sweaty opera

Norma, the nice lady who runs the B&B I'm staying in, invited me to go see a free opera performance today, held at a local church, of a woman named Angela Brown. The performance was called "Opera from a Sistah's Point of View" and was a mix of classical opera with some more contemporary stuff - it looked interesting enough, so I tagged along.

The place was PACKED. I have never been to see a proper opera, but I imagine the audience is usually not as diverse as the one there today - this is going to sound incredibly snobbish of me, but there was a lady with a mullet wearing a denim vest. I doubt you'd see such a sight at the Met.

Also, I assume the Met is airconditioned. This church was old and decidedly lacking in modern facilities. Everyone sat there fanning themselves furiously with a pamphlet. The sullen teenage boy sitting next to me - no doubt dragged there by his mom - slumped in his seat, baseball cap pulled over his eyes. The guy in front of me kept shouting bra-VO! bra-VO! whenever he had the opportunity. Quite the atmosphere.

But I have to say, Ms. Brown was absolutely fabulous. This is a woman who's performed in front of crowds in Europe, and she stood there in a tiny church sweating with the rest of us, but taking it all in stride. (Apparently she hadn't been told there wouldn't be any a/c. I would have thrown a hissy fit in her place.) When she sang, she was a goddess - her voice filled the church with more soul than any prayer would. But inbetween songs she talked about opera and music with a wonderful and down to earth sense of humor. She wiped her sweat on a brown towel and sang with a voice that held the audience spellbound. It's an incongruous experience, listening to the divine whilst sweating buckets of very earthy sweat, but I enjoyed every minute of it.