…last night’s journey to the Royal Opera House to see the UK premiere performance of Korngold’s Die Tote Stadt (The Dead City). Now, when it comes to opera I do believe that you have to let go of any hopes of a reasonable story line or lyrics and realize you are there for the music and the spectacle.  Korngold’s 1920’s inter-war opera has some beautifully lyrical passages, all of which were sung last night by incredible voices.  But I tell you, this was one book I just couldn’t ignore for it’s over-the-top sickness.  A man from Bruges has lost his young and beautiful wife. His mourning has driven him mad until he sees a youing dancer in the street whom he grows to believe is the reincarnation of his lost Marie. He invites her to his home.  She arrives.  He becomes tortured by his desire for her, falls into a nightmarish state and then wakes to believe, basically, life must go on.  The notes talk about the surge of works during the post WWI-period with the theme of wanting to bring the dead back to life.  Ok, I get it.  But really, as my husband said, “the guy needs to get back into circulation.”  So why did we go?  Because No. 1 Son was on stage as an extra, playing a top-hatted dancer, riding on a float as a soldier of Christ, and even…yes it’s true…dressed as a nun.  I couldn’t have been prouder! (Plus he gets paid for it). My son the nun.  What will he come up with next? (Actually I know what he’ll be in next, but I’ll let the suspense build on that for a moment). Here for those of you who like this sort of thing, is an excerpt, but alas, without my son (actually, all teasing aside, it is beautiful music):

“But you have two talented sons,” I can hear you exclaim.  “What’s the younger one making you do?”  Well, next week I fly to Singapore to watch him play his cello in an International Honours Orchestra Festival. How lucky am I?  So I won’t be around to blog very much next week, but I’ll tell you about it when I get back. Oh yes, the things we do for love (not to mention art)….

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