I choose a seat at the back of the theatre, right next to the disabled spot which another woman had already claimed as well as the next two seat in a row. That was fine with me. I just sat on the next seat in and then walked the halls until it was time for the show to start. Even though the seats had been claimed, no one sat in them. I did remark to the man on the other side of me that it was a pleasure to be there. He said, yes, better than being at the Met. The price here is just right. And the close-ups I thought.
Half way through the first act, in came the lady to the left of me with her friends. At the half they wanted to talk about the show. “Too bad that you missed the first part of it,” I said. “Oh, we got busy talking out in the hall and just forgot to come in.” I hope I never get that old.
The principal singers were Pretty Yende, Matthew Polenzani, Davide Luciano and Ildebrando D’ Arcangelo. I had to practise the name of the fourth person, the Dulcamara a number of times. Perhaps we will hear him sing again. Everyone got interviewed at the half, even the conductor, Domingo Hindoyan, who as at the podium for the first time.
Last night, I went out to listen to Nemorino’s famous aria in the second act a couple of times. Once by Pacido Domingo. Oh, the internet is a wonderful place for finding other examples of famous songs.
Bouquets of flowers were thrown on the stage at the curtain call. A shower of glitter rained down from the ceiling. The crowd was on their feet clapping. I was glad I braved the slick sidewalks and the icy intersections, which were the worst ever.
But who wouldn’t. As the man on the back row said, “A fantastic experience for the right price: $27.00.