When I went to the first performance a week ago Friday I was - eventually - very excited. I had been so looking forward to it for well over a year, then the events of the previous day rather affected my perspective etc.
But by the time I reached the ROH I had a palpable sense of excitement, and with anxiety about whether my expectations would be met. I've already talked about the music, the performances etc.
Start of Act 1, and Plácido came on stage, I was thrilled, and I could sense a thrill around the Amphitheatre, the almost choreographed raising of binoculars. And I thoroughly enjoyed him, but there was a little part of me that wondered why I wasn't more tremblingly excited and hysterical.
Start of Act 2 and I'm suddenly startled - gosh, it's Bryn Terfel! I had been so excited about seeing Plácido, I hadn't really considered that I would be seeing another Big Star, who, normally, would be the Big Star I would pinpoint as being the star attraction.
Start of Act 3 and I suddenly realise it's that music, and I'm startled. I know there's a clue, the opera is called Di Walküre, so it shouldn't be a surprise to hear Ride of the Valkyries. Intellectually, it wasn't a surprise - I have seen the opera live before, on TV and DVD, and countless times over the years on radio and record. But it was an unexpected thrill, nevertheless.
And my reactions this past Friday were almost identical.
In between times I met Plácido, who is just totally lovely, and I was so pleased to meet him, so excited. I mean, I could go on; I just want to savour my memories.
Last night, I got unbelievably excited. I do so love the Royal Opera House, but there is something very special about the Albert Hall, in particular the Proms. There's a lot peripheral I hate about the Albert Hall - there's a grottiness about the milling areas, not enough milling room, I hate the walk down Exhibition Road when far too many people leaving the museums fail to grasp the concept of not spreading out across the entire pavement. I could go on, and probably will between now and 10 September.
But walk into the auditorium and what a wow! feeling. I had a seat in the Stalls, on the 7th row, behind the arena, if the conductor's podium is 12 o'clock, I was at 5 o'clock. Good view. Not the best view I've had in the Albert Hall, but good. It was fabulous watching the place fill up. And I mean fill up. Not just the fact that every seat was full, and all Promming places, but there was a buzz, an excitement. I flicked through the programme and began to tremble with sheer utter excitement. I wanted to turn to my neighbours and tell them how excited I was, I wanted to hug random strangers.
The orchestra walked on to warm applause. Then, more applause. "Here comes Tony" I thought. Then the applause started going a bit mad, and into my view came Tony Pappano, Waltraud Meier, and Plácido Domingo. So I was applauding madly, too, and never taking my eyes off Plácido, who looked actually really quite taken aback. He's sung just about everywhere, and all sorts of venues - opera houses of various sizes, concert halls, arenas, stadiums, historic sites, and more, in a long and very successful career. But when he was interviewed in the interval (what? You surprised I watched it as soon as I got home?) he said he was really really nervous - he looked it!
Start of Act 2, and I had that feeling again - oh my god, it's Bryn Terfel! Not just because I had confidently predicted that he would cancel - there are rumours he can't hack the pressure of live telly - but because he's a superstar.
Halfway through Act 2, after that wonderful exchange between Wotan and Brunnhilde, and Wotan's monologue, we see the return of Siegmund and Sieglinde.
And suddenly, I had a completely totally girly adolescent attack of trembling hysteria. Oh. my. god!!!!! That is Plácido Domingo, my hero, on stage, and I am sat here listening to him sing, and watching him. I was nearly beside myself with trembling awe-inspired hero-worship!
My crazy fortnight and a bit is over, and nothing good is ever going to happen again - well, I'm off to see Plácido in Berlin in less than three weeks.
And there's the rest of the Proms, and some other eagerly anticipated events, too.
But my crazy 17 days in July are over, never to be forgotten. Although Live 8 seems a long time ago...
