It seems I’m a love magnet to the geriatric set. Once again, I found myself the center of some
unseemly and unwanted attention at the opera house the other night. I was set for a lovely evening with Anna
Netrebko and dreamy barihunk, Mariusz Kwiecień, in the Met’s new production of Donizetti’s
L’Elisir
d’Amore, when the silver-haired “gentlemen” sitting next to me started
making the moves.
At first, I thought the tingling on my thigh was just my
excitement over Mariusz's first entrance.
But soon I realized it was the back of my neighbors hand trying to inconspicuously brush up against my
leg. At first, I thought maybe he was
just spreading out to get more comfortable.
But every time I moved my leg away, his hand somehow managed to find it’s
way past the arm rest and against my thigh.
Ew, right?
At least in the case of Nasty Nana, grandma shamelessly made
her move in broad daylight and in full view of everyone in the store. We could all later laugh and marvel at granny’s
audacity and utter lack of social decorum and at the same time give her props
for going out and grabbing (literally) what she wanted. But groping someone in a darkened theatre -
unless it’s “that” kind of a theatre, of course - is just a step too far…even
for me.
And before you ask, no, I did not give grandpa any weird
signals. In fact, he got to his seat
just as the houselights dimmed for the overture so we didn’t even make eye
contact. I think he finally got the hint,
though, after I shifted my entire body to the left side of my seat, leaving a gap
between our shared armrest and my leg large enough for an anorexic model to
fall through.
Thankfully, I was able to avoid an awkward post-grope
moment. Just as the orchestra cut-off
the final chord of the finale and before the ovation started, grandpa
skedaddled from his seat and out the door faster than you can say “sexual
harassment suit.” I’m sure he was embarrassed
enough for the both of us.
So what did I think of the opera? Well, that’s hard to say. I was somewhat preoccupied trying to ignore the
advances of my horny neighbor and mentally escaping to my "happy place." I will
say that Matthew Polenzani’s rendition of the second act aria “Una furtive lagrima”
was captivating - at least captivating enough to pull gramp’s focus away from
my leg and to the stage for at least a few minutes.
The physical production was lovely if adequate. A badly designed false proscenium blocked
most of the action upstage and cut-off much of the set from anyone not sitting
in the orchestra. I guess that’s the Met’s
way of saying “fuck you” to us cheapskates up in the nosebleeds.
I’ve always been indifferent in regards to Netrebko, but in
this production she was able to lighten up her usually dark soprano and
surprised me with some well-floated top notes and mostly clean runs (though she
splatted a couple of high notes towards the end of the second act). She also genuinely seemed to be enjoying
herself and was surprisingly funny.
As I mentioned before, Polenzani was the surprise of the
night. He’s always solid, but last night
he nearly stopped the show (and my molester’s advances) with his “Una furtiva…”
Mariusz looked great, but his voice seemed a tad small for
the house.
The chorus, as usual, sounded wonderful but was hampered by
unimaginative staging.
I’m sure the production will tape well, though, and I’m sure
it will look and sound wonderful in the HD broadcasts.
L'Elisir D'Amore
Met Opera House - Lincoln Center
Monday, Oct 1 @ 7:30pm
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