the couch.) The baby birds would learn to fly with my encouragement, and when they did, then they were in "training" to go get food. Sometimes, we'd have to fight off evil predators, like an owl perhaps. Regardless, it was alway very important for this geezer parent, er Mama Bird, to stay in the nest.
Although these days, without even realizing it, I've become an even bigger fan of a game Rick recommends; the one called "Hide."