Opera Australia 2015 Season Launch
Went to the Opera Australia launch for their 2015 season this afternoon. Or this midday, rather. On the way there I managed to see Peter Capaldi and Jenna Coleman doing a bit with a TARDIS outside the Opera House, to promote the new series of Doctor Who. Quite exciting, it was. Took some paparazzi shots, though maintained a certain composure, hopefully.
At the launch, I was sat next to a somewhat infuriating woman who had come by herself, and was determined, from what I could gather, to talk to me. She did that thing, for instance, where a person will make comments to themselves about inane things, directed at people in general around her, in the hope that someone will overhear and respond, but I was having none of it, staring intently at my phone as I browsed Facebook. Another couple came and sat next to her eventually so the danger passed. But then as the lights went down she looped her handbag over my armrest, and moved the bottom of my peacoat out of the way to do so, and seemed disappointed when I pretended not to notice what she was doing.
It was interesting, too, to observe her from the side. When Lyndon Terracini (artistic director) was thanking the patrons, for instance, she moved her hands and head in such a way as if to say “but of course, and I appreciate your thanks”, as if she was being talked to directly and was required to non-verbally respond. (I overheard her saying she was a benefactor to the couple next to her, and also heard her talking about how she was looking forward to the new season, including Madama Butterfly. I was desperately trying not to listen, because I didn’t want the spoilers – I was sent a media release earlier in the day that I had avoided for just such a purpose.)
Still I resisted her attempts, but then when Emma Matthews gave a fantastic rendition of the Queen of the Night aria, she literally poked me in the arm and when I turned around said, “that was good, wasn’t it?”, and I smiled and nodded. A complete stranger was so desperate to talk that they poked me.
Hmph. Bah-humbug. I don’t mind being social, but when I choose not to, I especially don’t like being forced into it.
I’m going to die alone, aren’t I?
(This is when I find out, years later, that she was a lonely widow that just wanted five minutes conversation, and I was the surly boy who refused and made her day horrible. Meh.)