Last night at 11.30 when I should have been in bed, this morning at 1.30 when I was being hyper-sensitive to normal street noise and 6.30 when my alarm went off, I really questioned my wisdom in doing this.
To be honest I still have to say it was a mad thing to do but I'm glad I did. I didn't actually have any panic attacks except for a very small one leaving the house - somewhat later than I felt I ought to have done but thanks to deserted roads my bus got to St Pancras in record quick time.
The journey was uneventful all the way to the Chatelet.
Unfortunately we (my friend and I) just missed Plácido arriving at the theatre. We arrived at the Stage Door just as he was disappearing inside.
The performance was really excellent - I shall write a considered report on the two performances attended. Plácido was in fine voice throughout - oh you know how he is, takes time to warm up, then suddenly this sound hits you and it's wow! He is extraordinary in his portrayal of Cyrano, very moving.
This isn't meant to be a review so I will move onto the curtain calls which were like a show in themselves. Standard procedure, actors and chorus followed by comprimarii and ascending up through the stars. Despite the curtain coming down and the house-lights coming on, much of the audience stayed clapping, foot-stamping etc.
People generally left their seats and moved to the front. So more curtain calls, cast bows and so on. Because it was the last performance of the run, there were various members of the creative team also. At one point the other principles etc were applauding Plácido and he was applauding them. I suppose that's his way of saying it's a team effort which is fair enough, but I don't think anyone would have thought him arrogant to have stood there and bathed in applause.
At one stage during the curtain calls he brought his young grandson on his arms. I could see Alvaro in the wings taking photos of the audience!
I also noticed that he kissed his hand and touched the stage, which I have read that is something he does nowadays on the last night in the hope that he will return.
The curtain came down and then the safety curtain. I assumed that that was that but I wasn't leaving the auditorium until most other people did. I had filled up my memory card and was hastily deleting some old pictures to create space whilst other people clapped and chanted Plácido's name. (Bonjour to the lady who said hello - did I catch your name right as Genevieve? It was so noisy!).
Finally a door opened in the safety curtain and the cast reappeared for a final time, to great cheers and waves of lurve from the large proportion of the audience that remained.
My camera recorded over 20 minutes and almost 60 photos of curtain calls (because I haven't got enough photos already to edit...!).
We went to the stage door afterwards and waited as long as we could, but not long enough. There were loads of people there waiting, but we calculated that to get the 2113 train (the last train to London) we needed to leave the Chatelet at 2015. Meeting Plácido before or after a performance is only the sugar strands on the icing on the cake, and believe me, there was plenty of cake and icing inside the theatre.
Cyrano de Bergerac will never be my favourite opera, but the final act is magical, and the third act is above average. And I love the way that Plácido gets inside the character and makes him so sympathetic. I had been a bit ambivalent about this run in Paris, because of my ambivalence about the work. I didn't go to Milan or Valencia to see him it, but the draw of Paris was too much. And I am so glad that I did!
(most of this was composed on my phone, hence the somewhat stilted nature of the writing)
