The Opera (and Football)

When Martin asked months ago what I was doing on May 27, I had no idea. Come to find out we were going to the opera. To digress for a moment, my mom and I normally try to see at least one show a year, but with me being in Europe, we haven’t had much luck in the past two years. So whether I had made some one-off remark to Martin, or just because he knows me so well, Martin had bought tickets to see Turandot at the Zurich Opera house and I was more than excited to go. We later found out that May 27 was also the night of the Finals for Champions League Soccer (Manchester United vs. Barcelona for those who are interested). With Martin being such a great guy, there wasn’t even a thought of altering our plans - we were going to the opera…although several jokes were made of Martin needing to step out during intermission for a moment. In the end though, we were able to enjoy both.

With May 27th finally upon us, Martin and I left work early (or shall I just say “earlier than normal”) to get dressed in our finest outfits and make our way over to the opera house. We were both excited about the opera, our date night and the cultural experience of it all…so excited, we even took photos outside the opera house before going in. The experience got even better when we were led up to our balcony seats, similar to those in Pretty Woman. Unfortunately, about half way through the first act, I quickly realized that the production of the opera did not match the classiness of the affair (or my cute new dress)…while musically the opera was absolutely beautiful, the production and interpretation was horribly wrong. I have never seen, nor known an opera to work a “little person” or laptop computer into the plot or simulate a rape scene on stage (in the original version the hero forces a kiss from the main lady - this version took that kiss down to the stage floor with skirt pulled up to inappropriate levels). Every time I was close to tears due to the music, I was able to only look on stage to bring me back to reality.

Surprised by the performance, Martin and I left the opera feeling slightly confused and a little uncomfortable. But the disturbing thoughts were quickly put behind us as we headed over to Sternen Grill for sausages, beer, French fries and of course football....surprisingly we were the only ones in formal attire. While eating our sausages we watched Barcelona score their second, and final goal of the game to clinch the title and Martin and I headed home completely satisfied. Apparently one date can have it all…