Kilted (and insulted) at the opera

GG · 2nd December 07, 10:58 AM

Originally Posted by rollerboy_1979

The first and second acts were very emotional for me because La Boheme was my late wife's favorite opera, so I watched with a huge lump in my throat and tears in my eyes for much of it.RB

La Boheme, o yes. It was the very first opera I ever attended. It was back in the sixties, nearly 46 years ago by now, and when in high school.
I came with little or no expectations at all, but from the moment Rodolfo about 20 minutes after the beginning delivered his aria “Che gelida manina” followed by Mimi “Si, mi chiamano Mimi” and then at the end of act I, “O soave fanciulla” I got for life addicted to opera.
A tall, slim, fair haired teen age girl going on 17 was there too. We were not sitting together, we were not together in anyway, we were just class mates and it was a class event.
To her it was a fantastic experience, too. Two years after that performance we were engaged to each other and in 2008 we shall have been married for 42 years. In the meantime we have got wonderful children and children-in-law and lovely grand children.
During our marriage we have also attended many opera performances but La Boheme has remained our favourite opera.
My wife is still very, very beautiful; and she is and has always been my one and only. Reading your message I got a feeling that with your late wife you have had it the same way and I can easily understand your moods attending this opera, especially during act III - the ending scene, probably, with Addio, addio, senza rancor - and Mimi’s farewell in the last act.
So far this has had nothing to do with kilts, but now it comes. About eight years ago my wife should attend a business conference in Germany and I used the opportunity to accompany her. I knew that on one evening she had to go to a party and for that evening I got a seat for La Boheme at the Opera House in Cologne.
Early in the afternoon I left our hotel room in Düsseldorf dressed in my Ramsay woolen kilt, off white kilt hose with blue flashes, a semi dress sporran, kilt belt, a light blue shirt with a blue tie and a black jacket, altered by a seamstress to resemble an Argyll.
Having parked close to the Cathedral in Cologne I set off to fetch my ticket. I was not that much accustomed to kilt wearing, but after having spent some hours walking around the streets of Cologne I felt pretty secure.
The performance was not very good. Rodolfo had some voice problems, Mimi was rather ugly and the plot had been removed from 1830 to about 1930. It has, unfortunately, become trendy to make these changes where you bring the story closer to our time.
Still it was a memorable performance. My seat was in the first row, directly in front of - or behind, should you prefer that - the conductor, in the center of attention, so to say.
When he entered and turned towards the audience I recognized that he was aware of my kilt and I got a double take for a split second. That was all.
No whispering behind my back during the breaks, no negative reactions at all. After the performance I had dinner at a restaurant and then drove back to the hotel in Düsseldorf, arriving almost at the same time as my dear wife returned from the party.

Greg

**rollerboy_1979** · 2nd December 07, 03:42 PM

Originally Posted by GG

I came with little or no expectations at all, but from the moment Rodolfo about 20 minutes after the beginning delivered his aria “Che gelida manina” followed by Mimi “Si, mi chiamano Mimi” and then at the end of act I, “O soave fanciulla” I got for life addicted to opera.

Yes, opera is an addiction, much like wearing the kilt. It gets into your blood and there's nothing you can do but succumb to it.

My wife is still very, very beautiful; and she is and has always been my one and only. Reading your message I got a feeling that with your late wife you have had it the same way and I can easily understand your moods attending this opera, especially during act III - the ending scene, probably, with Addio, addio, senza rancor - and Mimi’s farewell in the last act.

My beloved was my one and only and life without her seems empty, but being kilted has proven to be a nice diversion..............something I can focus on.

Greg, treasure your sweetheart every waking moment and never stop telling her that you love her........you just never know what the future holds. I literally had my face in my hankerchief during Mimi's farewell because my wife died in my arms. Art immitates life.

Regards,
RB