New globe for the Metropoitan Opera
Oct/18/2010 22:57
I remember the first time I attended an opera at the Met. It was in 2007. Lucia di Lammermoor was opening the season that year, and they had their annual open dress rehearsal, as they do every year. (Hence “annual”.) And despite the crowds of the very obvious demographic that the dress rehearsal was catering to (*cough* Senior citizens! Think “early bird special”), it was, as the inimitable Billy Crystal so aptly put it, “mahvelous”.
It was, in fact, much more than that. The entire experience was magical, from the moment I placed my foot over red, plush-carpeted threshold of the edifice ("building" somehow doesn't suffice), until the very end when Natalie Dessay rolled down the treacherous flight of stairs, laughing maniacally, deep in the throes of her madness. And everything in between – the Chagall murals; the spiraling staircase and their deeply colored, polished brass balustrades. The delicate, powerful chandeliers modeled, seemingly, after snowflakes. Everything.
Magical indeed. And unforgettable. Why would I buy a Met snow globe? Probably for the same reason that patriotic tourists from Kentucky buy those commemorative silver spoons at the Statue of Liberty.
When I turn the lights on in the snow globe, the Chagall murals glow with a gentle luminescence, and the fountains sparkle under the blanket of silver glitter that is falling from the “sky”? Every time I look at the snow globe, Natalie Dessay, the starburst that is the Met chandelier and that subtle feeling of hushed luxury warm me up all over again. I’ve heard it called “the warm fuzzies”. I prefer to call it happiness.
Magical indeed. And unforgettable. Why would I buy a Met snow globe? Probably for the same reason that patriotic tourists from Kentucky buy those commemorative silver spoons at the Statue of Liberty.
When I turn the lights on in the snow globe, the Chagall murals glow with a gentle luminescence, and the fountains sparkle under the blanket of silver glitter that is falling from the “sky”? Every time I look at the snow globe, Natalie Dessay, the starburst that is the Met chandelier and that subtle feeling of hushed luxury warm me up all over again. I’ve heard it called “the warm fuzzies”. I prefer to call it happiness.