Lucy Worsley’s Nights at the Opera review – dressing up, singing and sex

This brilliant show flitted from Covent Garden to Venice to Vienna and Milan in pursuit of the history of opera

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Lucy Worsley Opera Television Show
Lucy Worsley ... loves a bit of dressing up. Photograph: Ian Salvage/BBC/Reef Television Limited/Ian Salvage

This brilliant show flitted from Covent Garden to Venice to Vienna and Milan in pursuit of the history of opera

I haven’t always had the best relationship with opera. My parents took me to a few – dress rehearsals – when I was a kid, probably with the aim of making me more refined and cultured. Clearly, it didn’t work, I hated it. Everything about it – the ponciness, the fact that it took so long for them to say anything (why couldn’t they speak instead of sing?), that I couldn’t understand what they were saying, that it went on for ever …

That was a long time ago, though. Now I’ve reached an age where I wouldn’t mind a bit more culture; I find more and more solace in classical music; I may be ready for opera. I bought myself a hedge-trimmer the other day (MacAllister op MHTP520, if you’re interested) and I’ve been enjoying that; I think the two – an interest in hedge-trimming and opera – come at around the same time in life.

Related: The Guardian view on opera: still powerful, still relevant | Editorial

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Source: Opera News from the UK Guardian