La Traviata

Diana Damrau and Juan-Diego Flórez
in La Traviata.
Photo: Marty Sohl/The Metropolitan Opera

Rebecca and I were talking about Saturday's opera, La Traviata.

I told her I had seen this latest production, but then I lost confidence when I tried to do a search on the blog and could see I didn't blog about it.

I guess if I didn't blog about it, I didn't see it.

But sometimes I do slip out of the house and just go down to the theatre on my own if there is no one around who wants to listen to Verdi for a few hours.

After reading the review in the Vulture, again, I am sure I saw the opera.  Not that I don't want to see it again.  The review is as memorable as the opera.  It mocks having a bed on the set all of the time. And it says that the chandelier looks like it is made out of Post-its and chicken wire. And it says about some of the costumes that even Elton John might consider them a bit much.  Talk about a review that makes a person want to go to the show!   I liked having the bed there in the centre.  I thought it worked, keeping in the forefront of my mind what was at stake so much of the time.

On the search through the blog, Rebecca did come up with an old post where I had seen the show with little Naomi.  Maybe in 2012.  She had cute little stars glued across the top of her forehead and I must have taken a picture of there, sitting, waiting for the opera to begin.

Some moments from the past are just too much.

Arta