In the evening to the Opera House for their new production of Rossini’s Turk in Italy. There seemed to be rather more young people in the audience than usual, perhaps brought in by the posters of the principals and ladies of the chorus in rather fetching bathing costumes. A really jolly production (by Simon Phillips) of a work which certainly has some beautiful and many energetic numbers, but which in a conventional performance, and performed with less brio might well be a little tedious. I suppose purists might complain that it went, from time to time, a little over the top with some very obvious groping and mild obscenity; but who cares? Emma Matthews now at the top of her form, and singing brilliantly; delightful comic performances from Samuel Dundas and Paolo Bordogna, and all in all a good evening. One of only four productions we’ve booked for this year – the others on offer being operas we’ve heard so often we could whistle them through; mind you, this is true of Evgeny Onegin, which will be our next visit – but we’re so fond of that we couldn’t resist.
Meanwhile one of the grande dames of Fine Music has been officially complaining about a number of presenters: it seems that we make clicking noises, speak too loudly or softly, play the music too softly or too loudly. As for me, alas, I breath, and am heard to do so, and this must stop. I shall take a lot more notice of this when listeners start to complain rather than ladies who listen intently through earphones in soundless rooms.