Sei and I attended Don Giovanni at the San Francisco Opera. I was caught up in every minute of it. Actually, that's not perfectly true. I'm not wild about Don Ottavio's arias; I think both they and the character are the weakest part in the opera. Also, I just don't like tenors as well as baritones. That's the only time my attention wavered, though.

I really enjoyed most of the voices. Monica Colonna performed Donna Anna. I loved her voice, finding it very clear and pure, and her interpretation engaging. Carol Vaness as Donna Elvira was just this side of hysterical in my opinion (which was mostly due to the role of a seduced and abandoned older lady, I hope), but Anna Netrebko as Zerlina was the essence of a soubrette, and Alfonso Antoniozzi's Leporello was a handsome, charming rogue of a servant. I wasn't big on Dmitri Hvorostovsky's Don Giovanni. He looked like he was having a bad day, not entirely all there both in voice and in acting. Perhaps I'm overly critical, and a more operatically educated person wouldn't agree. I'd like to see the opera again to compare performances. Heck, I'd just like to see it again, but there aren't any tickets left.

For me, opera has been an acquired taste. I was hauled off to see La Boheme at the Seattle Opera when I was in junior high, and my critical 13 year old self was seriously unimpressed by how long it took Mimi to die. Since then I have been to lots of the things, everything from Purcell to Wagner to Verdi to Britten to Menotti. I'm fond of it all, though not fond enough to ever desire season tickets. Of all the operas I've seen, Don Giovanni never fails to entrance me with its lovely music, busy plot, and excellent combination of comedy and drama. The best part is always seeing how the descent to hell is staged.

Sei and I looked fabulous, and you can read about it here if you would like to see our photo and hear about the non-singing bits of attending the opera. It's such fun to see what other people think is appropriate for a matinee performance. I only spotted one person wearing ratty jeans and an old t-shirt. Myself, I wore slinky black jersey and grey snakeskin mules that were so stylish I caught women looking at them surreptitiously in envy.

I suffered for fashion, though. A blister formed and popped in the space of walking from the opera house to Max's Opera Cafe, and I thought I was going to shriek ignominiously right there on the sidewalk among the beautiful people. Dear, thoughtful Sei immediately offered to trade shoes for the rest of the walk as she had comfortable slides on and wasn't going to be wearing the snakeskin beauties for long enough to get a blister herself. I gratefully accepted, and we had a good time at the cafe sans foot pain. It is a very fine thing to discover a friend with the same shoe size. I think Sei and I will be eyeing each other's shoe collection very carefully from now on!

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