An unexpected night at the opera

An unexpected invitation

Earlier this year my friend B asked if I’d like to see “The Handmaid’s Tale” at the English National Opera (ENO) with her. B runs a brilliant website called “Opera For All” and is passionate about spreading the love of and for opera, demystifying it and opening a door which for many of us may seem firmly closed. In fact, B wrote a piece for A middle-aged Londoner on exactly that, “Get into opera.” Anyway, B had a couple of press tickets and thought I might like to join her. I wouldn’t say I’m the biggest of opera buffs and, I’m less keen on opera in English, but I was intrigued by the idea of an opera of “The Handmaid’s Tale” and I’m very actively trying to get out and do things and to connect with the variety of culture that London has to offer. Plus, as I’ve got older… I have found my tastes widening to genres of music I used to think (when I was a girl) were for old people (pah ha), like opera and jazz.

There were a couple of reasons I shouldn’t have liked this opera, it being in English for one (as I said) as I often find it a bit off-putting when you realise that what is being sung about is the moving of a chair from one side of the room to the other or… something similar, and that it’s contemporary (in the main) music, for two. But I’ve got to say, it hooked me – I couldn’t say that I liked it, exactly, no, in fact, I felt a little shell-shocked by the end. But, I was glad I understood the lyrics, it made it much more powerful – it felt very current, and It made me think. It made me appreciate this life I’ve been lucky enough to be born into. It challenged me. And it made me want to read the book (which is STILL on my list), and maybe even watch the TV show. The music was stunningly beautiful at points, and at others completely discordant with vocals (Aunt Lydia) that perfectly conveyed a maniacal quality completely fitting with her role and place in the patriarchal dystopian society of Gilead*.

Childhood memories.

When I was younger, in my teens and early twenties, my mother used to be a member of the ENO and I would often go with her (sometimes reluctantly) to see productions. I remember being blown away by a production of Madam Butterfly there. It felt strange to be back there without her and I felt awash with nostalgia for time spent at The Coliseum (the home of ENO) and The Royal Opera House with my mum, sister, and our kids. How unbelievably fortunate we were.

Spreading the magic

I know that opera houses are trying to do more to widen their reach and to break down the elitest viewpoint many of us have of opera**, the feeling that it’s not for us, that we won’t understand, that we can’t afford it, that we won’t fit in. But I was struck, as I looked around the press reception room during the interval, at just how (on the surface at least – I know you can’t, and really mustn’t, judge a book by its cover) un-diverse this group of people were. I don’t know the answer but if your message communicators all fit within a given mould then the audience you’re going to attract is likely to be within that mould too, non? That was just a snapshot though and I’m sure there are a myriad of initiatives aimed at engaging diverse audiences with opera. And so there should be, because everything about it is enriching, from the sumptuousness and beauty of the opera houses themselves (who can fail to feel special surrounded by all that deep red velvet and gilt everywhere) to the power and magic of the music and singing (even if you’re not moved to tears like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, I defy anyone to not feel a small stirring, at least). It’s undeniably special and an experience that more people should be having.

ENO The Handmaid's Tale, 22, Camile Cottin © Catherine Ashmore

Somewhat unusually, the opera “The Handmaid’s Tale” a story of the oppression and abuse of females told from the female perspective, was not written by a female (though the libretto, the words, is faithful to the book which was written by a female). The libretto is by Paul Bently and the music by Poul Rudders. This was the first opera to be directed by Annilese Miskimmon since beginning appointed as Artistic Director to ENO and, according to the production notes, she is known for her commitment to modern works so, as an audience, we were in good hands! Added to that, the ‘narrator’ of the tale was the incomparibly gorgeous and painfully cool (if you’ve watched Dix Pour Cent you’ll know what I mean) Camille Cottin!

I’m glad to have been pushed outside of my comfort zone, both in terms of subject matter and musically but I’d still choose a good Carmen or La Traviata over a modern piece.

*The Republic of Gilead is a bible-based dictatorship established by right wing fundamentalists in the early 21st century in America. Felt a bit close to the bone to me with the systematic dismantling of and attack of abortion rights in the US where, in some states, the rights of an unborn foetus or say… a rapist ‘father,’ outweigh the those of the ‘mother.’

I loved that EVERYBODY (or so it felt) in the production took a bow - felt very egalitarian.

** ENO actually has a lovely bit on its website about “going to your first opera” with things like what to wear and whether there is an etiquette etc and, their tickets start at £10 plus, I’m pretty sure they run loads of workshops across the year (well, they certainly used to because I’ve taken my kids to them) and do various bits of outreach.

A cheeky little nightcap

After the opera we popped into Common Decency which is just round the corner and the newest offering (not that new anymore really) of NoMad Hotel – an underground intimate spot for late night drinking and yes, a bit of dancing (in my case).