Spaces and genres

From Buxton to Ballarat, Manchester to Manaus, the London Coliseum to Central City, Colorado, the world is full of imposing opera houses built one hundred or more years ago that cause one to wonder just how much opera has gone on inside them. As architectural spaces, they have one and all catered for a mass public's aspirations towards plush velvet seating, regal insignia, the boudoir gilt, livery and privileged partial view (both in and out) found alike in private box and private coach, and the magical illusion of the proscenium stage. Theatrical magic is essentially that of a show, of the dazzle of a star, the virtuosity of a spectacle or the tension of a tragic or comic surprise; music adds magic of its own with the wondrous sounds proceeding from the star's mouth and, unseen or at least unobserved, from the orchestra pit. Some of the musical sounds and shows inhabiting such theatres have constituted opera proper; many of them have not. The dressing rooms, stages and musical cues have been prepared similarly for performing dogs and divas; from the tired businessman in the stalls to the gold prospector or Japanese tourist in the gallery, the men in the audience have ogled Melba, Mary Martin or a potential mistress, the women their men, their matinée idol or their neighbour's jewellery.