Un beau spectacle

Yesterday was unbearably ordinary. I had class in the Louvre again (booor-ing), and then went to an opera at l'Opéra Bastille. the seats were unfortunate; very front row, dead center. Perrine's friend had an extra ticket, so we were sort of obligated to use it. 150 euros only, for that. For anyone reading this who might happen to be my professor, I was being sarcastic about the Louvre. But only about that. The rest was terrible. And Maude didn't talk to me.

It was actually really incredible. And I usually don't even care for opera all that much. A piece by Verdi called "Luisa Miller." The stage design was amazing, the lighting, the costumes, all fantastic. I wish I had a picture of one of the sets in particular. It had these tall "stone" columns and the light shone onto them casting long, streaky shadows across the grassy hills. And though I can't compare it to any English rendition I've seen, it seemed so much more poignant to read in French. Maybe that's because operas are usually written with such simple, straightforward language, that it was easy enough for me to understand while also retaining an air of complexity if perhaps only due to my limited comprehension. There was one actually very moving scene; i'm surprised to have thought so and even more surprised to admit it. A heart of stone, have I. But in it, Rodolfo learns that his lover has betrayed him, and begins singing, accompanied only by a very soft orchestra, about seeing her eyes in the stars and hearing her voice whisper to him. Beautiful. (Watch it here, the second video)




Après, Perrine and I went to Café Rotonde and ate plentifully. Thanks to the bottle of Perrier I spilt on my plate I didn't overstuff myself too greatly. This café, as Perrine and the menu explained, was once frequented by many famous artists including Picasso, Satie, Rodin (I think), Prévert, Ionesco, Man Ray, and too many others to remember. Not too shabby, Rotonde.


One final note (Dad, Charlie, Kieren): Yoko is in my french class and I am psyched.