Niobe, regina di tebe, Part One
It’s always wonderful to be at the royal opera house for a wonderful assemblage of beautiful music, excellent staging and some good ear wagging during the interval. It is made thoroughly enjoyable by a fee gentle drinks and the realisation that all the worldly worries can be left outside and their contemplation can justifiably be suspended for a few hours.
The pleasure of a visit is only enhanced by the contrast of the civil, bubbly conversation one hears when entering from the windy, wet early autumn night. Anticipation is in the air.
Niobe is obscure, forgotten and previously unseen in Britain. At three and a half hours it’s also somewhat daunting in its likeness to a marathon. It is also, according to musicologists far cleverer than me, a bridge between the Venetian and the authentically baroque. I’ve been promised a classical plot, a sorceress and a pagan priest – what could go wrong?
