Dazzled

Monday mornings are usually not the most cheerful times of the week for any person, but for me, this past Monday was near dreadful. I’ll not go into details; I’ll only say that it involved roses, harsh words, and disciplinary actions. It was a miracle that I got any work done at all that day.
Luckily, I had something to look forward to that kept me somewhat functional through work. As soon as I got off, I ran home to change and grab my opera glasses, and then drove to Chicago for the Lyric Opera’s Season Preview reception and concert. I arrived forty minutes early, and so had to stand outside in the wind until the doors were unlocked. Luckily, Chicago is one of the best people-watching cities in the US, and so there was much to divert my attention as I waited.
As soon as the doors opened, I made my way to the reception hall, which was lined with tables holding trays of tea sandwiches, cookies, and wine. I took a chicken salad sandwich and small glass of Chardonnay, and spent a couple of awkward minutes trying to eat quickly, all the while standing, holding my purse, and watching a flood of people enter the hall. Every moment counted, since the event had open seating, and I wanted to get the best seat possible. I finished my wine and made a dash for the main floor of the auditorium. Imagine my happiness when, after just a few moments of searching, I found a seat on the eighth row!
The next two hours were nothing short of divine. There was no orchestra, just a piano on stage, and the arias were sung by incredibly talented members of the Lyric’s Opera academy. All of the performers were rather young (mid-twenties) and just stunning. Elizabeth De Shong, a petite mezzo-soprano, sang the part of Caesar (which Handel originally wrote to be performed by a castrato) with smoky intensity, and then amazed the crowd by giving a bright, sparkling performance as the mischievous Rosalina from Rossini’s Barber of Seville.
Phillip Dothard, a brassy baritone, played the part of Figaro with all the exaggerated confidence that the character demands. The rapid notes were all hit with impressive strength and sound, and I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked on stage. My heart wasn’t truly stolen, though, until the last solo aria, when Jordan Shanahan gave a smooth, clarion performance of “Kogda bi zhizn domashnim krugom”. That man simply was Eugene Onegin – the character of the Russian playboy finding breathing substance between the kindness of the words and the jaded, patronizing tone. I couldn’t blame poor naïve Tatyana for falling for him, since I was actively falling in love with him myself.
I was dazzled by the end of the evening, filled to the brim with opera-induced euphoria. I can’t wait for the season to begin.