Mr Highbrow goes to the opera

Back in April, I accidentally spotted an ad on Facebook. The thing is, I rarely see much on Facebook given all I do is pop in for a few seconds each morning, post a link to this blog then pop out again. But, for some reason the algorithm decided I’d be interested in an outdoor performance of Aida, on centre court in the town of Båstad. I hate to say it but the algorithm, so often wrong in my case, was 100% correct.

I discussed the possibility of going with Mirinda and she suggested it could be a Big Birthday Weekend. I could train down, stay a couple of nights and pre-celebrate turning 70. I didn’t mess around. I booked the opera, a hotel and the trains.

And tonight was the night. After a couple of long train rides, I checked in to the hotel, changed into my glad rags and headed into Båstad proper.

It was the perfect night for an outdoor performance. It was the conclusion of the Birgit Nilsson Festival, 2025 and I imagine the organisers were hoping for fine weather. And they got it. Obviously, it rained but not during the performance. The rain started just before I got back to the hotel, when a massive thunderstorm and lightning display drenched the world.

The performance itself was one of those, few things that just blows me away. There were four such productions in the past*. Now there are five.

But before all of that there was dinner.

Having checked out the restaurants online before coming, I decided an excellent pre-theatre feed could be had at Sand, a place right next door to the venue. I strolled in, asked for a table for one and was duly shown one. I was seated by 17:10. By 17:15, I had decided what I wanted and sat waiting in the not that busy restaurant.

By 17:25, I decided that if someone didn’t ask me what I wanted by 17:30, I was going to leave and find somewhere better. Then, right next to me, a couple were served ten minutes after they arrived. I grabbed my stick and left.

And what an excellent decision it was.

Next door to Sand is the fantastic Papas, where they not only treat you like a valued customer, they also chat to you and serve you food. Brilliant food. I’d like to publically thank Sand for giving me the opportunity to eat a wonderful meal. And Papas for providing it.

I was sat outside with a view of the sea, people frolicking, playing volleyball, splashing in the water. When the waitress, who was far too friendly to get a job at Sand, asked me where I’d like to sit, I said outside at her favourite table. I have to say, her choice of favourite table was perfect.

The meal was, as I said, delicious. It was a lovely way to shake off the long hours of train travel; the sea air blowing away the fact that on the train from Lund to Båstad I, and hundreds of others, had to stand because so many people were taking their pushbikes and wheelchairs to Göteborg.

But, having finished my dinner, it was time for the show to begin. I joined the very long but swiftly moving queue and, in short time, found my seat in the third row. The view was excellent, the audience appreciative and the evening, perfect.

Now, this was my first Aida so I didn’t know the story. I did this on purpose because I wanted to let it enthral me without expectations. I knew the music because I’ve played it at home on occasion. One would be hard pressed not to love the soaring score and the emotional duets. And so I let the singers take me away to ancient Egypt.

Okay, this might be controversial, I don’t know, but I had little sympathy for either Aida or her boyfriend, Radamès. Rather, my sympathies went out to the Pharaoh’s daughter, Amneris brilliantly performed by Sofija Petrovič. She was mesmerizing. I couldn’t help feeling her pain all the way through. I reckon she should have had Aida done away with early on. But then, of course, there’d be no story.

She was truly magnificent. A lot better than that photograph.

The rest of the cast were, obviously, fantastic. Even the Maestro, Pier Giorgio Morandi who took every opportunity to mime almost every male part.

There were also the dancers who came on at various times and performed a lot of what appeared to be freestyle movements in front of the stage. They were pretty special. And that’s from someone who is not usually a lover of dance.

The orchestra was magnificent, the giant choir behind them, big and booming. The whole show was just fantastic. I’ve run out of superlatives.

Now, when KSP came over the other day, she mentioned that maybe a group of us could go next year. The 2026 opera is Wagners The Flying Dutchman. I’m not sure that I could sit through a Wagner, let alone force Mirinda to.

And just before I go, I have to mention something I’ve never seen before (apart from Aida). Normally, you get surtitles (above) or subtitles (below) but this had the words (both in Swedish and English) on each side, beneath huge screens showing the action on stage for the poor people in the back rows. Do I assume that these are juxta titles?

* The four are: A Midsummer Nights Dream, directed by Emma Rice at the Globe, Herr Arnes penningar, at the Västanå Theatre, Pippi at the circus in Stockholm and One Man, Two Guvners at the Adelphi with James Cordon. All of them have stunned me in one way or another. Each one was absolutely fantastic.