Seventeen and a Wainwright Opera.

Low lows, and high highs.

Last weekend I was exhausted.  It took an incredible amount of stamina to finish chapter seventeen, and after it things seemed to collapse. Like a tour rider on a tough ascent, I’d put in a superhuman effort to get to the finish and now it was time to go onto the huge heart of the novel, chapter eighteen, where my main character, Luke gets swept up in something that alters the course of his life  -and music – forever and which will ultimately, try to destroy him. I couldn’t start it, though. I simply didn’t have the energy to rev up the writing machine again.

In the middle of this stupid wipe-out, I got an unexpected shot in the arm –  I went to see Rufus Wainwright’s opera, Prima Donna. The plot is roughly as follows: ageing opera singer, Madame Saint Laurent has lost the power to sing, and is goes on an emotional (musical) journey back through her life to recall why she can no longer hit the high notes – God, the similarities between this and Luke Joseph’s life struck me hard, several times during the performance. It’s a bit freaky.

A good razor for a pretty boy.

Prima Donna was quite an experience: exquisite melodies, awesome singing, fabulous stage sets and I was – almost – moved to tears at the end of the first act when Philippe, Andre and Marie lament Madame’s sad appearance and urge her to rest. By the time it ended – with plenty of fireworks – I was bursting with energy. The place was buzzing. Dear Rufus appeared on stage at the end (unfortunately I missed his grand arrival at the theatre) to take his applause with the singers. Please though Rufus, ditch the beard –  you don’t need facial hair to be taken seriously.

Prima Donna rocks!

It’s also been a pretty good week for our boys in the tour. Well for Bradley Wiggins, at least! I felt rather sorry for poor Mark Cavendish, having his points mercilessly taken away like that. He looked as if he was going to burst into tears.

Tour Winner?

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