Few occasions speak of formality and prestige as much as an opera night. So after deciding what to wear, how to behave and what to expect at my first taste of the opera—the Grand Opera Performance which was held last week (I had been to an opera performance before in college. The evening ended up with a session of us ‘living it up’ at O’Connells way past midnight—not quite in line with Cabernet and Pavarotti)—this time I told myself I wouldn’t be late and that I’d be ready.

Of course, I was late! But I certainly felt readier in my black suit than Bruce Wayne would have felt at a millionaire’s gala. The hospitable marketing manager at the Sheraton had reminded me on more than one occasion that the event was a black-tie affair. Imagine my surprise then when a man in a brown coat and no tie seated himself at a table near mine. Luckily there was no one there in a baseball cap or there would have been more than one comment about Pakistanis at the opera flying around by the end of the night. But with a guest list that boasted of the high and mighty of most consulates and embassies in Karachi, the event was always going to be one to dress up for and brag home about.

The evening started off with hors d’oeuvres and virgin aperitifs followed by a three-course meal featuring a main course of epinards et champignon en robe de diva (chicken breasts stuffed with mushrooms and asparagus). The running joke of the evening at our table was that most of the crowd had gathered for the food as a few of the patrons seemed to be enjoying their meal enough to continue dining through the performance.

Now, as I don’t know enough about opera I was fortunate to have the company of Anwer Mooraj (nothing like a seasoned professional) at the table who would punctuate the performances with a whisper in my ear about what was unfolding before us. I learned that the opera wasn’t going to be one that followed a story or be enacted like a play. While the program boasted arias by great composers such as Verdi, Wagner and Mozart, the pieces being performed were really quite common fare in the world of opera. They included Torna De Surriento (Canzone Di Napoli by Di Curtis) and O Sole Mio (Canzone Di Napoli by Capurro) which I am led to believe are Neopolitan folks song.

Perhaps the decision to do so was deliberate for in Pakistan not many might have developed a taste for the opera. Instead of throwing at them something they wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate, why not entertain them with something that they’d possibly have heard before and be able to associate it with an Opera?

Earlier, I met with Stefaan Sanchez, the producer and director of the European Chamber Opera (Echo), and spoke to him along similar lines, about how audiences here were familiar with eastern classical music, but not its western counterpart; did he feel that they would be able to properly applaud an opera performance? He answered by telling me how Echo had performed in a number of places in the Far East and Asia where opera wasn’t part of the local culture. “There is a general perception that opera is a specialist kind of entertainment, but at the end of the day it is really just entertainment,” he said.

Echo had received a standing ovation from audiences in Bangalore and Bangkok where they had performed earlier and now, he wanted to prove that Karachi too could appreciate the art if given a chance.

And Karachi certainly did judging by the applause the performers received—sometimes in the middle of an aria; on more than one occasion the audience had a hard time figuring out whether the aria had ended or there was a pause in the performance. When it happened during one of Stefaan’s performances he handled it like a true professional — first turning around to exclaim, “They did that in Bangalore…probably wanting me to get off the stage” before jumping right back in as if nothing had happened!

The amount of vocal prowess that all six of the performers, possessed was remarkable. I would have assumed that it takes a lot to impress a crowd when you’re singing in a language they don’t understand, but the performers on stage didn’t seem like they were breaking a sweat. They didn’t break glass either, but it made me wonder how much more vocal ability tenors such as Luciano Pavarotti must have — a search on YouTube didn’t quite do their reputation any justice I felt. And while I remember hearing that operas are usually conducted with the help of a full orchestra, the pianist did stand out and seemed to be holding his own quite well in a performance devoted to singing ability.

Stefaan encouraged the audience to join in at the end, and while that really was asking too much when no one knows the words, the performance, which lasted close to two hours (including a 20-minute interval) ended with the audience rising to applaud the actors. On being asked how I found the performance and whether I liked it, trying not to sound like a person who loves a movie simply by watching a trailer (although it’s been known to happen) I replied by saying I rather enjoyed the experience.

After all, who wouldn’t? A black-tie affair, five-course meal with some fine company and a performance of western classical music, the closest of which you get to hear here are adaptations in movie soundtracks? You’re sure to have an attendee in me each time.