Last week I got an email asking if I wanted tickets to go see Bizet's Carmen. Well, sure. I actually like opera and classical music and getting dressed up and going places.
Granted, this wasn't New York or DC or even LA. It was a Midwestern performance of an opera which, for some reason, I thought was Italian. It's not. It's French. Strike one for my aura of smartitude.
Anyway, the tickets were cheap.
So yeah, sure, the husband and I decided to go.
We get to Will Call and find that the tickets are so fucking cheap because the seats are in the LAST POSSIBLE ROW of the balcony. I knew they'd be in the balcony, but last row? COME ON.
Did I mention to you that I get vertigo? And not the Jimmy Stewart kind [which, seriously @modinkpeeb ? Jimmy Stewart is in no way sexier than Cary Grant. NO WAY.]. The swoopy kind of vertigo. It's not fun.
So we climb and climb and climb stairs and finally get to the BACK of the place and sit down and I'm deep breathing [o.k., almost panting, whatever, I'm starting my water aerobics this week, let's relax, o.k.?] and trying not to look down except you know what? DOWN IS WHERE THE SHOW IS.
So I spent the show with my head turned sideways and looking out of the bottom corners of my eyes. I highly recommend this viewing method next time you are at the opera.
ALSO - why the fuckity-roo do operas have to have those supertitles? I first saw them about 15 years ago when we went to see a Wagner opera [of course I don't remember which one. It was in German and had a boat. Das Boot, maybe?] I mean, I've got the libretto so I know what's going on, and I may not be fluent in the language, but I don't need to see exactly what words the people are singing, I can get that from the whole ambiance of the play, and also? The person in charge of the supertitles at Carmen? Was high or drunk, because they never matched up with what was going on.
So I kind of felt all superior and thought, "Screw these infidels, I'm not looking at the supertitles anymore because I am SO ABOVE ALL THAT [And not just because I needed a sherpa to get to my seat. And also not just because it made me dizzy to look at them.]."
Until I recognized Carmen's first big number, Habanera, in Act I. Because I recognized Carmen's song from Sesame Street.
I get props for it being Denyse Graves singing on Sesame Street, right? [If you have never seen this, please do. It's amazing.]
Then in Act II, I recognized the Toreador song from Gilligan's Island. I was pretty mortified and leaned over to mention this to my husband, who said, "That's o.k., I recognize the songs from Bugs Bunny." Yeah. We're together.
At the end of Act II, I asked the husband if we could leave, because it had already been well over 2 hours of sitting with my head twisted & there were two more acts, which meant at least 2 more hours and frankly? I was more than willing to just get a DVD and watch the last two acts. Don't get me wrong, I really love the music and I am a HUGE fan of live theater, but I realized that I am a huge fan of live theater on the main floor only.
So we left, after I carefully made my way down down down down down the stairs.
I highly recommend classing up your day with opera to see how much of a rube you are. I bet I win.