We gathered on Floral Street, in the rain, to queue and to wait. Plácido had said that he would be by the Stage Door at the second interval; him having said that guaranteed that many other people also would be, a lot more than last week, actually, probably word had spread. not only was it wet, it was also cold, but even though I had my umbrella (in contrast to a previous occasion), my coat was in the ROH cloakroom - I had not envisaged waiting outside for so long. Still, that gave us plenty of time to discuss what we wre going to say. I decided that I was going to say nothing, simply go down on my knees and worship ("Again?" someone asked...). Intelligent questions would be such as "When are we next going to see you in London..." - incidentally, last week, Mo asked him about the Albert Hall concert. Nothing has been fixed yet, no indication of dates, but it's likely to be a zarzuela evening. Less intelligent questions could be 'When are you next going to perform with wonderful Katherine Jenkins?'. We contemplated what an obsessive-fanatical total fan would do at this point - I know what you're thinking, but honest, I do retain a sense of perspective. Besides, there comes a point where obsessive-fanatical-total fandom becomes very disrespectful. However, if I were that sort of person, I would not have been standing out in the rain. I would have run out of the opera house at the second the conductor's baton fell, heaving with me my large collection of CDs, DVDs, pictures, magazine articles etc to be signed. I would present to him a love poem I had written especially - or perhaps a narrative of a fantasy scenario - and a list of my future engagements when I shall be next slavishly following him. I'm telling you, we were waiting a long time.
I felt rather proud of my bullying skills, as I took the rearguard behind Anne Marie, Mandy and Raffe, all of whom I had bullied into accompanying me in star-stalking. We had to wait quite a long time just inside the door-to-the-street. The man on the door said that it was 'no flash photography', so Raffe took a couple from side on, and I was going to, but then someone else came to clarify that it was 'no photographs', so I didn't. Instead I just gazed on His Gorgeousness, who was looking especially gorgeous. He was still in costume, his hair and beard dyed, and he wasn't wearing his glasses. I had one of those delicious moments when, despite the fact that I do rather fancy him and I know that I fancy him, and I'm very familiar with his appearance, I experienced a frisson of surprise at how attractive I find him.
Slowly we wended our way towards the front of the queue, anxiously looking at our watches as the time for the curtain for the mythical Act III drew closer (don't fret, I did go to Act III, and will write it up in due course). The order was Mandy, Anne Marie, two elderly ladies we had let in before us, Raffe and me, and I think there were at least a couple of people behind me - the remainder of the queue was the other side of the glass door.
Anne Marie approached him and said she had seen him in Washington after Die Walkure, but she had felt too intimidated to approach him. "Why?" he asked. I didn't catch what Anne Marie said, but here's her report from that evening . He asked her where she was from; he asked her where she lives. She then produced a score for him to sign, he asked her her name and signed her score to Anne Marie. He then asked her whether she was a musician. She explained that she is a violinist, and waggled her violin case around, so he said - remember his delicious Spanish accent and his gentle way of speaking,
"Let us make music together..."
which caused certain of us to laugh and say "Ooh...!", to which he said sternly,
"I said music," (at which point I felt suitably told off - or not...!). We just laughed again. Of course, if I had had my wits about me, I would have said,
"Well, Plácido, you've been killed off and don't appear in Act III, and Anne Marie doesn't actually have a ticket for the performance, so you've both got time" but I didn't have my wits about me, so I didn't say that...missed opportunity or what...! Naturally, afterwards, I did try teasing Anne Marie, saying 'get in there, girl!' but as she quite rightly pointed out, he is passionate about promoting young musicians.
Of course, after that, any intelligent questions that might have been in my mind completely disappeared; instead I said what I have been wanting to say to him for a long time, which was to thank him for introducing me to opera. and he took my hand, which was really nice, and I was happy. And I got back to my seat in time for Act III!
People often say you shouldn't meet your heroes; by this they mean that if you idolise someone and then you meet them, it can be disappointing to find out that they are not as you believe them to be, that you can get a nasty shock if they turn out not to be likeable.
Fortunately for me, I hero worship someone very special, someone who, it is almost universally acknowledged is a very special person. and is unfailingly courteous to fans. For example, appearing at the Stage Door like this, after a long and arduous performance - he is under no obligation to, and it must be quite tiring to then spend an hour signing autographs and welcoming so many people. It's wonderful that he does, and I for one am extremely grateful as to how approachable he is. And it's wonderful to get the opportunity to tell him - however inadequately - how much he means to me.
And yet, paradoxically, the fact that he is so approachable and so down-to-earth, a good laugh, who comes over in such situations as relaxed and laid back, nice and friendly, actually just confuses me, because he's a complete legend in the music world, 58th Greatest Living Genius, and he is a consummate performer. Even on days like today when he didn't sing as well as I have heard him sing previously, he was still marvellous: the singing, the dramatic portrayal, the stage presence, the charisma were truly something special. He's earned the right to act like a divo, but he absolutely doesn't, which just makes me admire him even more. And yet I am confused between placing the musician on a pedestal and being fairly informal with the person. I don't know how much longer he will be singing for, probably not more than about five years (but who knows...) and I just feel even more determined to hear him as often as I can.
