Socialites & Champagne: a 21st Century Opera

There ultimately comes a day when the question “what do you want for your birthday?” is no longer met with the same thrill and explosion of the imagination as it used to hold when you were younger. Instead, it brings about a wave of panic and mental digging (the struggle of trying to remember things on demand not being a strong point for most people).

I found myself in this position several months ago, when my impending birthday began to loom ever higher over my head. After much discussion and an unexpected turn of events, I settled on a birthday present: a pair of tickets to Operanation, an annual “opera party” put on in Toronto by the Canadian Opera Company.

Now, if you’re confused just what is meant by the term “opera party”, then don’t worry - so was I the first time I came upon the article describing the event. There were enough key terms to make me realize this was an event I would like to attend: phrases like “interactive installations” and “culinary delights” in the form of a chocolate display were particularly enticing for an artist and chocoholic like myself. Beyond that I had no idea what to expect - not just because of the vague description, but also due to the fact that I had never attended the kind of social event this seemed to be.

Never one to deny my curiosity, I cheerfully told my parents this was what I wanted, if only to discover just what an opera party is. The result was a dizzying experience down the rabbit hole of 21st century social events and music, out of which I came feeling enlightened and inspired.

The evening was much like a modern fairytale, beginning with the jittery feeling of first entering into the three-story atrium of the Four Seasons Centre in the heart of downtown Toronto, all glass and light and tremors of hundreds of vocal chords warming up, their individual conductors going through the familiar process of greeting strangers, kissing cheeks, and exchanging pleasantries — who has recently come back from where, what kind of business endeavors have been going on, and what their partners have been up to. Despite the fact that there were no musicians in sight, the orchestra of mingling was very much present.

As soon as I reached the second floor, I was further introduced to what would be the second musical accompaniment of the evening: the shattering of glasses. Over the course of the evening I would become familiar with the quiet bursting sound of glass hitting the wooden floor, at several points turning to my partner and pointing out how trained my ears were becoming to picking out that tinkling shatter in that large, open space.

Despite being presented as an opera party, the evening’s musical performance didn’t start until 10:30, and lasted until about 11. During this time, Canadian electricronic band Dragonette, made famous by their unbelievably catchy song “Hello” in 2011, performed several of their songs. They later on performed with a small ensemble of opera singers, and then provided the musical accompaniment to one single female opera singer who put on an impressive show of her vocal repertoire. As my partner pointed out, the performance was easily comparable to the aria performed by Diva Plavalaguna from The Fifth Element.

Following this short yet certainly memorable performance, the rest of the night was spent under the spell of alcohol and a DJ, leaving my partner and I in the comfortable position of people watching. It was at around 1 AM that the spell began to slowly dwindle, a stream of sleepy yet nonetheless chatty individuals streaming out through the front doors, out into the long line of cab-carriages awaiting to take the drowsy royalty home.

Time is a force that has influenced all parts of our culture. Art styles have changed, while old paintings from the 17th and 18th centuries have been subject to disintegration under its flirty caress. Architecture and fashion have gone much the same way. And yet, all three of these categories are perhaps easier to pick up on due to the fact that they call upon the senses of sight and touch in combination. Music, on the other hand, is predominantly a hearing-based medium, thus making it more difficult to register the differences unless one finds oneself in a wholly immersive experience, similar to Operanation, in which melody plays the central role.

My understanding of opera had, up to that point, been based only on the literal art of it. I had watched Carmen when I was six and adored it, followed by a production of Tosca when I was ten at an opera house in my native city of Ukraine, surprising my godmother by the fact that I could appreciate both plot and skill at such an age. I was even lucky enough to watch a live performance of The Phantom of the Opera in Ottawa at about the same time.

Opera, despite not being the most frequent and dominant form of music in my life, has nonetheless held a significant role. It is an embodiment of knowledge, culture, and sophistication that I’ve set the goal for myself to uphold.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that the role of opera has changed in today’s society. It remains the emblem of sophistication, as well as a remarkable talent on the part of the singers, but it has also become less isolated in a way. True, a single ticket for the evening cost $150. But while the old-world European opera houses were elegant cake fortresses that kept the upper classes safely nestle inside as if a delicate confectionary filling, the atrium of the Four Seasons was more like a splendid snow globe, its massive windows allowing for a two-way view that, most importantly, made it possible for the curious casual pedestrian to peak in and kindle their curiosity. The subject matter has changed to include more contemporary themes, and an aria with a bouncy electronic accompaniment would probably leave great Italian composers of the past rolling around in their graves. Opera now stands on the delicate boundary of being neither fully modern nor fully traditional, still the same delicate art form that elicits awe and admiration from the audience.

It was a night I will remember for years to come, an evening when I fully came of age in more than simply being able to drink in public. It was a night when, among the chocolate and shameless flirting of glass shards with the floor, I allowed my mind to be transported through centuries and past lives, all thanks to the beauty of the music and a few glasses of lemon water-like wine.