Wednesday, 6 January 2010

As an opera singer, you pretty much learn to deal with whatever happens around you on stage, pretending that all is calm and clear in, say, your tender love duet, whilst carpenters hammer their thumbs and swear under their breath, the set wobbles when you lean on it and the tenor is treading rather heavily on your toes. Part of the business.

However, for the record, I would like to say (despite this situation being rather unlikely to to happen often, especially in this particular opera) that it is nigh on impossible to maintain a solemn and dignified mien when your first sight, upon turning to face the audience, is a well-muscled young man wearing stilettos and a red leather miniskirt slowly descending a ladder, and when your immediate thought upon seeing him is, goodness, I don't believe he's wearing any knickers...

You have been warned! Should this ever happen to you, you now have no excuse for any, erm, cracks in your composure...


  1. Now you usually include such a lovely photo with each of your blog entries. What? No photo of this distraction?

  2. SweetJeebus!!! Did his mother not teach him to "tuck"? Men in skirts without underwear? Are you sure you are not in Scotland?

  3. Well,.....

    Even though I'm over here on the Left Coast of the Untied States and haven't done any "real" Regietheatre,.... I've had a few shows (they'd probably be considered the operatic equivalent of 'Off-Off-Off-OFF-WAYYYY-Off-Broadway') where such things were pretty commonplace.

    Still, that doesn't, erm,... cover up for distractions, etc.

    Otherwise, trust all is well vocally and with La Bodilyoo of You.