A DAY AT THE OPERA

When the AIDS epidemic was ravaging the gay community the world lost a great deal of talent. There were writers and musicians and actors and poets and so much creative talent lost during those awfully sad years. The straight community certainly suffered as well, but the gay artists were dying by the dozens. One of those tremendously talented young people was my friend Paul.

I knew him as a kid, and followed his career all through his very abbreviated life. Paul was a composer and a performer, writing and recording beautiful music until he died...and he died by inches, over a long long time.

Paul and I discussed Opera on one occasion, and as I confessed my general ignorance about it,  he spoke about how he approached such high minded and challenging levels of music. Paul told me that he loved the idea of entering a whole different world...of sound and sight and talent. He advised me to start anywhere and just sit back and wait for even one singular moment when the music gave me goose bumps and maybe even brought a tear to my eye. Paul also said that he loved to go to the matinees...when you don't have to worry about how late it is...or how dark it is...or how you have to get up early the next day.

We saw TOSCA yesterday, at the Sunday matinee, and as I've done for many years now, I waited for that glorious moment when the hair on my arms stands up, and my eyes begin to water...and once again I was swept away. It always happens, and I'm always so deeply grateful to Paul when it does.

I told my young niece and nephew to watch "Moonstruck" with Cher...and to pay attention to the clips from "La Boheme"...it's a start, and I think it just might be a catalyst to guide them into the opera house. Trying to plunge head-first into the majestic world of grand opera is pretty intimidating, but exposing yourself to the possibility of those moments that almost take your breath away can add a glorious and memorable experience to an ordinary Sunday afternoon. Thanks Paul.