Had it confirmed last evening. B loves opera, so we signed on to an evening of dinner at The Ranchmen's Club, then to the Jubilee Centre to "enjoy" 'La Traviata'. The only reason I went was because of the sumptuous repast before the event. Kenneth Titcombe, head chef, is absolutely fabulous.
Highlight of the evening? We were seated at dinner with a young, professional couple. She is a concert violinist and appears all over the world, he is a mortgage broker. You know how soloists appear on stage, bejewelled and gowned to the back teeth? Well, resplendent in a red-lace, off-the-shoulder evening gown, this gorgeous woman nailed it. By the way, it helped that she was wearing a $900 pair of Ferragamo heels. She gave me all the dope on Amanda Forsythe and Pinchus Zukerman -- they're splitting 'cause she had an affair. Of course she had an affair. Her ego is monstrous. And anyone who would marry Tuesday Weld deserves whatever he gets.
The other highlight was the entrance of a beautiful, young woman who stepped up to the piano and began to sing an aria. I was speechless. She is a budding opera star and the club had invited her to perform. Brilliant.
But back to the opera. It was sooooooooooooo boring! I just don't "get" opera and neither, I am convinced, does anyone else. Looking around, I am sure everyone was there because they thought they should be. "I get my best sleeps at the opera," I overheard one guy stage-whisper to his buddy. Me too.
We left after act two because -- thankfully -- B had a bad cold and had started to cough. Mercy, mercy. In the cab, I talked to our driver. Where are you from, I asked. Afghanistan. Oh, here we go. "Do you force your wife to cover her head and face," I said. "Yes." "Well, what the hell are you doing in Canada? In Canada we don't do that," I went on. I thought B was going to throw himself from the vehicle. "Why does your wife have to hide herself," I continued. "Modesty, the Quran," he replied. "No, it's not modesty, it's sexual," I offered. After a few rib-jabs from B, I shut up. But I am sick of people coming to Canada and bringing their un-Canadian values with them. We are all equal in this country. No one should have to cover and hide themselves. If you want to live like that, stay where you are.
But back to the opera. One thing I have to give the women in the crowd: great shoes. Having suffered the consistently hideous footwear at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa for years, I was delighted to see so many great shoes! Even women whose figures were a tad askew compensated with gorgeous, high-fashion shoes.
As I have always said, shoes make the outfit.
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One certainly does learn much more than your opinion in some posts!!
ReplyDeleteBeing uncultured, I had no idea who Amanda Forsyth is and what the Tuesday Weld reference would mean. Now knowing that her husband not only did indeed marry and divorce Tuesday Weld, but is almost twenty years Ms. Forsyth's senior, then, yes Mr. Zukerman, what DID you expect? Stick your hand outside, sir, see if it's dark.
Almost by osmosis and certainly not on the same grand scale, this weekend I did gain some culture by attending the local Symphony and Chorale Singing of Flauré's Requiem.
The most expensive shoes may have been from JCPenney and we didn't get dinner but it was enjoyable nonetheless.
Perhaps you both need to spend some time in Italy where Opera was born. There you would love it because as the saying goes
ReplyDeleteIn Paris - Parisians might tolerate you endeavouring to speak their language - however,
in Italy - they embrace you and help you speak their language. 90% of all Opera is Italian, therefore if you understand Italians you will understand Opera.
B is very knowledgeable about opera. He loves it, it's me who doesn't. He doesn't need to go to Italy to "get" opera.
DeleteScott is arriving tonight for a week's visit. Can't wait to see him.
That cab ride with you and the Afgani driver debating modesty vs. human right is worthy of an opera! Oh, the drama that could have been milked from such an encounter. I imagine your aria with you hitting a high C with every rib jab from B!
ReplyDeleteThe cab driver lost the argument. Yes, it was a operatic moment!
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