Friday, 16 April 2010

Today I sat on a café terrace high on a hill above Wiesbaden, overlooking the wonderful Opelbad*, the spring sunshine hot on my skin, watching in fascination as the wind rippled the surface of the water and rustled up a million living diamonds. It was an absolutely perfect moment. I felt at one with the universe, at peace with myself, blessed to live as I do, enjoying the love of family, friends and supporters. My eyes particularly appreciated the contrast between the clear, refreshing blues of the scene and the violent, messy bloodiness of last night's Salome; the performance (the dreaded second night) went well, but it's so intense that a day out in the fresh air is a wonderful antidote, a necessary metaphorical clearing of the cobwebs.

I'm glad to report that I remember more of the evening than was the case for the première! The shoes struck again, mind... they got accidentally detached during the dance, so I collected them and eventually stuck them back on my feet - I distinctly remember inspecting a nastily crumpled insole (they're a little too big) and thinking, hmm, now would SHE adjust that at this point? Try as you might, there are aspects of your character that are going to remain unexplored in rehearsal! It wasn't until a little later, when I have to do a hellishly slow walk, and unexpectedly had trouble balancing, that I realised I'd bunged the shoes on the wrong feet...

Another pitfall I narrowly avoided was doing a double-take over the dead tenor at my feet during my first entrance; when I was in make-up, I heard the occasional snatch of singing from the monitor, and thought, hmm, that's not our usual Narraboth. Enquiries ascertained that the original was ill, poor man; given my tendency to giggle at the unexpected, I'm glad I found this out before I trod on the guest. Still, I had the pleasure of shaking the latter's hand post-performance and saying, hello, we only met once you'd killed yourself.

I am hoping to get back to England next week to visit my parents - my father is convalescing and apparently being about as good a patient as doctors tend to be (my poor mother!). A heartfelt thank you to all those who asked after him! I am however watching the progress of the ash cloud from the unpronounceable Icelandic volcano with much trepidation...

* relevant picture, for once above.


  1. What would Herodias do with an errant shoe? That is easy, get a servant/slave to fix it, pronto (or bring another pair)

  2. It sounds like you handled all the shoe escapade with grace and sultriness! I would've expected nothing less! (-: Congratulations and keep up the great work! And meeting the tenor post-suicide. Wow that's a new one lol! (-; My prayers for an easy trip to England. ~Rebecca