The black out Mercedes CLS sent to glide me to the Royal Opera House set the tone for the night. I was ushered into the Director's box and his private retiring room behind it for champagne and morsels of caviar and blinis an hour and a half before curtain up on La Bayadere (that overblown romp of oriental ballet kitsch). |
|||||||||||||
I had entered a parallel universe of access and privilege and I liked it. In fact, I never wanted to go home again. My hosts, the Spanish fashion brand Hoss Intropia, were thanking editors for their support and tonight they were picking up a hefty tab. Our guide, from the corporate department, quick marched us, glasses in hand, backstage, with choice gossip punctuating the route: 'this was the smoking room of the Prince of Wales and his cronies, notice how the door is only eighteen inches wide, too narrow for any bustle wearing lady, but just wide enough for the ballerinas.' The back stage, more Casualty-chic than opera-style, came with colour coded lino floors and walls and a drab looking cafe peopled by bald monks in saffron robes and slender girls in glittery tiaras. Then up in the hospital-sized lifts, ('the back stage area is three times the size of the main auditorium'), to see the dancers warming up in a dance studio ('exactly the same size as the main stage downstairs'). And then all hell broke lose as the curtain was about the go up, so off we dashed through the labyrinthine tunnels to our ringside seats like the Flight of the Valkyrie in designer clobber. During the two intervals we were further doused in champagne and choice eats, but the best was yet to come. The colourful high-jinx on stage ended, our guide appeared genie-like at our box and flew us backstage again, this time to see the ballet stars Carlos Acosta and Tamara Rojo taking their curtain calls. It was pure 'All About Eve', with a sugaring of ''There's no business like show business' and a camp splash of 'Cabaret'. And then... I'm getting goosebumps even writing this - we were invited onto stage itself (the audience had by now gone) to meet the stars and to see the curtain raised so we could get a sense of what performing on that hallowed platform might feel like. Gianluca Longo, fashion director of ES magazine, spoke for us all: 'Darlings, my legs are giving way, I'm going to faint. It's just so exciting!'. Getting special privileges to the capitals premier music, dance and theatre venues needn't cost a fortune. Most venues run patron or friends schemes - it's a way for them to maximise revenue while showing off what they do to an interested crowd. Here are three of the best deals around: Best for opera: English National Opera Best for drama: The National Theatre |
|||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||
by
RN |
|||||||||||||