Last night, I had the privilege to attend The Altlanta Opera's 1962 Vienna version of Orfeo & Euridice. These occasions are remarkable to witness. The extravagant sets and well-practiced talent of the performers makes the journey worthwhile. However, there's more to it than the opera itself. In my opinion, half the fun is the audience.
People of all ages attend operas, but from my observance, I'd say older adults make up a higher percentage. Operas are no local talent show. Wealthy businessmen, elegant women and other guests all dress to impress. Opening nights practically require tuxedos for men, and women are allowed to be creative; anything from prim cocktail dresses to floor-length prom-like ensembles.
The Atlanta Opera performs in the Cobb Energy Centre. The beautiful building always awes me, and although it's a bit touristy, I try to snap an occasional photograph, like the one here.
Sure, to any newcomer from a small town, the atmosphere may appear stuffy, yet I've learned to absorb the uniqueness. The best word to sum it up? CLASSY, folks, downright classy.
In a weird way, it's like attending a mega-church on steroids, but with champagne and valet parking. My boyfriend and I are tightwads, so we usually dismiss the eager valet men with a polite nod, and coast over to the parking garage. From there, we follow scores of handsome couples and diamond-adorned grandmothers through the glass doors, where we are warmly greeted by.... well, who are they, anyway? Opera workers. Volunteers. Greeters.....whoever.
The bad thing about operas? They're rarely sung in English. This barrier is assisted by an electronic screen located at the pinnacle of the stage. Operas are written Italian, but one barely notices what they're saying; it's all about melodious notes and orchestral accompaniment.
Would I go again? Sure, I go when I'm invited. But, I much prefer a play with straight dialog. Still, if you ever get a chance to attend an opera, you'd be wise to go.
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