I only had a few hours before one of my preplanned events, so I decided to go on a quick tour of the Opera House. Our guide was an amusing character, and she made several both strange and witty comments throughout our walk. We clambored up the steps from the inside and listened as she showed us several of the different halls. There are somewhere around eight different halls (don't quote me on the exact number), and they range in size pretty considerably. That night there was both a huge orchestral piece going on, where a kids orchestra was playing music while cartoons showed on a big screen in the back - think Tom and Jerry or LooneyTunes - and opening night for a French opera called The Tales of Hoffman. We were in the room with Tales of Hoffman while they were doing some final arrangements, which is always fun for me, because I love to see what goes on behind the scenes. Unfortunately, we couldn't take pictures.
At this point, we went outside briefly to look at the structure itself, which is not the pure white, smooth sail that you get in pictures. There are crafted ceramic tiles with some groves and textures. Little history lesson - the guy who designed the Opera House was out of Europe, and hadn't ever been to Australia. He created the "sails" of the building by considering different cutouts of a sphere. In fact, in front of the building is a little podium with a half sphere and cutouts to show how the design was developed.
Initially, the Opera House was going to be built somewhere else, and there is an interesting story I won't go into that finally brought it to its final location. As a quick side note, I always think of it sitting out looking on the ocean. Maybe you knew better. For those of you who didn't, it actually sits on one of the "peninsulas" on a system of fjords, bays, and harbors that cut in from the ocean quite a ways. The amount of these waterways make the ferry system a great option for getting around.
Back to the Opera House. The design had come about a time when the architect had formed a good relationship with the mayor, but upon installation of a new mayor, they had a huge falling out. Ultimately, the designer left, and would have nothing to do with it anymore. The shells had been built, but the inside was left undone. Fortunately, some Australian architects came in and figured out something to do, which was very different than the first plan. The most notable difference is that the windows are not straight up and down, but actually stick out so they are angled compared to the shells. The purpose was to avoid night time reflections inside the building. Think of it this way - when you go to a party that is indoors and has windows, as light builds inside, and fades outside, the windows become like mirrors, reflecting all of what is going on inside, and obscuring the view of the outside. Sitting on one of the most beautiful harbors in the world, that would be a shame if it happened at the Opera House. By angling the windows, the light is deflected instead of reflected, so you can still get the marvelous harbor views in the evening.
We ventured back in, and went through the large hall, with wood paneled walls. It was very different than I expected, though I can't put my finger on exactly what I thought I would find. I also caught a glimpse of these transparent rings above the stage. Originally expecting that they were just for effect, I asked what the significance was, only to learn that they are very practical. The rings sit above the orchestra, and serve to reflect the sound back down on the instruments so the musicians can hear what they are playing better - kind of like monitors.
After leaving the tour, I realized I still had a good two hours before my evening plans, so I talked through my options with some ferry workers, and hopped on a boat to Manly Beach. I enjoyed quieter area that was only a 30 minute or so ferry ride away. With only a few minutes there, I made sure to shed my shoes and walk into the water. I think I lost feeling in my feet for about ten minutes.
I jumped on the boat again to return to Circular Quay, ready to grab a bite to eat before my evening event. I found a little place right on the quay where I could grab something. I had Chicken Involtini (see Food for Thought), and enjoyed a quick break from all the walking with the sea breeze blowing and the Harbour Bridge and Opera House as my backdrop.
Swallowing my last piece of buttered bread which I used to sop up the remaining sauce on my plate (I know - it's bad etiquette to completely clean off your plate, but at least I didn't lick it; Mom would be proud), I quickened my pace to head back to the Opera House - my evening event was to take in the opening night of Tales of Hoffman, which I mentioned earlier. It would be my first taste of true opera. That it was opening night was a pleasant coincidence.
Tales of Hoffman was a blend of German, French, and English (and as an opera, obviously showed Italian influence). In short, it was very Australian - a blend of cultures. I probably enjoyed the first 30 minutes more than the rest of the show, but it was creative nonetheless. It basically covers the story of a guy who likes a singer, but it never works out. So one night in a bar he is lamenting it, and compares his relationship with her to three different stories of three different women. The opera is the playing out of those three stories, and the ultimate show they the woman he loves is a blend of all three of them. The opening song in the bar, "Kliensach" or something like that, was pretty enjoyable, and showed the German influence. It was really witty, so I found myself laughing quite a bit.
The only other thing I would point out in the opera itself was that the first story he told had the woman as a "living doll" that had been designed by a crazy inventor. The thing that made it so funny was that she went into a large "tube" where she was electrified to give her life. What made it funny was that the tube had been painted to resemble a pint of beer. The guy had been given a pair of glasses, and while he was wearing them, he couldn't see that the woman was really a doll, but believed she was a regular person. If that isn't an allusion to "beer goggles," I don't know what is....
After the show, I walked out, satisfied that I had made good use of my evening.
I probably should have left well enough alone.
My host in Sydney gave me a call and let me know people were hanging around King's Cross, another district in Sydney. My dad had told me that he was there when he was on R&R in the Army at one point, so I thought it would be interesting to check out.
I was amazed by the huge Coca-Cola sign illuminating the night sky, and since I had been seeing it from a couple miles away, it served as my landmark.
Okay, so the King's Cross section of Sydney has changed a bit since my dad was there. Now, it's known for partying. Well, actually, it's known for prostitutes - but I didn't know that at the time. I learned that when some scantily clad women tried to proposition me. I'm a little naive as a person, so I was thoroughly confused about what was going on.
Scared you, didn't I? No, I wasn't that confused. I was confused why these women would dress like that and then be so forward to get my attention, and I figured out pretty quickly that it wasn't my attention they were after. So, I picked up my pace and walked past bar after bar and club after club, with house music thumping in the background.
To give you a quick background on me and bars - we don't particularly get along. Notwithstanding the fact that I can never hear anyone when I go into them, I get angry and depressed whenever I go. I generally find men exploiting women, or women exploiting themselves to get the wrong kind of attention from disinterested men. Neither scenario is appealing. So, King's Cross was a bit of a disappointment. And I never found my host.
I trekked back to the apartment, and decided to get some good rest. I had a little more to do in Sydney the next day, and I didn't want to miss out for lack of sleep.
