Day 5 (October 14): London, UK

A couple cultural tidbits:

1.- The Courtauld Institute, in Somerset House on Strand, has a lovely, lovely little gallery. It features 20 or so rooms over two floors, highlighted by an impressive collection of works by Impressionists, including some very recognisable masterpieces by Renoir ('La Loge'), Manet ('A Bar at Les Folies Bergères', almost picture-like in its attention to detail) and Van Gogh ('Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear'). Simply enjoyable.

2.- Around 5 PM, I scored a 30£ ticket (face value: 84£) at the Leicester Square tkts booth for the English National Opera (ENO)'s showing of Madam Butterfly. What I did not know was that the ENO's policy is to present English-language versions of operas.

Despite that, the singing was as near-perfect as it can get. The production, a reprise of the 2003 Anthony Minghella one, presented by the ENO and the Met, relied on roughly 20 performers clad in black ninja-styled body suits to bring in props, move some of the scenery (mostly sliding Japanese doors), do a bit of a modern dance to introduce the third act and animate a rather disturbing puppet that played Butterfly's child. Beyond the clear link with the ninja costumes, I am certain this was meant to evoke further something Japanese. I felt it intruded on the performance; it even felt 'cheesy': when laying out props for the main characters, it was never clear whether the ninja-clad extras were meant to play servants or to exist outside of the reality portrayed on the stage. It made me again, six months later, realize how amazing, and quite possibly revolutionary, Robert Lepage's production of The Ring Cycle was.

After the performance, when the players were taking their bows, a portion of the crowd ended up (after first applauding him) booing the singer who played Pinkerton. The singer, realising that response was aimed at the character, played along with it, shrugging his shoulders and sheepishly grinning. And the booing (of the character) was richly deserved, as Pinkerton is such a right fucken bastard. There are not that many fictional characters that inspire strong feelings in me; Pinkerton definitely does. He is an unredeemable arsehole.

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Envoyé sans fil par mon terminal mobile BlackBerry sur le réseau de Bell.