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Sunday, November 1, 2009

A Night at the Opera



Painting by Edward Hopper, 1927
My Father had season Opera tickets for two. He would invite me once in a while. I wore my special Opera dress, sewn by my Mother, of dark blue crepe de chine. It had tiny pleats in the bodice and to make it even more special, she had affixed antique, hand made lace to collar and cuffs. My father wore his only suit, a black suit made for him by our local tailor.
We would arrive early. To get to the Opera House we had to take the train to the big city. My Father would explain the opera we were about to see. This time it was Gounod's Faust, a pretty heady story for an 8-year-old.
While waiting for the opera to begin, my Father wanted to know what made this occasion so special? What did I think? I mentioned the fine opera house, no, the beautiful architecture, no, the finely carved and gilded decorations, no, the plush red velvet seats, no, the orchestra tuning their instruments, no, the hushed conversation, no!
Everyone was dressed in their finery. OHHHH, yes, of course, that's it, everyone dressed in their Finery, that's what makes this occasion so special.
Gina

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