the seagull

Of course we don't go to something as vulgar as the Santa Claus parade. We watched it from the opera, during intermission. A sad affair in drooling rain, even a WalMart float. Brrr. Whole families in sleeping bags, waiting for the parade since God only knows what hour this morning. Who wouldn't prefer the opera. Or rather, it was the ballet. When I say opera, I mean the building, although the building is called the Four Seasons centre. It gets more complicated, the ballet really was a play. Chekhov turned into ballet. Quite wonderful, really, especially my friend Michele in the pit. But there is one thing that keeps bugging me time after time in that beautiful opera. Why oh why is the costume and set design never ever at the same level as the dancers and the musicians? Or the singers, in case of actual opera. Maybe I am weird, being a visual artist, but I experience those aspects as intense as the music and the acting/singing/dancing. And once again today, they weren't nearly up there together.