Teatro Colon

Could you imagine a group of Canadian elementary schoolchildren being taken to an opera house as a school trip? So important is the Teatro Colón in the history and cultural life of Buenos Aires that every time I go past there are at least a couple busses full of students or tour groups waiting to go in for a tour.

Mussorsgky's opera Boris Godunov opened last week, and so I thought it a good excuse to check out this landmark, not only because it's the last opera of the season, but that at the end of the season the Colón closes one year for repairs.

Waiting in the huge line to get a ticket didn't bother me - seeing so many people interested in classical music was a nice change from all those concerts I've been too where the audience consisted of 5 old ladies knitting in the back. But the guy at the box office told me the only tickets left for this Sunday's matinée were crap seats where I wouldn't see anything. So I decided to go for an entrada a pie, a $4 ticket in the standing section at the back of each of the three upper balconies.

Sunday afternoon I scrounged together something resembling "nice" from my collection of backpacker clothes and made my way to the theatre. As I climbed the stairs and entered the Cazuela level, I realized how much of a standing section novice I was. The best standing spots, at the centre back, had been claimed by people who had obviously arrived WAY earlier than I did, and who were fully equipped with little chairs and stools. I duly took my place at the end of the row, on the side.

As the show started, I fidgeted around, trying to see around unfortunately placed posts and peoples heads, and trying to take in both the stage and the Spanish supertitles of the Russian text at the same time. A decorative moulding hanging from the ceiling which must look quite lovely, but which partially blocked my view, meant that I had assume a stooped over position. ( Of course, this wasn't an issue for all the other petite Argentine ladies in the section. This must have been punishment for my tall frame blocking the view of everyone behind me at some outdoor concert or something...) In between acts, when one of the patrons who had paid for a seat but they'd had enough Russian and didn't make it back after the break, there was a mad dash for the empty chair.

It sounds uncomfortable, but it wasn't actually that bad. In the intermissions, I'd sneak down and take a rest in someone's plush seat, taking in the gorgeous, decadent interior of the theatre at the same time. And the production was pretty good and enjoyable, despite the soloists' distracting habit of coming out for a bow during scene changes, breaking character and the mood of the story.

And at the Colón, do not, I repeat do not, whisper to your neighbour, open a candy, let your cell phone ring, or start to clap at the end of an aria before the conductor has released the last note, or you will be greeted by the loudest "ssssshhhhhhhhhh" you've ever heard. From three levels up I heard someone down on the lower level start to clap at the wrong time and in unison a perfectly coordinated chorus of "shhhhhhhhh" from all levels reverberated throughout the hall. Dirty looks just don't cut it in Buenos Aires.

And when the opera ended, I thought I was at a football game, the way everyone started to freak out. With the typical Argentine lust for life, the audience erupted into applause, cheers, whistles, screams, and shouts of 'bravo', for like 20 minutes. But seriously, they were FREAKING OUT. A far cry from the restrained applause following a Canadian opera, but sort of cool, you know?